this picture makes me feel too many things

kpop stans on

1. aesthetic stan: probably got a cute url or smth like … 1melon or whatever lmao …… they either reblog aesthetic posts on their main or have a special side blog for it where they post random pictures from instagram…. pretty mobile themes… usually quiet and nice. probably like using heart emojis. have a nice tagging system!

2. loud, extra stan: TAGS TAGS TAGS oh god the tags, they cant live without TAGS, you either Go Full On Caps Lock When You See A Picture Of Ur Ultimate Bias Or You Go Home, enthusiastic, lovely, and humorous! might not have many friends but many people love them and are too shy to tell them usually, they Scream and They Make Memes Probably, “INVENTOR OF THIS COLOR INVENTOR OF MUSIC INVENTOR OF JEANS INVENTOR INVENTOR INVENTOR”, feel lots of things At Once, “OJYMNDNSNDNSKDJNDND”, usually pretty popular stans, have urls that are not forgettable and funny

3. soft stan: theyll never shut up about their bias trust me, will see a picture of two trees probably and go “me and (bias)💘”, actually write love letters to their biases sometimes, really just want the best for their bias, “my baby…. my cinnamon apple😢💕💞💘💗💝💞💕”, uses heart emojis alot whew!, or just emojis in general… they love them, they seem polite, sweet and their presence is usually calming!, probably likes reblogging aesthetic stuff as well!, probably has some url like “(bias)sgf/bf/girl/girlfriend/baby/etc”, usually pretty protective over their bias, probably well liked

4. the ‘i never talk’ stan: never uses tags, never posts, all just reblogs…., they probably like ur posts ALOT, and you kinda wanna follow back, but who… are they even, mobile theme is.. questionable sometimes, i think all they care about is just reblogging the stuff they like lmfao theyre not about that tumblr life probably

5. drama stan: have beef with everyone, probably have a mile long byf page, and a block list lmfao, they usually post aesthetic stuff and maybe have nice urls too, seem intimidating and ‘mean’ usually, “callout post for (insert url)”, petty and nosy as hell, cant mind their own business!

6. the normal stan: a pretty cool person actually, you just think…. Wow i wanna be friends w them bc they seem so tolerant and nice?, uses tags but in a normal way, like “#oh my god #hes the cutest #my heart”, you just wonder how someone can be this chill…, they probably rarely come online too!

7. the multifandom stan: their blog is….. Everything, a pretty MESS, how can they even keep up like dang…, have so much love for so many people… its great!, might occasionally post personal stuff, probably a gif maker, generally liked, friends with the normal stans probably!, a great tagging system usually

8. the NASTY stan: “DADDY😫😫😫”, probably use twitter, thirsty as hell Give Them Water, theyre similar to the extra stans usually, kinky as hell, probably under 18 LMFAO, “i want them to **** ** ** *** ***”, people probably told them to chill before, they usually dont really care, NOOOOO CHILL, loves reading smut probably🙃

9. the gfx stan: SO GREAT, MAKE AMAZING EDITS, come up with great things you just wonder yoooo how they Do That, probably too cool for you, might not talk often! but they get lots of messages probably saying how nice their work is, are just great people like… thanks Gfx Stans For Existing

What it is like being a studying poc with anxiety to the highest capacity and how I deal with it.

The first thing I have to tell you is that - your family may not understand and that is okay. Do not blame them for not understanding what anxiety is, the environment you grew up in and the environment they grew up in are completely different, also we have different pressures that we are facing. For example, my father and his entire family were fleeing a genocide - and the last thing on their mind was mental health and personal care. However, as a first generation living in the United Kingdom - mental health is the most important thing to me and being students, I know we put a world’s worth of pressure on succeeding and doing well. This may not always be good for us (unless you work well under pressure, do you). 

Let me just talk a bit about my anxiety here. It is mostly situational anxiety - for example when it comes to exams or public speaking (my role on the school head girl team meant I had to just literally speak publicly every other day - I will make a separate post about this and how I overcame that fear) exam season and revision. 

These tips won’t make anxiety go away completely, but studying with anxiety can be made easier - yes, I know it sounds insane, but it has really worked for me. 

1. Make your desk a safe space. 

Make your desk as soothing for your anxiety as possible. This may include having some plants around, decorating your desk with a particular theme - make it work for you! Let the theme be relaxing, have pictures of the ocean! Let it completely sooth you when you sit down to study. I personally have my desk next to a window so I can get fresh air when I need it. That is another thing… Let yourself breath - do not make your desk too cluttered, have it super minimalist, the less you feel claustrophobic the better. 

2. Try and get into a routine. 

This is does not always work for me because I work in bursts - but it has worked for many of my friends. When you have a routine, you won’t feel blindsided when you have to study - for example, I get super anxious when I can feel the amount of work I need to do. But if you have a routine, you know that you are studying at this specific time and nothing is being thrown in your direction - you can plan for it therefore remain completely in control. 

3. Avoid caffeine - seriously. 

I know that coffee looks super cute for the aesthetic tumblr photos but - avoid it at all costs! Caffeine is a psychoactive drug.  Lets call it what it is and it is mega terrible for your anxiety. It will cause and/or exacerbate your anxiety symptoms. I can not stress this enough, stay away from caffeine. 

4. Take your medications - if you have been subscribed them!

I am not ashamed to tell the world, loud and clear - I am on Propranolol for when my anxiety becomes uncontrollable (lets start publicly making it ok and safe for people to take medications without any stigma please, thanks). Yes, it is a super strong tablet. For those who do not know, its a beta blocker and it stops you from physically having a panic attack by keeping your heart at a consistent rhythm or beat I don’t know the correct terminology (medblrs come through) - do not be ashamed, be proud that you are taking the necessary steps to gain control again. 

