just frustrated with people

Ain't none of y'all "cared" about Cyborg until now

I’m supposed to believe that you all suddenly care about his design when you didn’t even want him in the movie? Miss me with the bullshit!

Who’s to say that Cyborg won’t get an updated look? It’s been rumored that The Flash is getting another suit so maybe Cyborg will get something else as well.

Anyway, it’s just frustrating that his look is what people are obsessing over. We should be more concerned with getting a “booyah”, which I’m confident he’s gonna do.

sometimes i think about letting my queue just run out and then disappearing. like starting a new blog without telling anyone.

i’m kind of tired of having so many silent followers. i’d rather have a small following of people who actually interact with me and reblog things from me and have an interest in the things i upload. whether its writing or amigurumi or whatever.

i’m probably being melodramatic, but it’d be nice to just have people listen, and respond. there’s nothing more frustrating than feeling like you’re shouting into a void. 

maybe it’s more on me. i don’t keep up with latest trends. i don’t care about mass effect, or ffxv, or tv shows or things like that. i like the stuff i like, and i stick to it. i’m sure there are small blogs getting an huge influx of followers because they’re uploading mass effect fics, or meta, but i’m not like that. i like what i like, and i’m kind of dedicated to it.

it just sort of sucks. 

idk. i’m musing, and tired, and feeling emotionally drained, i guess. i’m sure to anyone else i sound like a whiny bitch. whatever.

anonymous asked:

I'm sick of the fans who are already making Harry's solo career about a ship. Haylors are saying his announcement yesterday was 13 days before his single drops so that's a haylor reference (her favourite number is 13). Haylors/Hendalls and I'm sure larries too (I don't pay attention to them) are already saying his album/songs are about their OTP. Can't they just let harry have this for himself??? He's worked so hard for it to be reduced to merely that!!

Jesus Christ, honestly… what does he have to do to get himself ONE THING that’s not tied to ships and his dating life? That’s what bothers me so much: anything he does is reduced to this stupid little thing and it’s so frustrating! Why can’t people just let him have his music and do what he wants to do without it meaning anything else? Grrr

anonymous asked:

I'm really glad I found your blog and all the other reptile blogs you interact with! You all have helped me improve in keeping my first ball python and I still have some room for improvement and I'm working towards it with all the advice you guys give! Thanks for being awesome even though sometimes the reptile community can be... Frustrating and stressful, but just know you do help people out there who are more than willing to learn c:

awww thank you so much for saying so!! i really appreciate these asks. it helps me to keep chugging on :)

I’m so like…amused and frustrated by people who are just SO indignant about the protests happening today. 

Like, listen up ya Cheetos, you spend all day monday singing praises about how great MLK was. 

You don’t get to pitch a fit on Friday when people do the same shit he did. 

Oh but they are blocking roads! They are shouting and making people feel uncomfortable and it is inconvenient!  Yes, you french fry. What do you think MLK did? 

Here’s to the performers who have to reuse the same silks every season due to budget cuts. Here’s to the performers who wear either show blacks or cheap homemade costumes every season. Here’s to the performers who have to kill themselves dragging around an old floor that is devastatingly heavy because it’s been painted over so many times due to budget cuts. Here’s to the performers who either don’t have staff or only have staff for half a season before they give up.

Know your guard privilege.

Flood My Mornings: Helluva Beast

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.


August, 1950

“Alright, ALRIGHT,” I said in mock exasperation to the blooms as I pulled out a particularly intransigent nest of weeds, “you’ll be growing free and easy soon enough.” 

I’d gotten home from work an hour or two early, today, and was taking advantage of the opportunity to tend the front flower beds. Decorative flowers always took a backseat to the herbs in the back garden, if I were being perfectly honest; however, summer had finally crisped and weed-choked the impatiens to the point at which even I could ignore them no longer. “Hold your bloody horses,” I lectured the flowers again as I nestled fresh soil around the area. 

Maaaa-ma,” came a rather scornful giggle to my right. 

“Ha, you’re one to talk, missy,” I said, sitting back on my haunches to put gloved hands on my hips in mock indignation. “You talk to inanimate objects all the time. Far more than Mama, I’ll wager.” 

She had been “helping” me with the gardening; that is to say, getting herself as filthy as possible. She covered her mouth to suppress her giggles, gurgled a string of happy syllables, and let herself topple heedlessly into my arms. I caught her, scooped her against my chest, and showered her with kisses, both of us smelling of sweat and soil. “My goodness, Bree, any more dirt on you and I’ll be able to plant you!” 

