weight of objects

Pendulum 101

Alright, pals! Time to learn all about pendulum divination!

Strengths:
-Pendulums are best known for their ability to give quick yes/no answers! -Pendulums are don’t cost a lot of money and are easy to make.
-Pendulums are very easy to pick up and learn quickly… no extensive training needed!

Weaknesses:
-Pendulums require a steady hand, which some people struggle with.
-Pendulums don’t provide in-depth information, just surface-level answers.

How To Do It:
-First, set up a pendulum board. This can be a set board or cloth, or you can scribble it down on an index card. It’s traditionally two perpendicular lines, one for yes and one for no. Other things can be added as well! (Many people include a “Maybe,” “Rephrase the question,” add a circle of numbers or letters, even zodiac signs!)
-Grab your pendulum and “set” it to the board. (I usually do this by tapping each point on the board with the pendulum and saying, “yes, no, one, two,” whatever is appropriate.
-Give it a test run before asking the big questions. Ask it questions you already know, to make sure there isn’t anything interfering with the pendulum. Try to ask at least one yes and one no question!
-Ask your question out loud. Then wait. Eventually the pendulum will start swinging towards your answer!

How It Works:
There are a few different schools of thought, here. Some say your Higher Self guides the pendulum, others say that spirits do. Some say the pendulum itself has a consciousness! Other people attribute its movements to the ideomotor effect. Many skeptics will try to discredit it this way. My personal response? So what if it uses the effect? We all know your subconscious is wayyy smarter than your conscious, so you probably know the answer to your question deep in your gut, somewhere and just need to bring it to the surface. This idea only increases the validity of pendulum divination, in my eyes.

Tips:
-You don’t need a fancy crystal pendulum. Any weighted object on a string will do! This includes necklaces, keys on lanyards, a needle and thread, you get the idea.
-Pendulums are best used indoors in areas without drafts. These air movements could interfere with your reading!
-I find it better to weigh my yes/no questions as a positive affirmation. For example, “Jenny likes me.” The yes/no response here would be very clear, where as “Jenny doesn’t like me” raises questions. Is a “No” because the statement is incorrect, or no because she doesn’t like you? Affirmations also give you the added help of gut feeling. If you say, “Jenny likes me,” and your gut feeling makes it feel like a lie, that’s important information. (Remember your subconscious is smart!)
- If your pendulum is acting weird, try giving it a good cleanse! Sometimes they pick up “gunk” from extended use and get bogged down.
-Pendulums are very useful for contacting spirits! If you hold your pendulum still and call for a spirit, they can signal their presence by moving it. I prefer this over tarot because tarot always guarantees a response, whether a spirit is there or not. Pendulum, meanwhile, is better for confirming your answers are genuine.

If you’d like to see me do any other posts like this one, let me know! :)

Let’s Get Something Straight

Okay. Don’t get me wrong. I love me some high quality Langst as much as the next fan girl. But do you know what I don’t love?

This perpetuated narrative of Lance being kidnapped by Lotor only to be corrupted all because of a little validation.

Oh na, na, na, na, Batman. Ray Charles to that bull shit, and let me tell you why.

When people talk about the bedroom scene, I think more often than not we look over the most amazing part of it. Yeah, sure, on a subconscious level, Lance was probably seeking some sort of validation, but that was not his main objective when he went knock, knock, knocking on Keith’s door.

In Lance’s mind, he had objectively weighted his worth against his teammates and found himself lacking. but because of how much he cares about his team and what their trying to accomplish, he was willing to step aside. (His own emotions about the situation be damned)

“This isn’t a participation game.”

And you know what? This is in line with Lance’s character. He’s a ride or die, jump in front of a bullet, martyr till the death of him type of mother fucker. He’s consistently puts his own well being and insecurities aside daily.


Because that’s the thing about insecurities. As harsh as it sounds, their typically self centered. This is war, and Lance isn’t about to let his own self doubt get in the way of saving the day.

Realistically, if Lance were to be kidnapped by Lotor, he’d be much more likely to say something along the lines of: ‘You know, maybe I’m a burden to my friends, maybe they don’t need me, but you must be out of your God Damn Mind if you think I’m helping your villainous ass hurt the people I love. *spits on Lotor* Go ahead, kill me, I ain’t afraid to die. I’ve been ready for this shit since season one.’