5. Take regular walks and control your breaking.

I walk to the breaths I take - a bit like walking to a beat, but its more relaxing. With anxiety, breaking is the key to mastering it. Master your breathing! I’ve noticed that being deeply connected to my breathing means I sense any tension in my body and sensing tension is the first step to identifying if you are feeling anxious or if you feel a panic attack coming on. 

6. Keep a close eye on your stimuli! (Yes, I did just rhyme)

What is making you anxious? Do you have triggers? If you do - learn to minimise contact with them. Be it a person, a place, an object. You do not need to stay in environments that make you feel uncomfortable (unless you are forced to stay - for example dealing with anxiety in class, I’ll make a another post about how to deal with that) I had a friend who used to make me super anxious and I don’t spend that much time with her anymore simply because she wasn’t good for my mental health. Which brings me to my next point - people can be triggers to your anxiety and staying away from them is OK. 

I don’t know if this is helpful but if even one person benefits from this - putting myself out there and owning my anxiety disorder is so worth it. Suffering from anxiety is hard, it is really hard and I just want to say - to all those who suffer from anxiety, you are going to be ok. Whatever coping technique you have or however you deal with it, I am proud of you and you are doing great. 

My message box and ask is open to you. Sometimes talking to another sufferer is easier - I understand and I’ve got you, message me, rant to me! It is better out than in. 

This is my first - really official post on tumblr and I want to know if this was helpful, please give me feedback. I want to learn how I can help and get the message out there more effectively. 

And because it is my first post - I’m going to tag some of my favourite blogs (not the most subtle introduction haha, but super important)

@elkstudies @nehrdist @princess-of-positivity @quilavastudy @rookistudies @smartstudies @studydiaryofamedstudent @studyign @studyingdaisies @tbhstudying @alimastudies @studie-s @studyfulltime @jiyeonstudies @nicoles-studyblr @mochi-studies @littlestudyblrblog @lentilstudies @inspostudying @fromquantumfluctuations @elsastudies @cardiacstvdies @bstudies

photo credit to @serendipikitty

I’ve had a great week at work, but I still can’t shake the blues. So it was a treat to remember I’d been tagged by @rayonthego. I’ve done something like this recently, but I think some of the questions are different.

Name: Rebecca
Nickname: Beka. Never, never, never Becky.
Gender: Yes
Star Sign: Libra
Height: 5′ 6″
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Hogwarts: Gryffindor
Favorite Color: Greens and blues
Favorite Animal: Tree Frog
Average Hours of Sleep: Never enough
Time Right Now: 9:25 A.M.
Cat or Dog Person: Both

A Favorite Fictional Character: I could never choose a favorite, but the two that spring to mind first are Hermione Granger and Marion Stone (half of a pair of formerly conjoined twins in Cutting for Stone).
Number of Blankets: One
Favorite Singer/Band: Again, impossible. But when I look at my music, I apparently have almost every song The Kinks ever put out.
Dream Trip: A long tour of Italy. Florence is my favorite of any city I’ve ever visited.
Dream Job: Working at a charitable foundation.
When Was This Blog Created: 2009, but I only reblogged for the first couple of years.
Current Number of Followers: More than I deserve.
When Did Your Account Peak: I would probably gauge the success of my blog by how therapeutic it was for me. So on a purely personal level, I think 2013 to 2014 was when I really exorcised a lot of demons.
What Made You Decide to Make a Tumblr: All the pretty pictures.
Why Did You Pick Your URL: My name is Beka, and it was available.
Last Thing I Googled: succubus and incubus

Fictional Character You’d Like as a Sibling: Christopher Robin
How Many Blogs I Follow: Way too many. I feel guilty, because I can’t keep up with all of you. But I can’t quit you.
What Do I Post About: My daily life, my face, phone pictures, and random thoughts.
Do You Get Asks On a Regular Basis: Yes. I have been so supported here, that it’s ridiculous. It feels unmerited, but I appreciate the kind words from my friends here more than you know.
Aesthetic: Pre-hoarder

Thank you, Ray!!

I will tag @lipstickspice, @drethecajun, @officeslave6, @jeffwcpa, and @mindfullofnothingness .

“I don’t feel like an entertainer, but I try to send people home with a good feeling. I want to delight them. When I go to a film or a show, I want to be thrilled. I try to make the fans happy too. They pay so much money to watch us. I try to give them value for money. And hopefully they go home smiling after 90 minutes.”

“There are dozens of picture on this table in which I’m laughing. That’s me. Even if things aren’t going my way, I try to keep smiling. Fun is my fuel, nothing else. I am one of the lucky ones doing a job that I love. Many people would be happy to be in a footballer’s shoes. That’s why I enjoy every day.”

-Eden Hazard

I’m going to pull back my presence on this blog. With everything going on with Cyrus, I am feeling the need for some anonymity. I’m going to keep this blog up. It’ll be more formal. Pictures (both dslr & insta), silly things the kids say, etc.. More personal things will be on a new blog, with pseudonyms. I just have way too many followers (over 4K? Idk how) to feel comfortable talking about it all & Cyrus will need some privacy, but I still need an outlet & a way to interact with you all.

If the small handful of you that I talk to on the regular &/or are mutuals with are interested in keeping up, let me know. I’ll tell you the blog name. It’s just easier for me to make a new, more anonymous blog than make something password protected or whatever. & I don’t want to ditch this blog completely either.