“Nothing wrong with a little dirt,” said Penelope brightly from the front stoop, where she sat reading a romance novel while she supervised Bree. “It’s good for kids to have some grit about them.”

“Git!” proclaimed Brianna enthusiastically. 

“No, no, lovey,” I laughed. “That’s not a very nice word. It’s g-rrrrr-it.” 

“GIT!” she agreed, extricating herself and plopping contentedly back down in the flower bed. 

“Oh, well,” Penelope said fondly, “I suppose there are worse insults to pick up.” 

“She’ll have no lack of them, with two languages and three nationalities to pull from,” I agreed.

Just before 6:00, the sound of an approaching vehicle made all three of us look up. I gave an overly-dramatic gasp for Brianna’s benefit. “I wonder who that could be!”

She froze mid-task (stuffing the pockets of her romper full-to-bursting with soil), made a comically round “O” with her mouth, eyebrows raised as high as they could go, and whispered,“S’iz-Da?”

At my grin and nod, she leapt to her feet and tore headlong toward Hank’s yellow pickup truck that was just pulling into the driveway.

“Ohhhh no you don’t, little smudge!” I laughed, catching her around the middle and sweeping her up off the ground. She cackled with the joy of the sudden movement, then squealed “Da!” at the driver’s side door that had just opened.

“No, that’s not Da, baby, that’s Mr. Hank!” But as I looked up, I saw that she was, in fact, correct. James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser was stepping down—cool as you bloody well please—from the driver’s seat.

“Jamie!” I said, slowly and shrilly. “Did you—DRIVE?”

“Oh, aye,” he said with an attempt at casualness that made me snort with joy. I could see the corner of his mouth twitching with a proud smile as he plucked Brianna from my arms. “Hank’s been showing me the way of it. Just a few minutes each day at Fernacre, ken?”

“Took him a day or two to really get the hang of it,” said a grinning Hank, who had exited from the passenger’s side and come around, looking almost as proud as Jamie. “Those foreign models he learned on across the pond must be helluva different beast—Jamie here barely could tell the pedals from the wheel, at first!” 

I exchanged a furtive grin with Jamie. A different beast indeed: a horse, to be specific.

“But he picked it up fast,” Hank went on, tipping his cap to Penelope, who had come closer to join in the congratulations, “and today I threw him the keys and said, ‘take us home, bud!’ Didn’t crash or run a stop-sign even the once!”

“After the way you were green all the way to Cape Cod,” Penelope said. “I’d have thought you’d never set foot in a car again!”

“See, that’s the strange thing about it,” Jamie said, bouncing Bree in his arms as she tugged on his ears, “I dinna seem to get queasy when I’m the one doing the driving.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” I said, crossing my arms. “Think the same might apply to boats as well?” I teased. “Captain Fraser?” 

“It certainly might,” he said, leaning down to smile at me with one eyebrow raised, “but I’ll go to my death before I test the theory voluntarily.” He bent and kissed me.

“I am truly very impressed, Jamie,” I said.

“Been reading up on it—wanted to surprise ye. I’ll still have to study up to pass the written test, Hank says, but—” 

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” 

He smiled. “Thank you, Sassenach,” he said, in that soft way that indicated such depth of feeling I wanted to cry from happiness.   

A few minutes later as Hank got back in the truck (“See you tomorrow, bud!”) and pulled out of the driveway, Penelope went inside to get Brianna cleaned up, and Jamie followed me to the side yard ostensibly to assist with filling up the watering cans. Before I could bend to turn on the spigot, though, he had placed a firm hand on my hip and pressed me against the rough brick of the house, bending back my head and kissing me so intensely that I dropped the can. 

Pulling back, a long time later, panting rather heavily, he said huskily, “You are so very beautiful, mo nighean donn.”

“Dirt and all?”

He smiled and touched my cheek. “You forget…you were positively filthy the first time I laid eyes on ye, and it didna discourage me then. In fact, if we werena so close quartered wi’ neighbors,” he whispered, bending to nip the tender skin of my neck, “I should like to have you right here in the grass.”

Despite the heat of the day, I shivered. “You would, eh?” I said, running my hands along the broad expanse of his back. He smelled rather like he had at our first encounter—of sweat and horses—and it wasn’t dampening my arousal, either. 