Honestly, I’m surprised so many people think he would be that weak to his own insecurities when he’s never once been shown like that. If you love Lance, realize and appreciate that he would rather fly himself into the god damn sun before betraying his friends.

Originally posted by dondehaypelo

Imagine you work in a doll shop... (Part I)

Ever since you were young, you had always dreamed of having a large family- being constantly swollen and round with children, feeling them kick and tumble around inside you. There was only one problem: you were downright terrified of the pain that came with giving birth. Just the idea of feeling yourself be stretched so much was absolutely unbearable, to the point where you always made certain that your birth control prescription was met and your husband wore a condom every time the two of you had sex. However, as time went on, it was becoming gradually more apparent that your husband was getting frustrated with your unwillingness. He sat you down and had a long talk with you about epidurals and other painless birth options, but you wouldn’t hear any of it. There was always the off chance that it would hurt regardless, and that was something you just couldn’t risk. That same night, you both slept in different rooms. The next morning, while getting ready for work, you decided to check on your husband, who was still sound asleep on the couch. Even in his sleep, it was obvious that he was unhappy- his brow holding a slight furrow, his lips tightly pursed. At the sight, you felt a sudden pang of guilt. After all, it wasn’t his fault that you were so afraid of giving birth. And you knew how badly he wanted children. Later that morning, you quietly stepped into the shop, your hands trembling ever so slightly as you eased the door shut behind you. The sight you were met with was a comfortingly familiar one; dozens of painted faces perched above plastic bodies clothed in perfectly pleated, tightly laced dresses, bright, sparkling eyes framed by delicately curled hair in a variety of shades. There was no question that these were some of the most lifelike and realistic dolls made in the area, each roughly the same size as a toddler and weighing almost as much. You knew from firsthand experience just how heavy they were, given how many times you’d had to load them into boxes to be shipped, or had to stock the countless shelves with them. Moving past the dolls, you found your boss in the workroom, busy threading hair into the scalp of an unfinished doll. Mumbling a halfhearted greeting, you stepped past him to the sewing table, where you got to work hemming the dress that the semi-hairless doll was to wear. The longer you sewed, the more you let your mind wander, and the worse you felt about the fight you’d had with your significant other. The guilt must have eventually started to show on your face, as soon, your boss piped up, quietly mentioning that you had never been very good at hiding your feelings. With that, you broke down completely, clutching your face in your hands as you tearfully explained your predicament. More than anything, you wanted to get past your phobia of pregnancy, and give your husband the family that the two of you had wanted for so long. Your boss just sat there, listening, until finally, as you took a moment to blow your nose with a tissue, he spoke. “I would like to help you with that.” Those were words that simultaneously made you afraid and exhilarated. On one hand, you had no idea how he planned to help you. On the other, you were becoming so desperate that you were willing to try just about anything. Reluctantly, you nodded, relenting to his request. With a large, friendly smile, he stood, motioning for you to come over to the workbench he was using. Curiosity slowly began to seep into you as you yourself rose, joining him next to the table cluttered with tools. Quickly, your boss began clearing a large area of the wooden surface, leaving it all too available for whatever was going to happen next. “Sir? What’re you-” Before you could so much as finish your sentence, he shoved you down, trying to force you to lay flat on the workbench. Though he was an older man, you happened to be on the small side, meaning you no match for him. Still, you struggled and fought, trying to kick at him as he bound your wrists to the legs of the table, your arms tightly secured by two brightly colored strips of cloth. As you tried to tug your hands free, he took the opportunity to yank off the jeans you were wearing, quickly followed by your flimsy panties. As the cold air brushed against your nethers, it hit you: he was going to rape you. Tears filled your eyes for the second time that day as you stopped your struggling, going limp against the wood. Parting your lips, you let out a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t do this…” “I won’t harm you, dear. Though, I can’t promise that this isn’t going to hurt.” He almost sounded apologetic as he tied your ankles to the other two legs of the table, forcing your own legs to remain spread wide, bent upwards at the knees. What was he going to do to you? Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that you almost didn’t catch his murmured words of reassurance as something soft began caressing your folds. With a shudder, you realized that he was teasing your sex with his fingers. A soft gasp managed to escape you as he slipped one finger inside you, followed by another, and then another. It was uncomfortable at first, but your body quickly adjusted, your opening growing wet to accommodate the intrusion. As he pressed into your clit with his thumb, you let out your first moan, your chest beginning to heave as your breaths turned shallow and strained. You almost wanted to whine as he pulled back, wiping off his fingers with a cloth. You tried to lift your head to see what he was doing, but you couldn’t see past the workbench as your boss hunched over, pulling something out from a box underneath. However, as he stood back up, you could feel the color drain from your cheeks, your hands curling into shaking fists. In his hands was another doll, this one without a painted face, hair, or clothes. Cradled gently in his arms, it almost looked like a newborn infant, the kind you so desperately craved. With a sudden rush you felt the guilt flood back into you, that all-too-familiar feeling that had eaten away at your marriage. Consumed with emotion, you barely noticed as your boss stepped back over, lowering the doll towards your open legs. Without warning, you felt a sudden pain blossom in your sex, a sharp pinching sensation that wrenched a shriek from you. Your head snapped back up, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of the source of the unwelcome feeling. The sight that met your eyes was something that you had definitely not expected to see. Pushed brutally hard against your vulva was the head of the unfinished doll, your boss’s hands trying to force it in deeper- force it into your body. Before you could stop yourself, a string of panicked words tumbled out of your mouth, gradually increasing in pitch until they bordered on nothing more than a shriek. “NO! DON’T! PLEASE, OH GOD, IT’S NOT GOING TO FIT!” You desperately yanked and pulled at the bindings on your wrists, praying that somehow you could get free and put an end to this madness. Still, he persisted, continuing to press on the doll, putting his entire weight behind the single continuous shove. The stinging pain twisted itself into a deep, unbearable ache as the doll reached your pelvis, the plastic meeting a hole that was far too small for it to pass through. You could feel the entire weight of the object, ridiculously heavy and bulky as it somehow managed to slide deeper and deeper, working its way into your canal against all odds. Despite your pleas, he still continued to put that intolerable pressure on your body, determined to slide the doll into you. You had been lying there for what must have been an hour before you finally felt the doll reach its last obstacle: your cervix. The ache that you thought couldn’t get any worse tripled as hard plastic met the unweilding muscle, stubbornly trying to force it open. Your only relief was the series of screams that tore out of your throat, one after another until you were too hoarse to continue. Fresh tears trickled down across your face as the doll suddenly thrust deeper inside of you, into what could only be your womb. As you looked down, you could see the bulge in your lower stomach, signifying that the head had entered the deepest part of you at last. “Hush, dear. It’s almost over. The head was the difficult part.” His words did little to soothe you, and you clenched your teeth, letting out a hissing, forced breath as the rest of the doll was pushed into your abused uterus. You watched with disbelief as your belly grew before your eyes, plumping out into a round, pregnant sphere that rested heavily on your tiny frame. Though there wasn’t nearly as much pain as there was during the insertion, you still felt sore, and you were so incredibly full that you were sure you were about to burst. The doll took up every last inch of space in your swollen womb, stuffing you so large that you looked to be pregnant with at least twins. You groaned in relief as you felt your boss cut through the ties on your wrists. Freed at last, your hands flew to your massive tummy, experimentally poking and prodding at it. The bulge was utterly rock-hard, no doubt due to the doll within. Wincing, you tenderly rubbed the taut flesh. There was no possible way that your situation could get any worse. That was when he spoke, his own fingertips lightly brushing the surface of your belly. “You did so well, dear. I’ll let you rest for a bit, and then we can continue.” ———————————————————————————————