Why Mary?

Unpopular Opinion: I would’ve much rather had John come back instead of Mary.

Yeah okay, Mommy’s back, but I don’t believe that is what Dean truly wanted. Amara went off of a picture. For all we know, he needed his father.

I mean, think about it, do you think Dean wanted to pull Mary– his dear mother– back into the crossfire? Who’s probably in heaven and happy and clueless to the hell that is her son’s lives. Do you have any idea how much damage can be done to a mother when she finds out her sons went to hell and back multiple times and have died because of HER?

And Dean probably knows this. So– why Mary? Don’t you think John would’ve been smarter? I mean, Dean and Sam have always had problems with their father, and their father coming back could give us a real character with major flaws and quirks that could progress not JUST the story arch but our main character’s development. I mean– Imagine John looking baffled but slowly clapping Dean on the back when he finds out he killed Hitler and stopped Nuclear Armageddon take two or when Dean shares stories about beating the devil or the Darkness and John’s like “I’m still cooler than you.” Then he brings up Chuck and John just shakes his stubborn head muttering something like “I really should find a way to get you boys healthcare. All the alcohol and cheap meds in your blood is getting to your heads.”

Or John finally realizing how strong Sam is and giving him the hug he’s always deserved and caving in and deciding to just sit down and have a beer with him. But he still jokes about him being a college nerd, to which Sam just shakes his head fondly.

Or for the first time John meets Cas and him accidentally stabbing him like Dean did when he comes in looking for Sam. And then he just stares quizzically when the angel and Dean hug and mutters “So– you like dick now? Gotta say, always thought boobs were your thing.” And Dean just guffaws and starts rambling like he always does when people assume he’s gay (I mean he’s bi ppl XDJkJk it’s a pipe dream) whilst Cas looks at John, then Dean, then his crotch and– well you get it. Or when he finds out Cas is an Angel and scoffs, asking him where his harp and fluffy wings are and Cas just squints whilst glaring and unfolds his wings and john doesn’t speak, just gulps and takes a step back whilst Dean looks proud like Cas has just made the Sun shy away and dim down. It’d be so funny, awesome, and adorable at the same time.

And just imagine how quick the BMOL issue would’ve been solved with John back on board. He wouldn’t join them under any circumstances, unlike Mary, and when he finds out his son is being tortured I’m 100% certain he’d shoot Toni point blank. And, while John was tough as rocks, he’s respected greatly by a lot of hunters and with his words Not one would say yes or even consider the brit douchebags. He’d shoot Hess without hearing a single word on her side and he’d have gotten Mick onto the boys side much quicker through a guilt trip or something. And don’t even get me started on Ketch, Bastard wouldn’t even know what’s coming to him. John’s ruthless when he wants to be, but he’s also smart (albeit a bit hotheaded)

So– with all this and probably more in perspective– why throw a blank canvas into the fire and not a developed work that will bring not just more power but character to both our protagonists, the rough story arch, and the work himself? I mean, it’s kind of lazy throwing in Mary. Yeah, feelings and all the “I haven’t seen her since we were kids blah blah blah” card– but I just don’t get it. Dean has only seen Mary up until he was four (without regard to his time travel meetings) so really– there won’t be many feelings other than sadness and happiness towards her (Maybe a bit of shock value from us that lasts about an episode until the hype is gone). But with John, the man who raised Dean the way he is (tying in a lot of emotional and mental issues that could really help develop Dean and John’s characters more) and the one who threw both boys into this whole mess with just a phone call– him coming back would bring so many emotions into the picture. And the season would’ve been a lot more interesting.

All I’m saying is, I’d rather have John in the picture (apparently Jensen did too so–), trying to make up for his sorry ass of a father after spending time in what I assume is heaven, than Mary disappearing for episodes at a time without any real purpose but to make the boys a bit sad (it takes the boys talking about her to remind me she’s banging Ketch. No really what’s up with that whole thing).

She really just feels like a plot device. I mean, even the ending glossed over her. If John was in her place, I imagine him standing up to the devil or at the very least not being stupid enough to even get himself in that situation. Or if he does get in the situation, he would probably start teaming up with all the survivors he can find (including Bobby who would probably try and shoot him first) to beat Lucifer down and find a way to return to his boys or die fucking trying. He’d have a better chance and we would actually feel some sort of emotion towards him because, to put it simply, we know him more. John Winchester wasn’t an abusive father (physically at least– or so I hope), he was a Soldier– still a dick– but a soldier.

Mary wasn’t a civilian by any means, but she was sheltered in heaven for years without understanding why she was back. Even she wanted to go back. I just feel they butchered her character. We’ve had eleven seasons to build up this picture of badass Mary Winchester who loves her children more than anything– not this somewhat ignorant and dethatched huntress that turns her head to her sons when she shouldn’t have. It took Dean telling her he hated her to wake her up, what do you think that says about her?

I love Mary, I really do, but I would’ve preferred John. Sorry.