“Aye…None so fragrant as heather, grass,” he said, softly, working his way down toward my breasts, “but God,” he breathed, “to see you naked in the sunlight all surrounded by the green…”

He straightened and kissed me thoroughly, one hand sliding down to squeeze my arse, making a sound deep in his throat that raised goosebumps up and down my body.

“Well, then,” I said raggedly, “Anytime you want to take me camping…” I grinned. “You can drive us to a lovely patch of grass….and I’ll be all yours.” 


to be continued

Chill

Everyone always gets so defensive about Jack’s relationship with Kent, and everyone needs to chill. Because you know what? They were teenagers when the draft happened and they had their fall out. And, you know who’s not emotionally nor psychologically mature? Teenage boys, especially teenage boys that are in a highly competitive atmosphere and who have their own emotional/mental stresses and problems. Kent may not have been justified in showing up at that Haus party, just as Jack was not justified in outing Kent to Bitty without his permission. They both have their own problems. But, these things don’t make either of them terrible people. The tragic reality is, they were both too young to be dealing with the stress of the situation they were in, and thankfully Jack survived and Kent was at least partially able to  move on from it. So, please remember that this “major fall out” and “toxic relationship” some people focus on, was between two teenage boys who were trying to do their best with the limited resources and support they had in an extremely stressful environment.

Person: That thing you’re stressing over is irrational. Just let it go! Don’t let unimportant things bother you! Stop dwelling on things that don’t matter!
Me: You seem to be under the impression that I’m doing this voluntarily.

why do people think that asexuals and aromantics cant have fucking soulmates? like who the hell gave you that impression? a soulmate doesnt have to be someone you love romantically, or someone you’re sexually active with. my best friends are my soulmates. literally, anyone could be your soulmate. the restrictions of sexual and romantic love do not apply

And another thing! How many times were we told this season was more connected than any other? We are missing the last third of a story. Of course shit doesn’t make sense just yet. I get simply pointing out frustrations and inconsistencies, but people are saying this story is bad writing when we are missing ONE THIRD. And the last third of a story is usually when things come together. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll eat my hat if it really is a garbled mess of a story, but it amazes me how easily people fling themselves into perpetual despair over an incomplete story

TalesFromYourServer: It can only get better from here right? Holy wow this rant is almost as long as my night.

Alright folks, I just had to vent to some people who will understand my frustration. This is my first post and I am still red in the face so please forgive my possibly incoherent rambling. Also for the formatting, I’m currently sitting in a booth furiously typing this.

I work for a chain restaurant in a Midwestern city. These past two weeks have been an absolute nightmare, I’ve had to deal with more assholes than a port-o-potty at a taco Bell construction site. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve had nothing but jerks who complain about everything like “you didn’t tell me the burger would come with this weird sauce on it.” “Ma'am, it states it right there in the menu.” “Well I thought it meant ketchup.” Or “how could you bring my daughter a regular cherry Pepsi? She’s diabetic, she needs a diet.” Effff my life.

Anyways, that brings us to tonight. Two lovely ladies walk in and I go to greet them

Me: “hello, how a-”

B word 1: ”water. Ice. Lemon.” “Ok, and for y-”

B word 2: “water. Lemon. Absolutely no ice.”

I come back with their drinks and ask if they’re ready. They say no. I walk into the kitchen. 30 seconds later, expo tells me “table 42 pressed your call server button.” I go check on them,

Me: “you guys all set?”

B2: “Scoff no, it’s only been like one minute. I had a question.”

I answer her question, to which she replies with a disgusted face, “wow, that’s all you got? K, whatever.”

I give them a few more minutes to look over things and they order burgers, cooked well done.

