lesbian-mercy  asked:

headcanon; rabbit likes drinking tea because of the calming effect it has, and it helps her run slightly better because it's warm. the tea part of tea does not help her run better at all, so she has to have extra checkups in case someone put milk and/or actual tea leaves instead of a teabag in her cup. ( i'm sorry if this makes no sense i am very tired)

noooo it makes sense!!!! i love stuff like this! i actually have a headcanon the spine used to drink coffee bc thats a Human Thing™  but he has a delicate little boiler and the boiler cleaning maintenance and gross stomach ache feeling werent worth it. he still drinks warm water out of a mug every morning

one yulemas rabbit got him this mug, he genuinely he loves it and got a matching “world’s okayest sister” mug the yulemas after that

Maybe we’ll meet again, when we are slightly older and our minds less hectic, and I’ll be right for you and you’ll be right for me. But right now, I am chaos to your thoughts and you are poison to my heart.
Girl's view on guns

I see a lot of discussion around the topic. I live in a country where owning a gun is legal and getting permit isn’t hard. Yet there isn’t many guns around since it’s not exactly a part of our society. You want a gun? Fine, as you wish. It just isn’t relevant to your social status or anything. To put it bluntly, people here just don’t care. And that is how it should be in my opinion. However, not every country is like that and the topic of guns is a very heated topic. I would like to offer my view of the problem.

Self defense

I am slightly above average height girl that is fit and strong. I am trained in martial arts and I was unlucky enough to actually be in a situation where I had to defend myself. Simply run away just wasn’t an available option. I can tell you this much - street thugs and aggressive violent people in general love martial arts so I have no advantage there. However they are more experienced in using it in real situation, they are also usually bigger, heavier and stronger. Being a bit faster, isn’t actually that much of an advantage. And believe it or not, while man may just give up his earthly possessions, girl who surrenders might suffer a fate a lot worse than just losing wallet and a mobile phone.

So what options does an average girl really have?

A knife! - that actually helps against single attacker. Carry one with you every time you will go anywhere alone. Girls were raped during a daylight hours too. Single attackers tend to ambush from behind using surprise as a main factor. Tackling you and getting into a brawl before you can run. Having a short blade in a sleeve or in the thigh pocket is a great help. If you have long hair - needles to pin it down are useful too. Actually works better than a gun in this particular scenario. But once there is more than one person it’s useless.

Call for help! - ok now that is a joke. Unless you are a police bait and your unit is just around the corner it will most likely not do any good. Criminals usually don’t pick spot to commit their crimes on the places where it would help you and even if they do, it is rare that someone would respond to it otherwise than maybe calling a police. I know that from experience. Even in the urban area, that might take several minutes. And that is in a situation where seconds matter.

Pepper spray! No, not really effective. You have to be within very short range and when you are, time opponent needs to jump to you even if you have it drawn is too short. Threat of a spray is low (meaning you wont scare them away with it) and if there is more of them - it is entirely useless. Also, doesn’t have to work on everyone, especially narco addicts might not even register it. In a situation where assailant has already hands on you (ambush from behind etc.) you will disable yourself just as well.

Pull a gun - now we’re talking. If you are weaker, less prepared and in a disadvantageous situation (you always are, attacker is the one who picks time, place and a victim) while still have some space (common gang mugging scenario) gun can scare them off and if needed it can be an effective weapon even against multiple opponents. You may still go down but you at least got a chance.

Gun accessibility

Biggest and most common anti-gun argument. If we allow people to buy guns criminals will get them. I can understand the sentiment, but the truth is, there is a big black market of guns. Wishing it away is not an option. Organized crime will always have guns, people with some connections to underworld too. Thugs, street gangs. All of those will have guns if you want it or not. When my country was occupied by Nazis, they issued ban on guns of any sort and if you didn’t give your weapon up you would be executed without any legal process. The police state and army oversight was as harsh as you can imagine in occupied state. And yet, there were hundreds of thousands of guns. Taking means of self defence from the law abiding citizens means only giving an edge to the criminals. Which btw. takes me to “no gun zones”.