Hey, guys! You can call me Absinthe. Long-time lurker of the blog, finally decided to actually post something myself. Hope you enjoyed, and there should be a part 2 coming soon!            

Another Day of Applying my Full-Body-Weight Onto Objects (Snails, Shells, Plastic Cups, etc…) Mashing Them Fully… Oh oh oh oh OH I Simply Must Get a Taste of That Leftover Gogonut Milk…

STUMP! STUMP, I Holler Get Over Here My Squire Boy STUMP! You Had Better Not Be Trying to Ouroboros When I FORBADE YOU –

STUMP.

WELL WELL WELL STUMP YOU’VE EARNED YOURSELF ONE MONTH IN THE CARCER TULLIANUM! GET TO SLAPPING YOURSELF NOW!

The Witch’s Ex

Zack had been one of the star football players in his high school. It was pretty obvious that he’d also be going to college on a full ride. And then he’d go play professionally. The only problem was the fame went to his head and then his girlfriend he was with found out he was cheating. She was pretty pissed, and a witch. To everyone else it probably happened in an instant. But to Zack he could feel his power draining away from him. His huge, well-defined muscles slowly disappearing before his eyes. Everything about his life was changing. Playing football was just a thought in his mind. He was short and scrawny. No way someone his size could get tackled. At least not with a few broken bones.

She did him a service and told him where his muscles had gone. Room 213. Zack sprinted there as fast as his little legs would take him. He was completely out of breath as he was banging on the door. Peter finally answered, completely in the buff. Zack stared directly into his pecs.

“What’s wrong…” Peter started rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Get some clothes on,” Zack yelled at him. Peter looked down at his body confused.

“Oh Fuck!” he covered his mouth at the ‘naughty word’. “I mean fuck.” He couldn’t seem to correct himself.

“Whatever. You have to go convince my ex that you want to switch back. Get some clothes on.” Zack was going through his closest trying to find something that might fit his extra-large body.

Peter wasn’t paying attention though. He was too busy picking things up and putting them back down; testing the weight of various objects that should have been heavy to him. Then he picked up a towel and examined it. “I used to think this was big… Everything just feels so small now,” Peter said. Then he glanced down at himself. “Well not everything…”

Zack rolled his eyes. He was still pissed at the whole situation. But he wasn’t allowed to complain. That’s what the stupid witch said. Apparently when you cheat on a witch she has ways of getting back at you. “Don’t get used to it,” his voice was still cold.

“What do you mean?” he asked. It was such a weird situation. Zack had made fun of little Peter since high school. But now Peter was like twice Zack’s size. His ex must have felt sorry for Peter. Or it’s just to make Zack feel that much worse. Either way now Peter was an absolute hunk while Zack barely came up to his shoulders.

“You have to tell her that you don’t want to be that big. Then she might change me back,” Zack was more pissed that this guy didn’t have a single shirt larger than a small. There was no way he could leave like that. It’d barely even go below his barrel chest.

“What if I don’t want to change?”

“What.” Zack dropped everything and stomped over to Peter. He stared up at the huge guy in front of him. His tiny finger poked the massive man in the chest. “I don’t give a fuck what you want. You will tell her that you want to be the little faggot I know you are.”

“And if I don’t want to,” his voice turned cold as he dropped his towel. “Maybe I don’t want to be a little faggot.” Peter poked back at Zack. He almost lost his balance. “You always picked on me now I’m the bigger guy. You can’t force me to do what you want anymore.” Zack stood motionless for a second realizing that he didn’t have the weight to push someone else around.

“I’m sorry! Okay! Is that what you want to hear?” he was visibly nervous as the giant in front of him was starting to threaten him. “It’s just I can’t be like this. It’s not fair!”

“Not fair?” Peter laughed. “You think you treated me fairly?” He moved in even closer to his former bully. “I’m going to keep this. It’s mine now.” He flexed his body feeling the power through his defined muscles. There was a smirk on his face as different parts of his body bulged out. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed…”

“Noticed?” Zack squeaked.

Peter chuckled. “You mean you haven’t noticed?” He moved in even closer. “Think about it.” Zack looked up and down Peter’s body wondering just what it could be that he was supposed to notice. The large muscular body in front of him was huge. Now, Peter had these oversized strong muscles that could lift just about anything. The shaved skin looked so soft to the touch. All he wanted to do was reach out and grab onto those powerful arms, rub his face into those large deep pecs, and feel himself wrapped tightly as the little spoon while they slept.

Zack jumped back. “Sh-shiit…” he stuttered as his back hit the wall.

“So you did notice,” Peter smirked. “Don’t you just want to feel these?” He started rubbing his hand over his bicep. Flexing it, as he moved his hand over different parts. “I mean it’s right here. It’s not like I don’t know what you want to see,” his hands moved to his chest and abs. Slowing moving over the firm muscles. “Just come and feel it. I won’t mind.”