Update: I appreciate all of your replies and thanks for trying to clear things up a bit for me. Whilst I love Mary– I really do and you can’t argue that she isn’t a fucking badass– I still would’ve enjoyed seeing John interact with the boys. And I still stand by the fact that John WOULD be intimidated by Cas, to some degree at least. John is brave, ruthless even, but he is also very smart. He won’t argue or sass or try and annoy a multi-dimensional being who can render him a bloody smear on a wall (even though we know Cas won’t do it doesn’t mean John would know) So, whilst he may not show it, almost 100% sure John would be weary or intimidated by the bundle of power that is him. Lets not forget he isn’t as keen on Angels (unless he is, though this is unlikely as they weren’t in his journal) as he is Demons and would keep all defenses up until he knows everything there is to know about them. John is still human– human’s fear and he isn’t an exception. As for BI Dean? Let a girl enjoy her fictional character dreams. I’m not hurting anyone and I’m not stating it as a fact that he is Bisexual. It’s not like I’m calling Jensen Bi. I’m calling the MADE-UP character Dean Bisexual because I feel that he is.

Okay, so anyway, Thank you and good night!

PS: But seriously– wouldn’t it be hilarious if John bashed a vamp’s head in or something with Lucille.





“Women are brainwashed into feeling like we have to be skinny, sexy, desirable, or perfect. One of the many things I was tired of was the constant judgment of women. The constant stereotyping through every medium that makes us feel like being a normal size is not normal, and heaven forbid if you’re plus-size. Every time I left the house, I would be worried if I didn’t put on makeup: What if someone wanted a picture? What if they posted it? These were the insecure, superficial, but honest thoughts I was thinking. And all of it, one way or another, was based too much on what other people thought of me. But I don’t want to cover up anymore. Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing.”

Weightlifting for beginners

Have you ever walked into a room and everyone has stopped what they’re doing to look at you? So you go red, mutter an apology and stumble out? Well that’s what my first foray into the weight-lifting area of a gym was like back at university. 

It took me a while to go back and that was only with another woman to keep me company. Since then I’ve fallen in love with lifting weights, especially with how it makes me feel and how it enables me to sculpt my body. Also, I hate cardio and find it much easier to push myself when it comes to picking heavy things up and putting them down again. 

But I’ve been asked many times about how to get into weight lifting so I thought I’d put together a beginner’s guide to weight lifting for men and women (because the weights room can be a scary place for men too!)

Step 1: Picture the hero or heroine in your favourite film and strut into the place like you own it. Hold your head high, have confidence in yourself and remind yourself that you’re there to enjoy it 

Step 2: But don’t be scared about asking for help

Step 3: Nail the basics. I’d recommend that you start with a squat, a deadlift, a shoulder press and a bicep curl. Watch videos on YouTube if you really don’t want to ask for help but remember, personal trainers and gym instructors are there to keep you safe

Step 4: Perfect your technique before you start adding on any serious weight because bad technique + heavy weights = all of the pain 

Step 5: Once you’ve got the technique down start adding the weights on. You should be using a suitable weight for the number of sets and reps that you’re doing. At the end of each set you should be feeling like you can’t really do many more. This is how you force your body to adapt and hit your goals, whether they are strength, hypertrophy (muscle growth) or endurance

Step 6: Track your progress rather than trying to remember all of the numbers. I keep a note on my phone of all of the weights that I’m currently lifting

Step 7: Just like with any other physical progress you may hit a plateau. If this happens, have a deload week. Try some lighter weights or try some other things. When you come back to it you’ll feel fresher and most likely will be able to push your weights up

Remember, it’s never as scary as you think it’s going to be and everyone is much friendlier than you think they’re going to be!

If you’re really struggling it might be worth having a session or two with a personal trainer to put together a programme and show you some of the moves.

Now, please excuse me while I go and hit a PB…

Pictured above: A young woman blowing her birthday cake candle and wishing for some 19.1 cm to come her way this year. Thank you so much for all your beautiful messages💕💕 The past couple of years I’ve pushed many people away because of many things that happened in my personal life, so I expected the few messages I got to come mostly from my family, but I honestly wasn’t expecting such love here in tumblr💕💕 I am beyond grateful and can’t thank you all enough for making me feel appreciated! You all are too sweet on me ;; thanks, gracias, gracias, gracias, de todo corazón💕

i don’t want to fight

Group/Member: GOT7/Jackson

Genre: Angst, Fluff Ending

Word Count: 1k

Drabble #: 2 & 7 “I think what you’re feeling is called guilt.” // “You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?”

Requested: yes/no : Hey babe. Could I get a Jackson drabble? I can’t decide between 2 and 7 so I was wondering if there’s a way you could fit those two together? Totally get it if you can’t and want to write something else instead. Thank you!

Author’s Note: It took me a while to get this one out because I wanted a situation that could blend the two drabble numbers together and still be believable. So true story, my friend is horrible for doing this. We’ll make plans to meet at like 8, and she’ll lay down for a nap at like 4 and won’t wake up until 10 pm.  (´・ω・`)

Originally posted by wanqkong

The air in the room felt like pure electricity. Like one of you could get shocked at any moment, and yet every single body gesture you made and every word you spit added to the energy. It felt like it had been hours ago that you had been awoken by the loud slam of a door, the stomping of feet up the stairs and scoffing of your boyfriend.

“How many times do I have to tell you I was sorry? It’s not like I meant to sleep in that long Jackson! I’m exhausted!” you yell back at him, angry tears polling at the corners of your eyes as he simply rolled his eyes. “And I’m not tired? But I don’t go around sleeping through our dates, especially when I have such limited days off,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms, your entire being growing furious again. “Oh I’m so sorry Mr. Idol, I forgot that just because I’m a normal human being and not some celebrity that I’m not allowed to feel exhausted too,” you spat before making your way around him and making your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Your throat was on fire from the yelling the two of you had done over the pat hour.