USA, you are crazy. Seriously. If someone wants to slaughter a bunch of innocent kids in the school or people in the theatre - he will not stop before a “no guns beyond this point” sign. But it will assure him that he will not be stopped by anyone. That is how the guy picked the theatre for a shooting spree on batman première. If someone wants to kill as many defenceless victims as he can than “no gun zone” is a huge invitation for a psychopath. And if you think no guns at all in the hands of public would solve this particular problem - let me remind you that in Germany was a mass murder in school done by a home made spear. 10 victims dead, 22 wounded. Oh and there was one with a knife in china that was stopped by a citizen with a gun.

Also, there was a questioning among inmates and about 70% of those confessed that at least at one occasions they decided not to attack because the victim might had been armed. So just ability to own means of self defence on itself is decreasing crime rate.


Girls, old people and generally everyone not a young well trained and fit male, needs a way to defend themselves. Gun is an effective way that does not rely on physical prowess and have a very high threat (meaning you can scare people off with it).

If you feel like leaving a comment, sure, go ahead.

An open letter to all of ARMY:

I was honestly planning on staying silent on this topic, but after being on tumblr for more than five minutes I saw so many posts dealing with Jin and the fan base. I’m going to try to make this quick, please just bear with me. I’ve loved Jin for such a long time so on one hand I am genuinely happy that more people are starting to notice him, but on the other it makes me slightly uncomfortable that people may only be paying attention to him because of his hair. To people who may have just started biasing Jin please think of him more as an actual person and not just some pretty face to look at. Jin is talented on so many different levels. He has a voice that angels would be jealous of, his dancing has improved so much since debut, and he’s a great cook. Personality wise he’s such a precious loving dork. He’s a little bit too obsessed with mario and this little muffin can eat his body weight in food. One of my favorite things about him is when he laughs he lets out these precious little squeaks and gently smacks the person next to him. Above all else he has shown how kind and caring he is. He takes care of the rest of the members like they are truly his younger brothers and he’s always so tolerant of the younger one’s games. This man is a blessing and on multiple occasions has shown so much selflessness and love towards the rest of the members and more importantly to his fans. My genuine wish is that all bts fans, and Jin stans, will be able to show this same love and kindness back to him. Now everyone please understand that this post wasn’t made with the intention of being offensive, and if I did sound rude while expressing my feelings I sincerely apologize. 

Okay but L is literally a frog he even croaked like one. 

as a straight, cis, able-bodied, black american woman there are a whole host of issues and subjects i’m not familiar with, have not been exposed to and/or am not qualified to speak on. consciousness is a journey, for EVERYONE, myself included. it’s impossible for me or anyone to know everything! trust, i have no problem doing my homework, but i can’t be up to date on everything. you can’t know what you don’t know. i absolutely love the tumblr community mainly because i get to interact with and learn from so many different types of people that i’ve come to love and respect. 

it’s awesome (and slightly intimidating) to be seen as someone that’s an authority on important issues, but i promise i don’t take it lightly. i just ask that you give me the space to continue learning too. as always, if you have concerns, i’m here. 

i built a home for you, for me (this is a place where i don't feel alone)

{Because I am slightly evil and enjoy crushing people hearts with angst, I decided to be nice and give a New Years gift: a fluffy fic. A very fluffy fic.I hope everyone enjoys it and has a happy New Year. Let’s hope the 2015 will be full of promises, love, and a shit ton better than 2014.} 



She’s drunk. You don’t know how she even made it back to your dorm, she’s a stumbling mess. She opened the door and fell down while holding the doorknob. You sighed and helped her sit on her bed. Which is where you are now, helping her undress while she babbles about something. She smells like whiskey and vomit and you untie her shoelaces. You slip her boots off, unbutton her leather pants and yank them off. She starts laughing and you’re kind of creeped out; you’ve seen her drunk before but never this wasted.

You pull her shirt off and you slap her hands away from where they were trying to unbutton your shirt. She’s a giddy, drunken mess and you don’t know why or how she got so drunk but you know she’s had a bad day (she didn’t look so good this morning) and you guess it was rougher than you thought. The thought makes you feel like crap because she didn’t come to you and ended up self destructing.

