my stuff that is mine and belongs to me

Nah but let me share this...
  • I went to a Dia De Los Muertos concert/event here in the bay. They had crafts and stuff for kids (and adults - my sugar skull I drew on the tortilla belongs in the MoMA but ok), they had Mexican hot chocolate (where the fuck they been hiding that shit all my life??) and pan de muerto. They had altars and everything. But once the show started, they had the forgettable damn-near all-white symphony open the event up (nobody was tryin to hear that shit. Was probably the venue sayin' they could only have the event there if they let the house artists perform, too). And then they had an the first all-female mariachi band come out.
  • Girl....
  • Let me tell you...
  • A. These ladies got pipes. B. The vocal range was unreal. C. I don't know how she had the diaphragm to hold her notes as long as she was. But also, the dude next to me was crying during certain songs. Skull face paint runnin n shit. I look two rows up, and the latinx aunties and grandmas are up there crying and shit, too. After their songs, they have the intermission.
  • Then they bring out this band from LA (both these groups won Grammies, mind you) and people start losing their shit. And when I say losing their shit, I mean recording shit on phones when phones weren't allowed, standing up in the middle of the rows and dancing and singing by themselves because they were feeling it so much, cryin, throwing hands up, all of that. They were screaming for an encore when they were done and got the band to do a curtain call.
  • Look.
  • Moral of the story.
  • That shit was not meant for me. And that was the beauty of it. As a black, American, non-latinx man, that shit was not my culture and it wasn't for me. But I was welcomed in to observe and it was absolutely gorgeous to see how happy and deeply people felt during those moments. Seeing how much they connected to that part of their culture to the point where they were in tears over it was amazing. And it was even more amazing that it wasn't for me. In my head, I kept thinking how white people are always sayin "culture is meant to be shared" and how they don't understand what that shit is supposed to mean. Culture is meant to be shared in a manner of observance, if you're an outsider. Culture being shared doesn't mean "I saw this, this is my culture now too." There's beauty in seeing other people enjoy their culture, being welcomed in to participate, but still recognizing that that's their shit and not your shit.
  • The end.

Ok first ten pages of this comic. I didn’t plan on it getting this long, but I tend to be too….detailed? ^^;; 

Anyways, watching all the cute stuff Nyu and Junky do with lil’ Hamster G made me want to make something with my G!Sans. ^_^ Sorry its crappy. Hopefully I can get started on the rest of it soon! (I’m hoping if I upload what I got done, I’ll be motivated to finish this! XD)

Uh oh! Little Hammie G is getting into the cigarettes!! You know what that means! ;)

Hamster G belongs to @nyublackneko and @junkpilestuff
Gaster!Sans is Borurou’s but this version is mine ^^

We don’t all belong with All Of Us. I often swim alone.

Blanket statements about how All Of Us feel or think or do dinna cut it for me. Often I’m a lone fish, or one that swims with a smaller school.

I’m not disappointed with Cait and/or Sam.

William Shatner’s thoughts and behaviour don’t affect mine.

Non-Shipper/Truthers (antis) have no influence on my blogging choices.

I love Outlander books, TV show, actors, and characters, with the obvious exception of Too Much of Frank.

Please don’t lump me in with people that feel negatively toward those things.

I speak for myself.

Thank ye kindly.

37/100 days of productivity 

I’m pretty sure that this armchair belongs to me at this point. It’s MINE. I have one fav Starbucks close to the local library. I always come here to drink coffee and read new books. Sometimes I write in my journal & study here as well. These visits are the highlight of my week. • stuff done: health check up (bc I had to do one for my new job), one chapter of my Polish textbook, science prep tests

The City of Everything

My dreams were finally recognized tonight
Seeing the sky lit up in a million lights
I thank the heavens for this chance

The fact that I can look at the signs
Realizing someday it could be mine
Makes me never want to go back

Go back to the life I once had
Where the thrill of wanderlust made me mad
This is where I belong

The city of a million stars
The city that made the people who they are

The city of everything


Tagged by @amehanaaa to do this aesthetic thing. Conveniently, I have a ton of fandom stuff saved on my phone lmao

Also these are all saved from various talented artists on tumblr THESE DO NOT BELONG TO ME. Except the bento box. That’s mine hehehe

Tagging @roses-and-asters @that-one-ninja-fan @thefourteenthdarkone @bloodredruby @watchmist1412 @strivia @pineappland and anyone else who wants to do this.

My first tattoo was about reclaiming my body. About moving on from a bad relationship. About reminding myself that what happened to me wasn’t my fault.

This one?

This one is because my body is mine again. Wonderfully so. There’s a freedom in thinking: no one can stop me from doing this. No one can change this but me. No one can have this but me.

No one can have my skin but me.

I wrote what I know about my queerness on that skin that night.

I’m not a girl. I’m not a boy.

I have a fierce love of space. Galaxies and black holes and blooming nebulae. I like to think, as Carl Sagan said, that we are made of star stuff. That the core of my body once belonged out there, somewhere, and that I have the last dregs of a struggling star clustered up in my cells.

That’s what I am.