Jackson had arranged for the two of you to go to a fancy restaurant that night when he finished running some errands because it wasn’t very often that he had an entire night off. That afternoon after you’d finished work you’d decided you had enough time to lay down for a nap but forgot to set your phone alarm and ended up sleeping until nearly ten that night when Jackson had decided to declare his presence and anger to the entire world. Despite the amount of times that you had tried to tell him how sorry you were, he’d refused to accept your apology which in the end angered you and caused the fight you were currently in.

Standing there, hand gripped tightly around the glass, you heard Jackson enter the kitchen as well opening the fridge and dig around in it. “Well I might as well find something to eat since you decided to sleep through our dinner,” he spat, but that was the final straw for you as you slammed your glass down, gaining his attention as you did so.

“You know you’ve missed a date before too,” you said, your voice wavering slightly. He just didn’t realize how hurtful this was to you, for him to keep attacking you over something he’d previously done and you’d forgiven him for.

“Does our sixth month anniversary ring a bell to you at all?” you asked, biting your tongue hard for a moment to stop any tears from falling. “Remember how we had the entire night planned, both of us were off, we were going to meet at that beautiful garden and eat packed dinners there and walk and watch the sunset? Remember how I sat there for four hours by myself, sitting on a park bench watching all the other couples walk hand in hand while I held the basket with our food as it got cold? Remember how you sent me that text. ‘Please don’t be mad, but there was an amazing new bar and restaurant opening that I went to check out with the boys and lost track of time.’ I forgave you for that Jackson. I told you it was okay, I understood, and yet here you are harassing me and telling me how horrible I am for having fallen asleep. For being unconscious and forgotten our date, yet you were fully aware and conscious when you blew me off,” you finally breath out, proud of yourself for refusing to let any tears fall.

“You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?” and with a sharp turn of your heel you leave the room and make your way back up the stairs.

Nestled back in the warmth of your guys’ bed you finally let a few of the tears fall from your eyes. The bitterness of that memory having wiped you clean of your energy. All you wanted and needed was for Jackson to listen to you, to understand where you were coming from and try and listen to your side, and yet he was so damn hard to talk to half the time.

About a half hour after you’d left him there the door slowly opened, this time the floor being graced with quiet footsteps as you heard the sound of a zipper and fabric hitting the floor. Once he was undressed he slowly and cautiously crawled into the bed behind you. Despite not being able to see him you could tell that he was contemplating whether or not he should reach out and touch you.

“[Y/N]…I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of the things I said. I guess I just got so upset when you didn’t make it, and my head was picturing so many different things that even when I realized why you had missed, I’d worked myself up too much to turn back,” he said quietly, his fingertips finally tentatively touching your shoulder. “Please Jagiya, I don’t know what this is but my chest hurts so bad…please just look at me.”

Drawing in a deep breath, you rolled over, looking him in the eyes, “I think what you’re feeling is called guilt.”

Scooting the last couple inches, you allow him to envelop you into his arms, a sigh leaving both of your lips as you finally receive the contact you needed from the other. “I would never hurt you on purpose Jackson,” you whisper to him, kissing his chest as you hold onto him, his grip getting tighter as you do so. “And I’m sorry for the times I’ve already hurt you,” he says, kissing the crown of your head.

“I don’t want to fight anymore tonight…I just want you to hold me.”

Written by Kendal from passionate-noona (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

I am actually okay with how I look right now as I know my face will become more feminine and my hair will grow much longer. Even though I don’t consider myself too beautiful, I guess I do look feminine by now so I won’t suffer from dysphoria much more, except in school where everyone knows about me. Also, I think that some cis people think being trans is about looking as beautiful as possible, which is not the fact. Being trans is not about posting selfies to make someone think you’re beautiful. In fact, it’s all about how the person feels. If they need appreciation, that’s alright. If they want to be perceived feminine, let them make pictures of themselves… I feel like many cis people consider this an exhibition thing, which it isn’t. A lot of lgbt people suffer from dysphoria and just want to feel valid. By now, I have learned that I should not care about the opinion of any person I don’t know who thinks I am “not a real girl” or “just a guy” or anything.
Like, all I want to say is that being trans is such a personal thing and it’s not all about looking good but about feeling so.


It’s that time of the year again where I make one of these things that shows my art since the very beginning.

6 years now of me drawing, wow, it feels so long but so short too. I wonder where I’ll be 6 years in the future, hopefully somewhere awesome! I just finished another semester of college, and I learned so much about myself in these short months. I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere, building something rather than just making pictures.

I’m quite excited to see where my new ideas take me, I’ve never felt so proud of myself before. So many things happened this year, I’m super grateful towards everyone who supported me, and helped me get to where I am. Nearly 28,000 followers, that’s amazing!!

Thank you for an awesome year, let’s make 2017 even better!!!

boycub  asked:

would it be possible that you could do a tiny expression tutorial because your characters convey emotions so well and id be super interesting in learning a few things from you