You end up carrying her into the bathroom. You run a bath because she’s not really capable of standing up on her own and you could just hold her the entire time, but she’s been playing with your hair and speaking nonsense, and it’s been getting on your nerves. You might drop her just to annoy her.

After you get her into the tub, you sit on the toilet seat, brushing your teeth. She’s slapping the water and causing it to splash everywhere. You leave her and go to the wardrobe (the bathroom door’s open of course, you still need to hear for safety reasons) and change quickly, bringing a pair of flannel bottoms and t-shirt with you for Carmilla. When you walk back into the bathroom, she’s just staring at the wall. She turns to you and she looks like she’s going to puke.

Ah, crap.

You drag her out of the tub, sloshing water all over the floor and flick up the toilet lid. You stand behind her, holding her hair, while she throws up. You sit on your knees and put your hand on her shoulder and rest your forehead against her bare back. You follow the water droplets that are running down her back with your eyes. You drop a kiss on her spine and help her move away from the toilet. You flush it quickly. You somehow manage to dress her while she rests against the sink cabinet. You kiss her temple and help her stand up.

She’s a little wobbly but not as bad as before. You make it your bed, where she promptly falls face first into the sheets. You put her legs on the bed and she groans while you turn off most of the lights. You slip in the bed, squishing yourself between the wall and Carmilla, so she can get to the toilet quickly if she feels sick again.

You place your hand on the small of her back and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing.


“Carmilla, just give me it back!”

“No way in fiery hell, Sweet Cheeks.”

“Carmilla! Just give me!”



She laughs and pushes past you and jumps on top of her bed, holding your yellow pillow over her head like a trophy. You huff and walk towards her and she jumps in the air, hits you in the face with your pillow, and you faceplant on her bed. You hear a thud and her laughter, and when you look at her, she’s standing on your bed, hunched over in laughter.

The nerve.

You snatch one of the pillows off her bed and smack her in the knees. She collapses onto her knees and you hit her in the face with the pillow. While she recovers, you yank the yellow prize out of her hands and stand next to her bed, and you puff out your chest. She launches herself at you and slams into your stomach. You lose your breathe and you fall on her bed with Carmilla wrapped around your midsection. She starts tickling you and you screech (you’re surprised that no one has filed a noise complaint yet).

You struggle to get out of her grasp and she moves, so now she’s straddling you with her head tucked into your neck, tickling your sides and laughing against your skin. You, somehow, manage to push her off you and you attack her, so now she’s the one trying to escape. She’s kicking her legs into the air and tears are leaking out of her eyes and laughing in your face and she looks so carefree and eighteen again, and you wonder when was the last time she felt this young.

She pushes at your shoulders and you lunge over her and grab the yellow pillow. You quickly shuffle off of her and slide down the bed. You turn and you were going to jump to the safety of your bed, but she tackles your legs and you fall to the ground with a thud. She crawls up to you and she looks panicked (you guess you fell harder than she thought you would’ve), but when you laugh and tangle your hands in her curls, she softens and grins. You pull her down for a long kiss full of laughter and love.

You don’t know why she’s in a good mood today, but you’ll take her good days without complaint or question.

You’ll take her bad ones the same way.


You end up eating dinner on the floor, resting your back against Carmilla’s bed. She had gotten up and made you hot chocolate and grabbed an unopened packet of cookies for you, which is almost empty. She has a half a cup of blood and has eaten half a loaf of sliced white bread because, “I can eat whatever I want, cutie, and never lose this body. One of the perks of being immortal”.

You’re curled up against her side, munching away on a cookie and the yellow pillow is between your backs and the bed. She grabs another slice, folds it in half, and promptly devours it. You catch a sight of her fangs when she eats the bread.

She catches you staring and she looks at you in confusion. You trace her lips with your fingers and when she opens her mouth, you drag the pad of your finger down one of her fangs. When you look at her face, she looks expressionless but you see something that looks like fear in her eyes. You place your hand on the back of her neck, tangle your fingers in her hair, and kiss her hard. When you pull back, she kisses you on the tip of your nose and drinks some blood. You eat another cookie and Carmilla does her weird bread thing that’s secretly kind of cute and quirky, and you giggle a little about that.

