I bought a new pill container online; it’s split into 7 individual pod that have morning and night slots so if you’re out for the night or day, you can take the pod instead of the whole week of pills.

However, it’s made by “fit and healthy” and it’s labelled on the sides. Like come on. If I was fit or healthy, then I likely wouldn’t be needing these larger, more intense pill pods?!

A Series of Bad Days

The paladins of Voltron are not picture-perfect soldiers. They haven’t been extensively trained, they weren’t hand-picked. They’re just a bunch of kids and one surrogate parent who rose to the occasion.


Shiro’s breath hitched and his shoulders shook and his nails dug into his skin. He clawed at his cheeks and his arm and his legs and anywhere he could reach, hyperventilating, his pupils dilating. He couldn’t feel the gentle grip of hands shaking his shoulders, couldn’t hear the concerned, panicked cries of his own name. All he could feel were the whips they used to beat him, all he could hear were the taunts they used to insult him, and all he could see were the galra that imprisoned him. Then, suddenly, there was a sharp pain in the side of his head, and all he could see was darkness.

He awoke to the hiss of the healing pod opening and strong arms catching him as he fell forward. He opened his eyes to worried gazes and fidgeting paladins, a concerned Allura holding him in her arms.

“What happened?”

“You had a flashback, maybe a panic attack. We had to knock you out.”

Shiro buried his face in his hands. He had thought he was getting better.

“I’m sorry.”


“Keith, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

He was not fine. How could he be fine with them crowding around him, clapping his shoulder, brushing his side, hugging him unexpectedly? He didn’t know how to handle this, he didn’t know how to react. He lived on his own for years and years, he hadn’t touched another human for the longest time until Voltron. Suddenly he was surrounded by touchy-feely people, friends who wanted to show him love in the worst way he could think of, and he hated himself for hating their kindness. What kind of person was he, to reject affection?

He shied away from Hunk’s outstretched hand, physically stepping back as his friend stepped closer. By now everyone was looking at him in concern. They walked toward him, closing in around him.

He wanted to tell them to leave him alone, to go away, but the words wouldn’t come out. His throat was closing up as Lance came forward, his eyebrows creased in worry. He gently took hold of Keith’s forearm, trying to soothe him, instead forcing Keith to restrain himself from yanking his arm away.

“Keith, what’s wrong?”

He was trembling now, and he was sure Lance could feel it. He weakly tried to pull at Lance’s grip, but the paladin wouldn’t get the message. Hunk came to him too, putting a hand on his shoulder. He made to speak, but Keith cut him off by ripping himself from the clutches of both him and Lance.

“Don’t touch me!” He tried to snarl, but it came out shaky and hurt. Hunk flinched and Lance’s eyebrows creased further. Keith’s trembling worsened and his eyes flashed with regret.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking, and he ran from the room.

The others turned to each other, wondering what just happened.

“It may have been sensory overload,” Pidge offered, adjusting their glasses. “He couldn’t handle so much contact. Try not to touch him, alright?”

No one objected.


Lance’s shoulders shook. He was exhausted and sad and he just wanted to go home. This was all too much.

He hadn’t ever been away from his family for so long, and it was hurting more than he ever imagined it could. He couldn’t hug his mother, couldn’t play with his younger siblings, couldn’t have late-night talks with his older sisters and playful wrestling matches with his older brothers, couldn’t hold his neices and nephews and tell them he loves them, couldn’t see his family at all. More than anything, he longed to at least see them again.

Tears dripped down his cheeks as sobs forced their way from his throat, ripping apart his insides and making him convulse with the force of his sadness. Broken cries filled the empty room, bouncing off the soundproof walls and back to his ears, and he sat wishing, praying for anyone to come soothe his breaking heart.

But Lance was good at not letting the others know just how deeply his despair ran, and he knew that no one would come to check on him. He knew no one suspected a thing.

And so Lance cried alone, arms wrapped around knees tucked up to his chest, crying out for a mother who couldn’t reach him, and friends who couldn’t hear him.


Trembling hands held the screwdriver as they tried to dive into their current task, sitting cross-legged on the smooth floor. The tool kept coming out of place, and they would replace it again and again only for it to slip from their grasp once more. Frustrated tears filled their eyes as they finally let go, a scream of pent up emotion clawing its way into the air.

Pidge flung the screwdriver across the room, watching as it glanced harmlessly off the far wall. Their hands shook as they gripped the machine they’d been tinkering with, and their knuckles turned white as they tried to force themself to calm down. A painful lump formed in Pidge’s throat as they fought back sobs, and soon their entire body was trembling with the strain of keeping emotion locked inside.