When their food comes, B2 asks for a side of BBQ. Ok easy enough. I come back to her burger cut in half, and she begins to freak out at how raw her burger is. I ask if she wants an upcook, she says no because “I’ve already waited long enough.” B1 asks for a side of BBQ. Ok, wish I could have just grabbed them both at the same time. I come back and B2 throws her burger across the table and says her food is fucking disgusting and can’t eat it. At this point I’m annoyed and just look at her “well, what do you want me to do if you don’t want me to fix it?” I end up taking it back into the kitchen, and I kid you not, there’s not a single trace of pink anywhere in her burger. You could play hockey with it. So I just put it in the hot window for a minute to warm it up and bring the same burger out. She then proceeds to scarf down the whole thing. The manager comped her meal. After I told her, she said “yeah, like you should have.” At this point I just want them out so I drop off the check but ask if they want dessert or anything else. “Well since we’re not paying for the food, yeah we want dessert.” After their dessert I drop off the check again and B1 throws her military ID at me and says “I expect a discount for that too.” They pay and leave. Left me a wonderful note saying:

“Was a bitch (probably)

Talked too much (which I didn't​)

Didn’t ask about dessert (which I did)

Is an idiot (her der)

Talked about us (which they couldn’t have possibly heard because I was in the back office with my manager)

Stiffed.

Then immediately after that, I had a table which, after they had already eaten and paid, called another store in town to complain that I hadn’t given them a Monday night special price (that has been discontinued for months). Manager comes up to me and says "I just got off the phone with another manager and she told me we had guests in our dining room complaining about you?” She goes to talk to them and explain that the special is discontinued, which is exactly what I told them.

Stiffed.

Had a table transferred to me so the non-closer could go home. “Well you didn’t really do anything for us.”

Stiffed.

Then, our regulars who come in and “forget” every single week that we close at 11. I was prepared and strategically dropped off their check at 11:01 so they couldn’t order anything else like they always try to do. “Wait hold on, I wanted another beer. You didn’t even tell us about last call!”

"Sir, when you ordered that beer, it WAS last call.”

“Well we wanted more food.”

“Well I’m sorry about that, but we’re closed now.”

Stiffed.

Fucking A. Are people getting worse or am I?

5 days til vacation… 5 days til vacation…

Rant over.

By: babesuruncle

anonymous asked:

Tbh I find it weird that people /still/ put so much pressure on dan to talk about his sexuality like are they all people who've never struggled with that aspect of themselves????? It's rly personal and can be so specific and tough to put into words, and dan has repeatedly made it clear that he's not straight but also not a fan of labels........... like he literally did it in this isg w the free interpretation thing,,,,,,, so like?????????? I'm tired

I feel you so hard, anon. I’m literally exhausted FOR him. I knew this was coming as well, like, the whole idea of the phandom having a tizzy in the build up to this video, assuming it’s going to be something like him coming out, and I knew when it invariably didn’t happen, they would throw a fit. 

I’m not saying the eventual “big” video he’s making isn’t going to be something along those lines, but like??? It’s a problem when everyone WILLS that video into exsistence, because sexuality is such a hard thing to come to terms with, and some people never want to talk about it. 

What even is this idea that people have to come out at all? I’m all for labels or no labels, but why don’t we focus on normalizing sexuality rather than glorifying huge coming out moments

I’m seeing a lot of angry posts on my dash right now, and I just want to say, just in case this applies to any of my followers:

If you voted third party, or were eligible but didn’t vote, this wasn’t your fault.

Like, they gutted the Voting Rights Act. We ran an unpopular candidate and underestimated her opponent. We have this absurd electoral college system that means you can win the popular vote but still lose. And some small bit of blame probably also goes to the over 50 million people who voted for Trump. There’s a whole complex system of stuff that lost the election. Jill Stein or whoever is nothing compared to that.

“Third party voters” is the excuse Democrats use literally every time they lose an election because blaming the Left is easier than thinking about the real problems we’re facing.

“Efficiently” Ambush. “Completed” Succesfully.
Quinque: ARATA JOKER

Even though I’m starting to like Rebecca, I still get that uncomfortable feeling every time Robert and Rebecca share a scene together. I mean, I trust Robert and I really want him to have a good friend, but ugh, somehow I just can’t get rid of that annoying feeling when I see them together. 

(DON’T REBLOG THIS) ya ya a little salty post but i just love how i can’t jokingly say dan is loud and annoying without someone jumpin on my ass but people can turn these projects that dan spent so much time on into a meme so much so that dan feels like it didn’t even matter and that we don’t care about it haha it’s ok tho

  • People: i hate how people will headcanon characters as trans when there's no proof in the show :/
  • Marco: *Openly wishes to be a girl. Heavily hinted at expieriencing gender dypshoria. A major antagonist believes them to be a girl and uses she/her pronouns for them. Has been referred to as a Princess in the show. Referred to a group of girls as 'my fellow wayward sisters'.*
  • People: idk it seems like you're headcanoning him based off stereotypes :/