She looks at you and looks perplexed, and you see that she had bread crumbs all over her shirt and face, and you laugh. You feel bad for laughing though, because she jumps at the sudden noise and you just breathed all your cookie breath in her face. She looks worried and her face is all scrunched up, and you brush the crumbs off her face and shirt. You shake you head and she offers you a slice of bread. You take it and rip of the crust and hand it to her. She laughs but takes it anyway, crushes the crust into a ball and eats it.

God, you’re so in love this this dork.


You’re standing in the doorway of your room with you mouth wide open. The beds are pushed together and, well, there’s a blanket fort. There’s only two lamps on and they’re in the dark blankets. You can see Carmilla’s shadow inside the fort. You have no idea what’s going on, but the fort looks freaking awesome.

“Uh, Carmilla?”

“Oh shit! You’re back already?” She slips out of the fort and looks at you wide eyed. Her hair is disheveled and her shirt is askew, letting you see a sliver of pale skin.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Damn, I misjudged the time,” She puts her hands on her hips and bites her lip.

“What is-how did you do this?” You gesture to the room; the furniture is everywhere and you’re sure that you didn’t have that many blankets in your dorm.

“I had the Ginger Squad help me out a bit with building it and the blankets. Xena’s long limbs were finally useful.”

“Ah,” you nod and stand next to her, looking at the fort in awe. “Why?”

“You said you were going to be a little late today and I knew you weren’t feeling so well.” She bites her lip again and you slide an arm around her waist and pull her into a long kiss. She pushes at you and chuckles. “Go get in it, Munchkin.”

You set down your bag and crawl into the fort. The lamps are dim and they give off an orange glow inside the space. You gaze around the space in awe and you notice LaF’s laptop is sitting on a pillow (not the yellow one, that one’s in the pile of pillow backrests). Carmilla slithers up next to you and you punch her lightly in the arm.

“You jerk, you didn’t have to do this!”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes I like it! But still, it must’ve been horrendous to make!”

“Well, as long as you like it, it’s worth it.” She grins and you see her fangs highlighted by the soft light. She curls up next to you and lays her head on your shoulder. You kiss her forehead and tangle you fingers with hers. “You wanna watch something? I convinced LaF to let me borrow their laptop for tonight.” You nod and grab the computer while Carmilla settles back on the mound of pillows. You curl up into her side and browse this one download LaF has on her pc, Show Box, for movies. She lets you pick the movie.

You pick The Fault In Our Stars.


You regret picking that one.


You wipe your tears and you catch Carmilla rubbing her eyes.

“I thought vampires didn’t cry.”

“I thought you were going to pick some romcom or something. Jesus, Cupcake, why did you pick that one?”

“Everyone said it was good.”

“Before or after the tears?! I pick next time.” You agree and sniffle. Carmilla’s eyes are shining and she looks a little distraught. You wrap your hand in her, no, your shirt. She looks over at you, leans over and wipes the tears off your cheek. She’s looking at you with a gleam in her eye, like you are the sun and the stars and the moon above and it’s making your chest ache.The light is glowing against her skin and her hair looks black and she is so beautiful, you will never get tired of looking at her.

You pull her into a kiss and her hands slip under your shirt, squeezing your waist. You roll over so you’re on top of her and she tangles her fingers in your hair and pulls you back to her mouth. Your hands slip under her shirt and run up and down her hard stomach. She moans and you roll your hips into hers, making her groan louder. You pull back from her mouth and take off her shirt, then yours, and you kiss her so hard, her head gets pushed far into the pillows.

You laugh because the image of her head being covered by pillows reminds you of an ostrich.

She gets the pillows off of her face and glares at you. You smile and cover your teeth with your hand.

“Shut up, Creampuff.”

“Alright, Ostrich.” She rolls her eyes and grounds her hips into yours and that makes you stop laughing. You push her shoulders into the mattress and she drags her nails down your back. You let out a throaty moan.