“Nu-Na-Nooo…” his voice couldn’t sound confident anymore. Blood was flowing from his brain to the rest of his body. “I- I—You—Yeah you’ve got… You’ve got to go tell Katie…” he licked his lips. “that…”

“That…” Peter’s smile grew even wider. He was mocking Zack. His massive body was slowly moving in on the former football star. “What should I go tell Katie?” He was almost on top of Zack. Staring at him with so much glee in his eyes. His voice went soft, “What should I tell Katie?”

Zack moaned. His body was refusing to listen. He knew he shouldn’t be here. But he wanted it so much. His hands were starting to move on their own. His voice shook as he was still trying to fight it. “That… You should tell her… Oh fuck…” he moaned louder as his hand caressed Peter’s hard nipple. His other hand was desperately trying to find something to grab onto.

Peter smiled as the other man was slowly losing himself. His logical side slowly changing its focus to the muscle bound hunk. Zack leaned his face against his heavy chest breathing in the masculine scent. Peter lowered himself to the other man. He spun the small weak body around. Zack let go of his shorts and they dropped to the floor. His scrawny body braced against the wall in front of him. Then Peter whispered in his ear, “How about I tell you something?”

“Wha-what did you want to tell me?” he sounded so innocent when he asked the question. The anticipation of Peter’s dick rubbing him was trying to send him over. Never would he have thought that he would want a dick up his ass so badly. He bit his lip trying not to come. He wanted to savor the feeling as Peter rubbed the pre against his tight hole.

“I’m the one who told Katie about your other girlfriend,” Peter whispered as he shoved his dick into Zack.

How to Work & Calibrate Your Pendulum

This is by no means an official guide. If anything this is just a way of letting you all know how I go about using my pendulum. I’m going to talk about calibration/establishing how I worked out what-means-what before I go into any methodology (I gathered my information from myriad sources and will list them if I can remember what/where they are).

Calibration/Figuring Out What Your Pendulum is Telling You:

Alright, so you might have a totally different way of doing this, but here’s mine!
Firstly, you need a pendulum. This may be obvious, but I’m just putting it out there. A pendulum can be any weighted object that is suspended from a chain or string or some kind. You’ll find that lots of people use crystals for pendulums as they work particularly well. I did not with my first pendulum (tragic side story: my Mama accidentally threw my guide sheet and pendulum away when cleaning - absolutely devastating). 
That being said, you do not have to use a crystal. As I mentioned, my first pendulum was in fact a small silver pendant that held a white and black pearl inside. It was hung on a slim silver chain that was 7″ in length. An effective pendulum should be something that is connected to you and only you as it will be imbued with your energies. Take care - do not allow others to handle your pendulum as it may alter the energies and therefore the accuracy and effectiveness of your tool.

Onto the actual subject of this post (I digress often, as you’ve probably noticed). “But, Rowan how do I even get started!?” I hear you cry. Well, my darlings, this is how I did it:

First things first, you’ll need a piece of paper, a pen, and a ruler (if you like your lines straight) and of course, your pendulum.
On the piece of paper, draw a circle as best as you can. It doesn’t have to be perfect but you can draw around a cup or mug if you like to get a nice round circle. Make sure the circle is big enough; I would recommend something akin to the size of the palm of your hand or bigger. 

Next, use a ruler to find the centre of your circle and mark it with a dot. Now draw a line horizontally through the dot. Do this vertically and diagonally so that you have a diagram like the one below. 

Once you’ve done this, sit down and breathe in and out deeply and calmly. It is time to prepare yourself for divining. 
Before every use of the pendulum, it is imperative (for me!) to be in a calm and serene state and to do this, I sit comfortably and close my eyes. I envision an aura of protective white light surrounding my body. Starting from my toes I let it envelope me and bathe me in warmth and spiritual energy. I visualize it travelling up through the crown chakra and into the third eye. This increases psychic and spiritual power.

The next thing you must do is a little strange sounding but important in this sort of work. You must tap a small circle counter-clockwise (the opposite direction in which a clock moves) around your thymus with your index finger (your thymus is just over an inch below the hollow between your collar bones on your chest). Doing this helps balance the energies within you.