Anything I could show you has been already drawn, I think. There’s a tutorial I’ve seen some months ago but I can’t seem to find it. (Will link it if I ever come across it again.)
For the REAL basics you should read Preston Blair’s Animation book which contains the very minimum you need to know about shapes, action lines, expressions, etc. (The scan is pretty bad but you get the idea.)
I really like lackadaisycats’s expression tutorial, too. It’s a great, compact guide and it also mentions my big pet-peeves: side-mouths, same-facing and generic anime expressions (especially for western style characters, eugh).
And of course don’t forget to draw a lot of life studies of others and of yourself. People tend to draw characters that look like themselves and that’s fine, we’re all different and that will make your characters look unique. I use my own expressions for Buttons all the time. Sometimes I take pictures of myself and exaggerate my own expression using his proportions. The point is not to copy blatantly but try to notice the little details that make the expression instead. If you try making faces in the mirror you will find they look a lot different from what you THINK you’re doing so when it comes to drawing expressions you kinda want to mix the real thing with how you want it to “feel like”. (I can’t explain it much better than that, sorry.)
Oh yeah, and try to find pictures of others making the same faces, too. You’d be suprised how many kinds of different angry/hurt/happy/excited/etc. expressions there are! For Buttons I use Tim Roth’s expressions too and make little exercises.(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x) It has helped me A LOT in defining Buttons’ basic set of faces and his default expression.
Hope this was somewhat helpful!

i. I told you that I never liked hugs because I am an awkward person but yours will always be an exception. Nothing beats the idea of having your arms around me. Just yours.

ii. That afternoon you were mumbling about how much you hated your smile and I pretended that I didn’t hear you. But I actually heard everything and I wanted to tell you that you have the kind of smile that lights up the whole world. You light up my dim world.

iii. Last Friday we didn’t get to talk much and when we managed to get out of our tight schedules, you asked me if I missed you. I remember that I just gave you a smile and said, ‘I missed myself’ and I received a glare from you in reply. Honestly, I wanted to say that I missed you like hell.

iv. Each time I tell you that I am homesick, I’m not talking about my literal home. I’m talking about you. You are my home.

v. When you told me that he wanted to break up with you, I thought I would be happy but no, not at all. You bottled everything up and pretended that everything was okay. No matter how many times I asked, you told me that you’re fine, that you’re well. It broke my heart when I saw you acting like this.

vi. Three days ago you were really tired and you fell asleep in my car on the way to your home. I drove slower than usual just so I wouldn’t wake you up and I didn’t wake you up right away when we reached your place. Instead, I gazed at your sleeping face for a little while. You looked just like a child when you were asleep.

vii. You said that I was acting quite distant these days, and I told you that it’s because things were hectic on my side but that’s not really the case. I just don’t want to get too close you, you might find out about my feelings for you.

viii. I may complain when you start to spam my phone with your selfies and random pictures of things around you, but I actually love it. I love it so much.

ix. It was partially a lie when I told you that I had massive fun with my friends and family on my birthday. It wasn’t all that fun because you weren’t here. But you did make my day when you called to wish me.

x. I have so many things to tell you but I’ll cut them down to a sentence of 3 words: I love you.

—  L.W. // 10 Things You Didn’t Know And You Might Never Know

One of the things that’s always fucked me up has been the idea of time travel

I can’t comprehend it. I can picture and comprehend the possibility of many things..multiple dimensions, multiple versions of ourself, possibly even multiple timelines though that one’s hard

But in all of this I feel like time is going at the same time, and we couldn’t really alter it? It also seems too dangerous, though if we think about timelines, I suppose it’d make sense if somehow people in the future figured out how to alter things to prevent things from happening

It hurts my head to think about

i don’t know what love is, but for a long time i thought it was slamming doors and being a mess without someone who held my hand tight enough to break it. skinned knees and the funny things. blood and tears and our stupid rings. the tattoos that made me feel like we would permanently have each other. i thought it was yelling and screaming and crying. the sincerest sounding voice saying “please don’t go.” i thought it was the girl that always showed up at my doorstep after swearing for the third, the tenth, the twenty second time that she would never be back. i thought it was the we always seem to work it out’s. the we always will’s. i thought it was chasing after me in the street and cracked phone screens, the grip on my wrists, the shove to the gravel, again with the yelling, and the disturbance of peace calls made to the police.

“someone called the cops” “i’m sorry for yelling so loud” “it’s your fault” “i love you so much” “you wouldn’t be anything without me” “i loved you until you ruined yourself” “you know i didn’t mean that” “i don’t know what i’d do without you” “don’t ever leave me” “of course i mean the things i say” and my favorite: “i’m leaving”
the words so familiar, the words heard too many times.

cigarette butts and harsh texts and sweet words and make up sex.

i thought it was road trips and watching her sing to taylor on the radio from the passenger seat with a stupid smile on her face while she was pointing at me, the laughs, her tears, the years, camping trips, mix tapes, coming home to each other, painting our bedrooms, pictures, coffee and pancakes on Sunday’s, the every kind of kiss; the things that made me feel like it was worth it for the moments in between where i was ripped apart with words when the time came. the time always came. sitting on the bathroom floor, in the bathtub, with my face in the palm of my hand waiting for her to knock with that same hand, waiting for her to call with the other hand.

i thought love was the stitches she used to put back together my heart when i lost count of how many times she broke it. the stitches i needed when i made myself bleed. she stopped showing up at my door, she took the stitches with her. she told me she didn’t love me anymore. i came to my senses. she covered up her tattoo, i got more. i bought a sewing kit and i was never big on sewing. in fact, she was the one with all the scarfs, but i knew i had to learn how to put my heart back together somehow and i did. to this day there are still strings missing from the recovery. i don’t know what love is, but i know it isn’t the bad habits i picked up from my mom or her relationships with men that mirrored all the characteristics of someone i picked for myself. her. i picked her and who knows if any of it was what i deserved. love isn’t how badly i tried to give all my love to the next girl that came around. love isn’t the apologies i spat out to her that i was pathetically and previously fed. love isn’t the way i hurt her with no excuse and out of the pain i felt. love isn’t how much i tried and how much i gave to the wrong people. love was never a fucking fairytale for me. maybe it’s just vicious cycles or endless cycles. maybe i’m not the one to make these judgments at all. maybe it’s the way i learned to love myself when i was left alone; the way i had no other choice.