“Now who’s laughing?”


You’d never thought you’d have sex in a pillow fort.

You’d never thought you’d be dating a vampire, either.

You’re not really complaining.


You’re at a New Year’s party and everyone is waiting around for the ball to drop. You lean against Carmilla and she’s twirling your hair with her finger. You know she doesn’t really want to be here, so you ask her if she wants to go outside, and she replies quickly. You take her hand and lead her into the yard. The sky is clear and Carmilla watches the stars gleaming against the dark canvas. You rest your head on her shoulder and she wraps her arm around your waist.

You stay like that until you hear the countdown. You’re a little nervous; you’ve never been kissed on New Years, but when Carmilla is gazing at you, you’re not so nervous anymore. You hear the countdown finish and Carmilla swoops down and kisses you soundly. She is so gentle; her hands are on your face and she is kissing you like you’re her last breathe, and it reminds you of the first time you kissed back when she saved you. You break apart slowly and when you open your eyes, she still has hers closed.

You press your forehead to hers and she opens her eyes slowly. You notice they’re shining and you rub your thumbs over her cheekbones. She closes her eyes and you kiss her eyelids gently, then her forehead and nose. You place your forehead back on hers. She smiles softly at you and you drag your hands down her neck.

“You know I really love you, right?” She stills for a second, then you feel her nod against your forehead.

“And I you,” her breath dances across your lips, “I have never loved anyone greater than I love you. I have centuries of love to give, and you have it all.”

You kiss her because that was probably the most poetic thing anyone has ever told you. She chuckles quietly. “I guess this means I’m your drunken mess.”

“No, Carmilla, you’re my drunk. You’re not a mess.”

You hear the party going on behind you but being here, with Carmilla, is all you could ever ask for. She kisses you again with the moonlight shining against her cheekbones. You rest your head in the crook of her neck and you feel her raise your clasped hands. You place a hand on her shoulder and she has hers on your waist.

You begin the New Year waltzing in a grassy backyard, under the moonlight, wrapped in warmth that is Carmilla, and she smells like woodsmoke and new beginnings, and you think that this year will be the best you’ve ever had.

My name is Aubrey and I am a 25 year old child. I am the funniest person I know and I laugh at absolutely everything. I’m slightly addicted to coffee and even more addicted to the mugs that this crack goes in. I have my dad’s smile and my mothers temper. My goal in life is to make my parents proud. My motivation comes and goes like the weather but seeing other people work towards their goals keeps me going. I hope to look back on my life and smile knowing that I tried my hardest, loved the deepest, and laughed the loudest. I refuse to dumb down my success for small minded people. I refuse to be anything but wonderful and passionate and kind in such a crazy messed up world. I will fight with every fiber of my being to breathe happiness and life into my saddest days. I’m ready. I’m so ready. This is my time to shine. #motivation #fitness #recovery #bodybuilding #wearecrush #crushfit #health

Made with Instagram
I keep trying to figure out why I am not jealous of Joanne Tucker

I mean I should be….every rational, natural instinct says I should. I mean she’s married to THE most amazing man in the world. She has someone that I would absolutely love to have. So why when I see pictures of her and him…

Originally posted by adamndriver

am I happy???? 

Well I’ve realized it’s because she makes him happy. You can tell how much he loves her just by seeing them on the red carpet together. She seems to be the only person that can make him feel slightly comfortable on the red carpet. Without her he seems kind of

Originally posted by knights-of-kylo-ren

Originally posted by adamdrivergivesmelife

….lost. And that absolutely breaks my heart. 

I guess I can’t be jealous of her because she’s doing something very important. She’s making someone who genuinely deserves it happy. Thank you Joanne. You’re doing something that thousands of people wish they could do, but that only one can. 


a fan still drowning in her own daydreams

My father is black Jamaican. My mother is mixed white British and Brazilian (my grandmother is Brazilian). My family is hardly white. I find it extremely offensive that you assumed I an white because I disagree with your views. I came on tumblr to follow fandom blogs, but most of them got caught up in the tumblr SJ logic which I do not agree with a lot of the time. I did not join tumblr for politics. I am sick & tired of white, middle class Americans assuming how ‘oppressed’ I should be because I am a 'POC’ (another highly offensive term for me. I am not some mythical person of colour who has exactly the same interests and culture as other slightly brown people. It’s not me vs white people. Plus, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth as 'coloured’ was a racial slur in the UK). I hate everything about tumblr SJ, and your little comment further proves my point. I love white people. Deal with it.