They finally gave up. They let it all out, crying and shouting meaningless words into the echoing room, slamming their fists down into the contraption they’d been so close to finishing. It contorted and broke apart under their vengeful strikes, and soon it fell apart through their fingertips. Tears blurred their vision as Pidge furiously wiped their eyes, digging shaking fingers into their scalp and screaming once more. They breathed heavily as they scrambled backwards, propelled by their frantic legs until their back slammed into the wall, leaving the ruined machine lying still in the center of the room.

They murmured fragmented thoughts to themself, knees drawn to their chest and clenched fists covering their face as if to block out reality.

It was then that the door opened, revealing panicked paladins looking desperately for the source of the screams. Shiro was who first rushed forward, listening to sobs and murmurs that broke his heart.

“What if they’re dead…?” Pidge whispered, their first coherent sentence. They didn’t acknowledge their friends as they crowded around their small figure. “What if they’re being tortured?”

The paladins couldn’t bring themselves to say anything as they listened to Pidge pour their thoughts into the open air.

“What if this desperate search is all for naught?” Their final statement made everyone’s breath hitch, even theirs, and they quieted save for a sniffle or a sob every now and then. This time it was Hunk who first stepped forward.

He wrapped his arms around them tightly, sitting down as close as he could to them. They automatically squished themselves up to Hunk’s side and buried their face into his shirt.

“It’ll be alright, Pidge,” he said softly. “We’ll find them.”

The paladins followed Hunk’s lead, each either hugging their friend or placing a reassuring hand on knees and shoulders. They all knew that finding their family was unlikely, but Pidge needed hope, and hope they would give.


They’d just won a long, intense battle at a major galra base on one of the earliest conquered planets. All the paladins were celebrating, congratulating one another as they watched the one surviving ship, damaged irreparably, putter away in an attempt to retain some dignity.

Hunk watched the scene with a gentle smile on his face, his helmet under his arm, standing proud next to his battered lion. The team whooped and cheered and talked amongst one another, recounting their favorite moments from the battle, exaggerating their small victories and great deeds. He wished he could join them, but he… he didn’t really have any moments he could exaggerate.

The grin dripped from his expression as his mood dropped exponentially. What use was he in the battle? All he and his lion could do was smash into all the ships and use the basic lazer that every lion had. Even then, he was the slowest of all of them–he barely helped at all.

He probably just got in everyone’s way.

Hunk’s eyes left the celebration, instead following the curves of his feet as he stared down at them.

I’m useless, aren’t I? He thought dejectedly, kicking at the red dirt he stood on. Hunk sighed and turned away from his friends, resigning to spend the rest of his time there in his lion. Nobody stopped him.

Nobody even realized he had left.


The paladins of Voltron are, to put it simply, fucked up. They’re mentally unstable, they’re miserable, they’re angry, they’re afraid, and they just want to go home.

But people don’t always get what they want.

anonymous asked:

Is there some kind of welfare watchdog to make sure Pokemon aren't just being left in their pokeballs indefinitely? What would happen if they were?

The pokemon would get out of the pokeball, they’re able to break out at any moment!

Of course, it would be bad if this happened during storage. The methods of storage used strengthen the pokeballs quite a bit. Pods like these

Aren’t just weird + minimal for aesthetic reason. They basically create an energy field that discourages pokemon from leaving. Of course, if the pokemon was especially distressed, they could resist and get out.
( It’s like what they say about hypnosis; you have to be willing and relaxed for hypnosis to work. These containers just help pokemon stay relaxed.)

If the pokemon isn’t well trained, or dislikes pokeballs, it is usually advised it stays with its trainer and not sent to a poor PC System worker to try and calm it down.

Pokeball stuff is worth its own post really, and I haven’t really come up with my own conclusion on how they work. But I imagine it puts the pokemon into suspended animation, slowing down their metabolism and needs. They can hear and “sense” what happens outside and may come out if they sense danger.

Pokemon left in a pokeball for too long may be drowsy or antsy. Extreme cases may result in a pokemon hypersensitive to external stimuli and unresponsive for an extended period of time.

EDIT: And police do sometimes have to crack down on facilities with unhealthy pokemon storage. There’s quite a few regulations on this. It’s generally agreed that a pokemon can comfortably stay in a pokeball for 48 hours without a break. Beyond that, they may start to experience slight negative side effects.