to the girl i love next: i shouldn’t have to ask you to love me as much as i love you because you will without hesitation. you’ll say that you don’t believe in “the one” but you’ll pick me and i think that’s what love is about. picking someone who builds you up without tearing you down tomorrow. i think it’s thinking about a song all day and turning on pandora and it’s the first song to play. it’s to me you mean everything and it’s the good and the bad things and i’ll stay’s even if it’s just the night, or the maybe we’re stuck for life’s. it’s the smiles and tears and yelling and coming home and the you’re annoying’s and we gotta be adults, but we don’t know how’s. it’s i’ll do the dishes even though i hate nothing more because i love nothing more than you. it’s some nights i don’t wanna be touched and some nights i’m more than needy. most importantly, it’s nothing without understanding. it’s everything in between.
it’s you’ve been knocking at my door for years now, but i’m glad i finally woke up to answer it.

i don’t know what love is.

Peppermint Mocha

Hiiii! It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything on here! I think I’m gonna put The One Where He Loves Her on hold because I have no idea how I want it to go or how I should start off from where I left off. I don’t know, send me ideas if you have any.

Anyway, here’s a little something for Christmas. I wrote this in one sitting, so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I don’t have time to proofread it.



All Y/n needed was a ride back to Los Angeles. At this point, she didn’t care how. It was December 23rd and she’d promised her family she would be home for Christmas Eve. Clearly, that was not happening.

“Oh, please, sir! It’s just *one* seat for *one* woman. Isn’t there anything you can do?” She begged the ticketing agent at the Heathrow airport.

“I’m sorry, miss, but it says here that all the seats are taken,” the man pointed at the computer screen in front of him, “but there is another plane leaving in four hours. There’s two seats left. Would you like one?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Great! That’ll be £6,750.”

“What? But the one that leaves in 20 minutes is just £2,500!” She nearly yelled.

“I’m sorry, but that’s all we have.”

This would be the third time Y/n would miss her chance to visit her family. Either she couldn’t get off work or simply just couldn’t afford a flight. This year, however, she tried to persuade her boss into allowing her to go on a holiday break. After a long speech —to which she had spent hours the night before trying to perfect— Victoria, her boss, had finally agreed to say yes if Y/n worked until the 23rd.

Now, here she was, trying to buy a ticket on the 23rd of December. Just three days before Christmas. She had realized then that she should’ve purchased the ticket online weeks ago. At least then she would have had a better chance of getting a seat.

After being told that there was no more room on the plane, for what felt like the tenth time, Y/n gave up trying and sat back on a row of uncomfortable chairs. She sank into the chair, fighting the urge to cry out of frustration and causing a scene.

Y/n dropped her head in her hands and bit back a few tears.

The next step is the worst. She would actually have to call her parents and telling them that, yet again, she wouldn’t make it home for the holidays for the third time in a row.

Y/n sighed, straightening out her back. She fished her phone out of her small purse and called the number the she had been dreading to bring bad news to. She pressed the phone to her ear and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for someone to reach the phone.

“Hello?” A warm voice answered.

“Mommy, I’m not gonna make.” Y/n ran her free hand through her hair.

“Again?” Her mother asked disappointedly.

“I’m really sorry, but they just ran out of tickets for the flight.”

“Y/n, this is the third time you’re missing Christmas! Everyone was so excited for you to come!”

“I was excited, too! I *really* wanted to be there with all of you! I miss you…” Y/n allowed the tears to flow.

“I miss you, too, lovely, we all do.”

As she ignored the people surrounding her, Y/n let out a quiet sob. “I haven’t seen you in three years.” She said as she felt some sit in the only empty seat next to her.

“Don’t cry, honey.” Her mom said, letting out a whimper. “I promise we’ll all save up for you to come next year.”

“Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby. Bye.”

“Bye.” Y/n said softly as the call came to an end.

As Y/n contemplated if she was ready to stand up and leave, she left the person next to her shuffle in their seat and carefully tap her shoulder. She wiped her tears and sniffled before looking at the man beside her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, slightly worried about the crying woman beside him.

“I mean, if you call losing my chance to see my family for the first time in three years okay… then, yes. I am okay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. My parents, sister, and her family are all in Los Angeles for Christmas and I was supposed to be there with them, but the couple in front of me got the last two tickets they had.” The concerned stranger shared with her.

She wasn’t going to lie, hearing that someone else wasn’t seeing them family on this glorious holiday made her feel a tiny bit better. She broke out a small sympathy smile and relaxed a bit.

“I’m sorry about that too.” Y/n sniffled for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“My name’s Harry, by the way.” He moved into an awkward position in his seat and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

“I’m Y/n.” She shook his hand slowly.

“I really hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but would you like to get some coffee with me? There’s a small cafe in here and I’m not busy at the moment. S'on me.” Harry hoped she’d say yes.

Now that he’d gotten to see her face properly, he thought she was incredibly beautiful — tears and all. It didn’t help that she was crying, too. It made him want to make her feel better. It had also seemed like she didn’t know who he was. It was perfect.

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loved his career and most of the things that came with it, but, sometimes, he just wanted to be normal and take a beautiful girl out coffee without cameramen following him around or people asking him to take pictures with him.

“Um, sure. You’re not going to kidnap me and kill me, are you?” She asked jokingly.

