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01

Sep

aoba-sann:

LAST TIME I POST THIS I SWEAR I WENT THROUGH A MILD SCARE AND GOT WORRIED MY BLOG WOULD BE DELETED OVER SOMETHING SO SMALL. NEW RULES, MAKE SURE IF YOU SEE THE OLD ONE DO NOT REBLOG! PLEASE AND THANK YOU

DmmD Plushie Giveaway!

So for all of you who don’t already hate me for posting this three times now I GOT A NEW ONE! YAY, basically the same thing just ran a tad different

(I’m switching up the prizes I do apologize!)

WHAT YOU WILL WIN:

  • 1st Place: TWO Dmmd plushies as to ever fits your fancy!
  • 2nd place: ONE Dmmd Plushie as to who ever fits your fancy!

All plushies are available! Each ranging from 70-100 dollars! Each directly made from Nitroplus Chiral, you’re getting the real deal here man!
You can see what the plushies look like HERE

RULES:

  • YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE FOLLOWING ME
  • I WILL ONLY SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES
  • one reblog is one entry/one like is one entry NO MORE THAN THAT!
  • Must be willing to give me your address!
  • Must have messages open
  • do not reply in 24 hours I will pick a new winner|
  • no giveaway blogs
  • Winners will be chosen with a random generator!

THATS IT YOU GUYS I’m REALLY sorry about this! My old post WILL NOT COUNT, Make sure to STOP REBLOGGING IT for it is impossible for me to delete all traces of it!

END DATE WILL BE October 31st. Good luck and again, I DO APOLOGIZE for the nonsense

Any questions Ask me here!

31

Aug

lisola:

So uh…. it started as a rage doodle because my hands were shaking but somehow I just kept working on it and I didn’t even notice when my hands stopped shaking.
The rendering is halfway between proper and lazy as fuck, I didn’t really think much while drawing it haha. It’s kind of messy.
Oh and hey, long time no Karkles. I think? Can’t remember when I last drew him anyway.
Oh and I never thought I would say this, but I think I prefer my own scanner when it comes to scanning pencil drawings and sketches. Can’t figure out the settings on my school’s scanner haha

He has jeager eyes

lisola:

So uh…. it started as a rage doodle because my hands were shaking but somehow I just kept working on it and I didn’t even notice when my hands stopped shaking.

The rendering is halfway between proper and lazy as fuck, I didn’t really think much while drawing it haha. It’s kind of messy.

Oh and hey, long time no Karkles. I think? Can’t remember when I last drew him anyway.

Oh and I never thought I would say this, but I think I prefer my own scanner when it comes to scanning pencil drawings and sketches. Can’t figure out the settings on my school’s scanner haha

He has jeager eyes

reinerfubar:

ログ

29

Aug

Fuck nintendo for making a new portable consle already

I don’t think you understand I honestly think I could fap to the sole fact that oras is coming out soon