I have been in love with the reliquary pendants at Occvlta for a few years now. Their exquisitely occult beauty is enthralling. The pendants have different themes as you will notice in their unique names. Many of them contain baneful herbs like wolfsbane flowers, henbane pods, and fly agaric mushroom. Traditional witches and Venefici would benefit from the inspiring beauty and well crafted power of such an amulet.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can you do a fic with Shiro taking care of his s/o when they're sick? I loved your headcanons for that, specifically cooling their head off on his arm because it's adorable and funny! Thank you so much! :)

“Shiiiroooo, let me get my own breakfast.” You complained. You had gotten sick with a fever that the healing pods just couldn’t fix, and by the time you had thought no one had noticed, Shiro had scooped you up and demanded you go back to bed. “I’m fine, it’s probably just allergies.”

He looked at you with doubt in his eyes, “Allergies don’t exist in space, there’s no pollen here, Y/n. Besides, even if it were just allergies, we can’t have you passing out during training drills because your fever got too high.” He says, plopping you down on your bed. “You need rest.”

All you could do is whine as he tucked you in. The bedsheets quickly got uncomfortable, you were too hot for comfort.

“It’s like a sauna in here, why do I have to have bedsheets on me?” You say, kicking the sheets off. Shiro quickly tucks you in again.

“You’re shaking, and while it may seem hot to you, it’s actually kind of old in here.” He replies. “Let me take your temperature quick.” He puts his metal hand on top of your forehead. You lean into his touch, calmed by the coolness of the metal. When he tries to pull away, you use your own hand to keep it there.

“Don’t move.” You explain, “Your hand is nice.”

He looked confused, “Nice?”

“Yeah. You’re cold and I’m hot.” You explain, closing your eyes. “Stay right here, would you?” 

He sighs, giving you a worried smile. “Alright, I’ll stay for now.”

On our way to Glacier Bay National Park, we traveled the Icy Strait, which is whale territory, so we continued our search for Humpbacks. As we rounded Point Augusta, we finally spotted half a dozen whales.

We had been watching the whales for about 5 minutes when we observed them swim away from one another, then dive and flip their flukes to the sky. About 3 minutes later, we witnessed an amazing and rare behavior known as bubble feeding.

Bubble feeding occurs when a pod of whales swims below a school of fish, blowing bubbles, forcing the fish up to the surface. The whales then swim up through the bubbles with their mouths open, catching hundreds of fish.  We were very lucky to have seen this performed four times.

Continue reading adventures from days 1 and 2 here: <a href=“http://amyheiden.com/blog/alaska-day-1-2” rel=“nofollow”>amyheiden.com/blog/alaska-day-1-2</a>

So apparently, sharks have this thing called tonic immobility, in which they fall into a docile trance when they get turned upside down. It also turns out that while great whites, also have this, they can’t stay in it very long or they suffocate. 

And orcas know it. 

Orcas are so cool man, I mean, they’re super intelligent, they have amazing group coordination, and they have identifiable cultures and language. They have complex social structures and they even have a part of the brain that we don’t have that processes emotions, meaning they probably feel things in a deeper or more complex way than we do and orcas might have become one of my favorite animals ever omgosh

So apparently this one time, an orca who was part of a pod that traveled from warmer waters, where there’s less food, up to where it’s known tons of great whites gather yearly to hunt the massive seal population in this particular place. Because these orcas are from a place where there is less food, they are more opportunistic eaters and despite having just eaten a seal, this one orca noticed a shark nearby and since this orca happened to be part of a culture that encountered and hunted sharks regularly, it knew just how to hunt it.

Also, if a sharks smells the death of their own species, they will GTFO of there like Mosasaurus hoffmannii itself was on it’s tail. That instinct is so strong, it’ll even wake sharks who are in tonic immobility. So after that orca hunted that shark, that huge gathering of great whites just vanished, completely missing out on a whole feeding season.

That’s so cool!!

I’m so. What is the Passengers trailer even going to show. WHAT IS IT EVEN GOING TO SHOW.



f-avor  asked:

Daktyl weź juz nie zaczynaj na nowo bo to sensu nie ma

??? dlaczego to mi zostaje teraz zwrócona uwaga skoro to nie ze mna jest tutaj problem? powiem to tylko raz bo juz mi cisnienie skacze jak widze ze ta idiotka infantylny znowu robi szum a potem twierdzi ze jest ofiara i kompletnie nic nikomu nie zrobila. co chwile ktos mowi ze takie sprawy powinno sie załatwiać na pv a powiedzcie ile razy ja juz tłumaczyłam ze rozmawialysmy na gadu i wygladalo to tak ze przepraszala mnie,namawiala do jakiegos wpierdolu dla mateusza a na koniec jak juz sie nie zgodziłam to obrazila mnie i mojego chlopaka na forum? to samo jesli chodzi o tlo julki @otarcie ktora napisala do niej a ta jej nawet nie odpisała. wiec nie mowcie mi ze takie sprawy załatwia sie na pv czy cos bo kiedy probowalam to ona znow wyrzucala to tutaj co swiadczy o tym ze wszystko robi pod publike. zwracala mi uwage tym ze spamie jej kokpit a tydzien pozniej sama robila to ze swoim love tłumacząc sie ze to co innego bo on ma tu konto i to nie bylo anonimowe. doszla jeszcze sprawa tego jej drugiego konta. nie odezwałam sie nawet słowem a ona zaraz stwierdziła ze to ja i jakas inna dziewczyna ktorej nie znam je zalozylysmy,serio? myslicie ze ja nie mam co robic? ze az tak interesuje mnie jej osoba ze zakladam jej drugie konto? od razu wiadomo ze sama je sobie zalozyla zeby kazdego zmieszac z blotem,znow zrobic wokol siebie szum a na koncu udawac ze kompletnie nie wie o co chodzi. rzygam juz tym,bo nie mam pojecia co jeszcze musi sie stac zeby niektorzy zauważyli w koncu ze jest pusta idiotka i hipokrytka.

Wiesz, nie czuję już nic.
Ale jeśli wrócisz tu, to spróbuje odpalić tą zapałkę sprzed stu lat. Nic lepszego oprócz Ciebie mnie nie spotkało. Ja chcę kochać i po to żyję. I przyjdę do Ciebie z całą moją żałością. Wystarczy, że zadzwonisz. Będę. Nie musisz nic. Po prostu się zjawię i zostaniemy pod tym niebem przy fabryce do końca, aż wyjaśnimy sobie wszystko i poznam Cię od nowa. W końcu będę mogła Ci opowiedzieć, jak bardzo nie liczą się gwiazdy na niebie, kiedy jesteś choćby na metr ode mnie. Myślę, że nigdy Cię nie straciłam. Tylko nie wiem, co teraz robisz, myślisz i dlaczego to wszystko takie skurwiałe, że nie jesteśmy razem. Po prostu nic nie liczy się nic, nie opiszę inaczej miłości, jak nie powiem o Tobie. Wszystko odbija mi się w Tobie. Nie ma tego złego, co by na Ciebie nie wyszło. Nie zrozumiałam jeszcze, co się stało. Wyjdę gdzieś, coś pośpiewam, trochę liznę filozofii. Lubię. Tylko sól ziemi mi uciekła. Jałowość dobija, ale przynajmniej nie czuję się już samotna. Za długo Cię nie ma. Nie pamiętam. Wiem tylko, jak się z Tobą czułam. I codziennie aż do dziś potrafię się tym karmić, wyobraź sobie więc co miałam dla Ciebie. Szkoda, że nie chciałeś. Ale wiesz, jak coś, to pisz. Jestem póki nie umieram. Umierasz tylko powoli Ty, także spiesz się, póki się tli. Trzymaj się barykady i nie spadniesz. Jestem tam dla Ciebie, na końcu trwogi i lęków. Odwagi, Przyjacielu. Twoja na zawsze choć w sumie nigdy nie byłam.
—  A. P.

anonymous asked:


Send me ❤ on anon and I’ll compliment someone at random! 
.status; accepting 

[ ahhhhh judging by the icon you shoulddddd knowww
  that i am hella cheesy af @princessbrabriefs / @gratixsa

im always going to love you so friggin much and follow
you everywhere on any and every oc you write mkay,
cause you is my little pea-pod and ily so so so very much bae <3

Just you spoiled my ass and I don’t think I could possibly
love another interpretation of Bra Brief as much as I love
yourssssss like… yessss all the feels~ i cant even word properly
cause i am just so overwhelmed with Brief Fam feels~~ <3<3

@percautus whispered:

[throws self into the void bc this is true pain]

stop  this

What ever you do, don’t think about Pidge losing that photo of her and Matt during a battle, only to find out Shiro took a dive and a shot to get it back for her. Don’t you dare think about Shiro genetically recreating flowers from Hunk’s home using the Castle’s tech to put in the kitchen and in Hunk’s room without telling him it was him that did it. Don’t even consider thinking about Shiro creating a film reel of memory data from Lance’s time in the pod to make an animated holographic frame of all his good memories with his family. Don’t think about him drawing up flight diagrams and training regimens and leaving them for Keith because he knows he looked up to him.

Don’t think about Shiro painting a portrait of Allura’s dad for her without telling her it was him, leaving it in her room as a surprise for her. Don’t think about Shiro writing up a traditional recipe book of all the recipes he knows for Coran, leaving it with a letter that says “Thanks for all your hard work, I really do appreciate it even if your space goo isn’t my favourite thing.” 

Don’t think about Shiro genuinely appreciating and loving every member of their rag tag team while maintaining his own secrecy about his internal hell so no one has to feel down about him.