This next part you will only have to do once, unless like me you lose your guide papers in an unfortunate cleaning mishap:

Now you need to establish the directions and what they mean. For example, which swing means yes? Which means no? Who knows? You will, in a minute.
Sit with the soles of your feet planted firmly on the ground and place the paper between your legs/feet and take the chain/thong/rope between your thumb and finger, or two fingers; have a loose but secure grip. Let the pendulum hang and make sure the point of it is above the centre of your circle - this is why the dot in the centre helps because it’s a larger focal point. 

To find your directions, you have to ask! Simple!
Say aloud: “Show me the ‘yes’ signal/sign”, and take note of the direction of the pendulum’s movement. Does it move clockwise? Counter clockwise? Swing side-to-side? Diagonally? Up and down? 
If the pendulum does not move, repeat your question. If, after say 5-10 minutes it shows no intention of going anywhere, move onto your next enquiry. Once you have identified your signal, claim it and confirm it by saying something along the lines of, “this is my signal for yes”.

Repeat this exact process for ‘no’, and then, ‘do not know’, ‘ask later’, ‘cannot say’ and ‘maybe’ or ‘sort of’. 

To further confirm that these are correct, test the pendulum by using statements that you know the answer to, for example, ‘my hair colour is ______’, or ‘my name is ______’. If your signals are right, the pendulum’s response will be yes or no depending on the statement you have made.

Once you are sure that you have calibrated your pendulum, make a note on your piece of paper regarding the directional signals. Note their meanings down. 

Once this is all done, you’re done! You can begin divining to your heart’s content! You can keep using your guiding circle for as long as you like, there is no harm or shame in it! I used mine for a while afterwards to keep myself calm and confident as I am still a baby at this sort of thing.

Good luck and happy witchcrafting!

“Seven years ago, when I co-curated an exhibition of works by Dionne Simpson, I was also recovering from Hodgkin’s disease. After the exhibition was over, Simpson gave me the most minimal of the works, and my favourite of her deconstructed canvases. Now, this piece hangs in my bedroom, and I wake up to it every morning - a daily reminder of the generosity of the human spirit, and the gems that await you after life’s struggles.”

Patricia Ritacca was photographed in Toronto on May 16th. You can follow her just-launched curatorial collective on Instagram.

Somehone Has To Do It

Somehone Has to Roll Full-Body-Weight Onto Objects Animals Rocks Toys Lessers Pressing Them Under Full-Body-Weight to Crush Them.

the Way the Sky’s Looking…

the Way the Wind’s Blowing…

It’s Gotta Be Me.

Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x reader (eventually)

Warnings: Language, violence, explosions, mean aliens, pie

A/N: I have no idea what come over me, or why I’m suddenly delving into the Marvel franchise headfirst. All I know, is this is pretty long, but then again, I did write it. I have no self-control, I swear. Enjoy!


Bucky.

“Barnes!” you gasp, lying flat on the ground where you’ve been thrown by the explosion of a nearby car. You’re really getting sick of being knocked around all the time, tossed through the air by some kind of freaking alien or asshole in a suit.

Keep reading

NDRV3 Girls - (S/o) being murdered in the killing game

Warning: This might get a little….gruesome, and maybe wAY a little more angsty than the boys version. Also thanks to Mod Kaito for giving me an idea for Angies one! - Mod Rantarou


Kaede Akamatsu:

  • She was just enjoying a meal with Maki when the announcement rang out:
  • a body had been found.
  • She felt her throat tighten, and suddenly she regrets eating.
  • After the two of them look for a little while, they find Rantarou, Ouma and Kiibo with shovels, staring at something on the ground.
  • When she gets a closer view, she finds it to be a dismembered hand, poking out from a small mound of dirt.
  • She almost empties her stomach right there and then, but she forces herself to calm down, for when you come along to see who had died.
  • The boys are still digging, and a few of the classmates had come along to witness.
  • She’s still looking at the entrance for you, filled with worry over reactions, when everyone gasps.
  • She turns to look, but for some reason Saihara is blocking her view, not allowing her to look, and everyones staring at her, shaking and tearing up.
  • She’s confused, and she’s scared and she just wants to be there for you, and she’s shouting, begging to see who died.
  • She knows its you before she spots your dismembered head.