“Of course not,” Harry laughed, “there’s too many security guards in here.” He stood up.

Y/n giggled at that and stood up with him. “Alright, lead the way.”

They both arrived after a short walk to the cafe. Harry was oddly excited about having coffee with this girl. He had only just met her, but, by what she had told him about herself on the way there, she cute, funny, and kind. For example, when Harry asked her if she wanted him to carry her bag, she kindly declined and proceeded to ask him the appropriate amount of questions about himself.

“What would you fancy?” He asked her as they both looked up at the the menu board.

“A peppermint mocha, please.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and waited for the person in front of them to finish. He looked at Y/n and noticed she had a slight frown on her face.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little sad that I’m not seeing my family this year.” She answered.

As she talked, Harry noticed a younger boy behind Y/n quickly snapping a picture of the two of them. He refrained from rolling his eyes as to not appear rude to Y/n. He simply placed his hand shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look that was interrupted by the barista. The person in front of them had finished and it was now their turn to order.

“I’ll have two peppermint mochas, please.” Harry told the barista.

Y/n to get her wallet in her purse, but by the time she’d reached it, Harry had already swiped his credit card.

“Here,” Y/n handed him a £5 when they found a place to sit.

“What? No, no. Keep it. Said it was on me, didn’t I?” He said, pushing her hand away as he sat down.

“Are you sure?” She asked, uneasy.

Harry nodded in response.

“I talked quite a bit about myself on the way here, do you mind telling me about yourself?” Y/n asked.

“Sure,” he bit the inside of his cheek, “uh, I own a library downtown.” He lied.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Y/n smiled, “ I love libraries. They’re so calming and have such a lovely smell.”

It had been almost 3 hours since Y/n and Harry had started talking in the coffee shop inside the airport. Everything had been running smoothly. Harry had been making lies about himself.

Harry had gotten to know Y/n pretty good. She was 23 years old, she worked as an assistant to a CEO of a quickly rising company, her favorite color was rosewood, she had a small Maltese puppy named “Tybalt”, and she came from Los Ángeles when she was 18 for college —which she finished last year— and decided to stay when she was offered a job. He also learned that through the whole five years she’d been living there, she had only had three close friends due to her inability of trusting others.

Y/n thought she knew Harry. According to what he told her, he was 23 years old, owned a library in downtown London, he had sister named Gemma who was married and had a 2 year old daughter, he had three best friends who worked in the same street as him, and he was from Holmes Chapel —which Y/n had learned was up north— and came to London when he turned 20. He’d gotten his first job in London at the same library he owned now.

Y/n had thought all of this was true until someone came and made her believe otherwise.

The young, shy and very excited girl coming towards Y/n and Harry’s table in the corner was not making Y/n very comfortable to say the least.

“Em, hi… can I get a with you?” Y/n could only assumed she was asking Harry.

But why would someone want to take a picture with him? Sure, he was extremely good looking, but would someone really go up to a hot stranger and ask for a picture?

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows slightly in confusion when she saw Harry stand up and take a picture with the girl. She almost steamed I delight when Harry hugged her and afterwards told her that it was lovely meeting her and to have a good rest of her day.

Y/n gave Harry a “what-the-hell-was-that” look when he sat down.

Harry sighed deeply. “I… I lied.”

Y/n was still very confused. She remained with her brows furrowed and began to tilt her head slightly.

“I’m not who I said I was.” He looked down. “I don’t own a library and none of what I told you about me is true.”

“I don’t know what to say… Who are you? Why did that girl ask you for a picture?” She asked him, standing up.

“My name is Harry Styles and was in a boyband… One Direction. I sing on my own now.” He had only now. Begin to feel ashamed of himself. He didn’t even understand why he had lied about who he was. He should have just told her who he really was.

“Why did you lie to me?” She asked calmly, grabbing her things.

“Are you leaving?” Harry asked, standing up with her.

“Why did you lie to me?” She repeated, this time her voice cracked.

“I’m not sure why I did it. I know I shouldn’t have lied to you from the start, but I just thought you wouldn’t like the real me.” Harry stood in front of her and blocked her way out.

“That’s stupid and you shouldn’t had lied to me. Even after I just told you that I have trusting issues. Now, will you please excuse me? It’s getting late and I should really go home.”

“Let me make it up to you. Today I noticed what an incredibly kind person and I would hate to be the reason you’re unhappy.”

“I don’t know…” She said unsure.

“Please, I’ll take you on a proper date.”

“A date? I’ve only known you for a few hours.”

Harry stayed silent for a bit. “Yeah, a date.”

What is it like to be one of those people who gets emotionally attached too soon? Its like speaking to an old friend after many years and wiring yourself into thinking they are the thing you have been missing all this time when it’s really not the case. Its like the slight chance of a romantic relationship gets suddenly warped into “I have to make this person love me”. It’s like getting mad when they don’t text or call you when you only spoke to them once and they have no idea you could feel this way so soon. Its like feeling betrayed when they don’t like your picture on Instagram when they did with the previous post. It’s like reading love quotes on Tumblr and applying it to somebody you spoke to just less than 5 times. It’s not clingy. It’s not annoying. It’s not desperate. It’s just attachment. It’s hormones and chemicals. We go through life at a faster pace. We fall in love in minutes. We see the good in people before they see it in themselves. But we are the ones who get hurt. We are the ones wondering why we behave this way when we can’t help it. Why change it though? Shouldn’t we be the happy ones? The mature ones? The people in love? The people the broken hearted should desire to be with. We should.