—  How I’m Transitioning Without Transitioning | Sam Schooler for the Huffington Post
Reaction: When you appear on a kiss-cam with another guy


“wow that game was awful, let’s never go there again” *rolls eyes*

Junhoe would immediately pull you out of the camera view out of instinct. Afterwards he’d be super embarrassed and annoyed, telling you how awful the game was and never go there again.


“back off, this girl is mine”

Bobby would push you to the side so the guy is getting out of the camera view but you and him instead and then kiss you, basically.


with his eyes: “don’t you dare or i will ()/§”&)!=(§;_:’*#+ you”

Hanbin would scare the guy away with his gaze. He’d never let anyone even touch you just because of some stupid cam, neither he’d kiss you in public like that because he knows stuff like that belongs private (actually he just couldn’t control himself ha).


thinks: “my girl would never kiss a boy like you because she only loves me sorry (not)”

Yoyo would trust you not to kiss that guy. He wouldn’t do anything then waiting and expecting the reaction he is hoping for.

thank you for being our fan, i hope you like it ♥

- moyo

Retrosaurs: A Guide

This is inspired by another suggestion from @titleknown.  I’ve posted a couple things about my retrosaurs before, of course, but this one is different for a few reasons: 1. it’s more detailed, 2. it’s open source with ONE condition, namely that the designs used in this guide belong to me.  That is to say, all the written concepts here are open for anyone to use in any story they see fit, but all the monster designs in the images belong to me alone - especially the colored ones, since those guys are specific characters of mine.

All of the information here is canon for my novel-in-progress The Atomic Time of Monsters, but is also written vaguely enough so it could be used in other stories.  Once again, I must reiterate that the specific monster designs shown in these illustrations are mine - but I’m sharing the written stuff with anyone who wants it.

So if you ever wanted to use my retrosaurs in a story, or just know more about them, well, this is your guide.  More after the cut!

Keep reading


Revisiting one of my more distinct concepts has gave me a myriad of ideas behind it. After all It’s too appealingly simple and too malleable of a design to not invest upon. Story-wise they belong on a more science-fiction scenario of mine as a species of unusually chaotic yet extremely unstable beings whose appearances are as radically different as snowflakes from one and another.

I think I’ll just call them “Ayes” and moniker cheeky conjoined names like





Beloved Kostroma,
Sweet wife,
My existence began the day
I lifted your wreath from the river.
You are the other half of my soul,
Your limbs entwined with mine,
As if they had always belonged there.
And they have.
But the Gods will not smile upon us.
The blood we share has doomed us.
I cannot bare this world without you,
But I cannot live in this world with you,
The river where we found each other
Waits for me.
Kostroma, how I have loved you more than
My own life.
How I will love you after that life has ended.
Eternally yours,

Darling Kupalo,
Sweet husband,
How I used to dream of a time
When a boy would find my wreath,
And take me as his wife.
Then there was you.
And the love I bore you,
It burned inside of me,
Consumed me, and I trembled.
It is a love that spans through
Our names will be meaningless,
But they will say:
There was a girl once,
And she loved a boy,
And it ruined them.
We came into this world
Meant only for each other.
But the love I have for you,
It cannot save us.
I go to the river where you found me,
I love you, for all that I am,
I love you.
Forever yours,


Love Letters: Kupalo and Kostroma [a.m.b.]

For Kostromas

SSMonth15. Day 26: Boarding School

A/N: I will proudly announce that instead of writing my own fic, I have been binge reading other people’s works! Enjoy this fic!

P.S. Careful, there are some swearing in this and some of the situations mentioned might have implied “horizontal dancing” or heavy make out session or whatever stuff your (and mine) mind can think off!

Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters belong to Kishi-sensei.

Summary: Sakura deals with bullies! Sasuke to appear!  

“Good morning, Haruno-senpai!” a group of girls greeted.

“Haruno-senpai, you’re looking so beautiful this morning!” a love stricken boy professed.

“Thank you for helping me with Bio yesterday, Haruno-san!” a student bowed in thanks.

           Sakura smiled and waved back in greeting. These were some of the daily greetings that Haruno Sakura received in the morning on the way to the main building. As a prefect in the prestigious Konoha Boarding School, Sakura set a perfect example for her fellow peers and younger schoolmates. She’s caring, helpful, smart, brave and beautiful; she was generally well liked by the boarders of the school.

           Sakura pushed open the door to the Prefects Room, where a meeting was about to be held with Uzumaki Naruto as the Head prefect and Hyuuga Hinata as the Secretary. On Naruto’s right stood Uchiha Sasuke, head of the Disciplinary Group and on Naruto’s left sat Nara Shikamaru, the Vice Head Prefect, Naruto’s advisor. Sakura smiled at them and took her position as part of the Disciplinary Group on Naruto’s right, next to Sasuke. She observed quietly as the room filled up with various students with different roles. She felt a nudge from Sasuke and turned to look at him, curiosity evident in her eyes. His dark eyes lifted from something that was on her neck and pointed his index finger discreetly at his neck. Sakura looked at him with an eyebrow raised before her face flushed red and she hurried to fix her collar. Sakura scowled slightly and straighten her collar as high as possible, suddenly very conscious of her neck. Quietly, at her side, Sasuke chuckled before turning his attention back to Naruto as the meeting started.

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