Iruma Miu (TW: Suicide):

  • She was so stressed out, and so, so scared.
  • She was starting to lose sleep at night, though she hid it from everyone and you.
  • That wasn’t the only secret she was hiding behind her cheery facade, though.
  • She had been tampering with so many inventions, hiding them everywhere.
  • Most of the time, her tampering would just leave the machines in a broken, dangerous state but she was too hollow to care.
  • A small part of her knew that she left the machines there in case of the possibility that they did end her life.
  • You had started to notice how she seemed to lock herself in an empty room for hours on end, but no matter how hard you tried, she refused to let you in.
  • She didn’t want you to see how much of a mess she was, but, of course, you didn’t know.
  • She was making her way to the room, when she heard a sound of gears whirring, which made her heart stop, because
  • only the dangerous machines would make that noise when activated.
  • That was when she also realized: 
  • she had left the key in your room earlier that day.
  • The others find her body side by side with yours, one death an accident and one death on purpose.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

So I'm a fat trans guy. Before I had top surgery, one of my doctors had to make sure I knew the surgery wouldn't solve all my life problems. But he kinda gave me whiplash when he suggested I lose weight despite my objections that dieting doesn't work long-term. He scolded me, telling me to look at it as "lifestyle changes". But if losing breasts won't solve my problems, why will losing 20 lbs? It feels like a punishment when I want to try and be at peace with my own body.

So your surgeon was transphobic and fat phobic. Double yuck. I’m sorry you were subjected to that. It is so much harder to cope with bigotry when you are vulnerable… ya know, like when you are about to undergo surgery.

Your body is just fine the size that it is. You deserve to be at peace, and I hope you get there. 

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I’m teaching a summer #Animation Camp @lipscombuniversity for HS students. Today was the Flour sack animation assignment. This one was mine I did in class. The challenge is to create some personality and weight to your inanimate object. I used #TVPaint software- animated in an hour. #floursack #disney (at Lipscomb University Department of Visual Art)

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A PhD in Physics

Spoonies weigh everything. We are masters of the way things run, feel, and cost. I mean that in every way. We know the inner workings of our medical clinics and bodies like a draconian leader. We can feel the exact weight of how much an object is by looking at it, how much will it hurt to move, or fall into. There are a million variables. As Spoonies we are perpetual scientists constantly, hypothesizing, experimenting, measuring, and getting help from others to make sure that we are not alone. We are experts of the tiniest things. We know how much energy those things cost, how much pain they cause, how much stress they can bring. We are the chronically ill, quantum masters. It’s not easy, it’s life on hard mode - every day.

wait though

so wolfgang says this

ROCK = “Everyone watch! Wolfgang will deadlift!”,

wilson says this

GHOST = “I told you you couldn’t deadlift that boulder, %s. The numbers were all wrong.”,

so wolfgang went ‘WATCH ME PICK UP THE ROCK’ and wilson must have said ‘oh wait a minute’ and then he started doing math, and to do math on an island he must have built himself a tiny abacus out of sticks, or he’s just writing on the ground with a stick, and he does a bunch of calculations and probably gets them wrong 

even if he doesn’t get them wrong there is like no way to accurately measure the size/weight/volume of the objects involved (wolfgang and boulder) so what can he possibly calculate

but he pulls a number out of his ear and he says ‘wolfgang dont pick up the rock, the force/mass/weight/whatever ratio is off’ and wolfgang rightfully ignores him, picks up the rock- dies

wilson is like ‘should have listened to my tiny crappy stick abacus’

[The Celts] ride into the mock battle armed with helmets made of iron or brass and covered with gilding to attract the particular attention of the spectators. They have yellow plumes attached to the helmets, not to serve any other useful purpose than for display. They carry oblong shields, unlike the shields for a real battle but lighter in weight - the object of the exercise being smartness and display… and gaily decorated. Instead of breastplates, they wear tunics, made just like real breastplates, sometimes scarlet, sometimes purple, sometimes multi-colored. And they have hose, not loose like those in fashion among the Parthians and Armentians, but fitting close to the limbs.
—  Flavius Arrianus, about the Celtic cavalry tactics, during their training exercise