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eight years old, she’s got pink cheeks that her grandmother calls chubby. She wants a second cookie but her aunt says “you’ll get huge if you keep eating.” She wants a dress and the woman in the changing room says “she’ll probably need a large in that.” She wants to have dessert and her waiter says “After all that dinner you just had? You must be really hungry!” and her parents laugh.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eleven and she is picked second-to-last in gym class. She watches a cartoon and sees that everyone who is annoying is drawn with a big wide body, all sweaty and panting. At night she dreams she is swelling like the ocean over seabeds. When she wakes up, she skips school.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is thirteen and her friends are stick-thin ballerinas with valleys between their hipbones. She is instead developing the wide curves of her mother. She says she is thick but her friends argue that she’s “muscular” and for some reason this hurts worse than just admitting that she jiggles when she walks and she’ll never be a dancer. Eating seconds of anything feels like she’s breaking some unspoken rule. The word “indulgent” starts to go along with “food.”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fourteen and she has stopped drinking soda and juice because they bloat you. She always takes the stairs. She fidgets when she has to sit still. Whenever she goes out for ice cream, she leaves half at the bottom - but someone else always leaves more and she feels like she’s falling. She pretends to like salad more than she does. She feels eyes burrowing through her body while she eats lunch. Kate Moss tells her nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she just feels like she is wilting.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fifteen the first time her father says “you’re getting gaunt.” She rolls her eyes. She eats one meal a day but thinks she stays the same size. Every time she picks up a brownie she thinks of the people she sees on t.v. and every time she has cake, she thinks of the one million magazine articles on restricting calories. She used to have no idea a flat stomach was supposed to be beautiful until she saw advice on how to achieve it. She cuts back on everything. She controls. They tell her she’s getting too thin but she doesn’t believe it.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is sixteen and tearing herself into shreds in order for a thigh gap big enough to hush the screams in her head. She doesn’t “indulge,” ever. She can’t go out with friends, they expect her to eat. She damns her sweet tooth directly to hell. It’s coffee for breakfast and tea for lunch and if there’s dance that evening, two cups of water and then maybe an apple. She lies all the time until she thinks the words will rot her teeth. She dreams about food when she sleeps. Her aunt begs her to eat anything, even just a small cookie. They say, “One bite won’t make you fat, will it, darling?”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is seventeen and too sick to go to prom because she can’t stand up for very long. She thinks she wouldn’t look good in a dress anyway. Her nails are blue and not because they are painted. Her hair is too thin to do anything with. She’s tired all the time and always distracted. She once absently mentions the caloric value of grapes to the boy she is with and he looks at her like she’s gone insane and in that moment she realizes most people don’t have numbers constantly scrolling in their heads. She swallows hard and tries to figure out where it all went wrong, why more than a granola bar for a meal makes her feel sick, why she tastes disease and courts with death. She misses sleep. She misses being able to dream. She misses being herself instead of just being empty.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is twenty and writes poetry and is a healthy weight and still fights down the voices every single day. She puts food in her mouth and sometimes cries about it but more and more often feels good, feels balanced. Her cheeks are pink and they are chubby and soft and no longer growing slight fur. Her hair is long and it is beautiful. She still picks herself apart in the mirror, but she’s starting to get better about it. She wears the dress she likes even if it only fits her in a large and she doesn’t feel like a failure for it. She is falling in love with the fat on her hips.

She is eating out with friends and not worrying about finding the lowest calorie item on the menu when she hears a mother tell her four year old daughter “You can’t have ice cream, we just had dinner.
You don’t want to end up as a fat little girl.”

Why do we constantly do this to our children? /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

This is heartbreaking

(via emsfitjourney)

whiskeydrinking-operating:

This is Chester. When I was in Afghanistan I got a care package from one of those “Adopt a Soldier” programs that lets families send care packages to service men and women who are deployed overseas. Anyway, I got this care package, and it came with the usual stuff: Baby wipes, crackers, peanut butter, the Dad threw in a pack of cigarettes, and there was some jerky. But there was also a little beanie baby gold fish and a hand written note from a 7 year old girl that said  “Dear Soldier, (I wasn’t even mad) I hope you are doing well. I’m sorry you have to miss thanksgiving with your family. This is my friend Chester. He keeps me safe from monsters, but I think you need him more than I do. I hope he keeps you safe from the monsters you’re fighting. Take good care of him for me”.
You bet your ass that little fish was in my pocket every time I went on patrol.

whiskeydrinking-operating:

This is Chester. When I was in Afghanistan I got a care package from one of those “Adopt a Soldier” programs that lets families send care packages to service men and women who are deployed overseas. Anyway, I got this care package, and it came with the usual stuff: Baby wipes, crackers, peanut butter, the Dad threw in a pack of cigarettes, and there was some jerky. But there was also a little beanie baby gold fish and a hand written note from a 7 year old girl that said
“Dear Soldier, (I wasn’t even mad)
I hope you are doing well. I’m sorry you have to miss thanksgiving with your family. This is my friend Chester. He keeps me safe from monsters, but I think you need him more than I do. I hope he keeps you safe from the monsters you’re fighting. Take good care of him for me”.

You bet your ass that little fish was in my pocket every time I went on patrol.

(Source: never-let--it-die)

28

Aug

Omg look at my pencil

Omg look at my pencil

27

Aug

I think some ungodly force is trying to bring me and my ex-boyfriend back together