Favorite female characters

→ Rory Gilmore

“I live in two worlds. One is a world of books. I’ve been a resident of Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County, hunted the white whale aboard the Pequod, fought alongside Napoleon, sailed a raft with Huck and Jim, committed absurdities with Ignatius J. Reilly, rode a sad train with Anna Karenina and strolled down Swann’s Way. It’s a rewarding world, but my second one is by far superior. My second one is populated with characters slightly less eccentric, but supremely real, made of flesh and bone, full of love, who are my ultimate inspiration for everything. Richard and Emily Gilmore are kind, decent, unfailingly generous people. They are my twin pillars, without whom I could not stand. I am proud to be their grandchild. But my ultimate inspiration comes from my best friend, the dazzling woman from whom I received my name and my life’s blood, Lorelai Gilmore.”

It was always in the script. That scene is something I’ve been wanting to put in the show since the pilot was green-lit. I don’t know if people will read into it, but the movie is one of my favorite movies, and the book is one of my favorite books, and what I loved about that is that, in so many ways, Danny is Darcy. It was such a fun, slightly-meta way to pay homage to that book, which is just so good. And his accent is just so bad and so funny and so adorable. And his little glasses!

-Mindy Kaling

Yes, Danny is Darcy! I’ve said that since the pilot.

Also, (little voice) am I the only one who thought his accent was good and was a little turned on?

Letter to my future wife

Dear future wife, wherever you are
please know you are my shining star
please don’t take my words lightly
because for you love I’m jealous slightly
ok maybe all the way
just know for your love in my life I await the day
patient I have been
somedays I feel my patience is growing thin
I Promise to love you unconditionally
💯 no doubt mentally and physically
I will love and cherish everything that encompasses you
My love for you will be 120 proof
I will open up completely to you emotionally
Wait let me double back forgot I will also love you spiritually
yes I am human and I will be flawed
but the power of our love will leave people in awe
these things and more I promise to you
just know the day I find you my dreams would have come true..

rewatching season 3 of lok!! I still love the red lotus guys so much as characters, just, AUGH.  p’li is so big! zaheer is so little!  THEY ARE IN LOVE. I AM SLAIN.

on a slightly more serious note, I remember people fussing over zaheer’s airbending prowess when this came out–why, they said, would he know how to actually airbend?  just because he’s studied the philosophy doesn’t mean he would know the actual martial art!  

WELL, they never go into this but it seems perfectly logical to me that he would have been practicing the forms as well as studying the air nation’s writings.  he was already a part of a revolutionary group; he needed to be able to fight anyway.  is there any other martial arts style he’d go for if he had the choice? (the answer is no.)

anyway, those are my thoughts on that, a couple of years late. ^u^/

why do job applications expect us to convince them that we are the Best and Most Interesting Most Productive person who is Driven to Exceed Expectations

I am just ok and most people are just ok and most people looking for a part time wage job are just looking for a job where they can make money

very few people are naturally driven to have a Slavish Devotion to the Customer and most service work jobs are so shitty that even already-nice people have to pretend to be nicer than they actually are

like yes, I appreciate that you don’t want to hire an asshole, but I’m just an ok, slightly friendly dude and it makes me uncomfortable to have to falsely assert that I love all people and want to help them sooooooo much just so I can get a job delivering pizzas or something

I was in the car this morning, driving to Starbucks when one of  my favorite songs came onto the radio. So I decided to jam out, it wasn’t though till I realized that the people in the car next to me, were filming the whole entire thing. I am slightly embarrassed and I really hope they didn’t know who I was, because if this is all over the internet in the next couple of days then I’m screwed.