cosmokyrin:

When I get crazy with crossover AUs…… goodness-

RWBY/Monochrome and Frozen/Elsanna crossed over with the Akatsuki Arrival AU of VOCALOID/Negitoro XD

Akatsuki Arrival is sung by Hatsune Miku and Megurine Luka, telling stories of, well… rivals. The video/story contains sad; you have been warned.

——

Designing takes up lotsa brain energy bleh (especially Blake gdi)

IDK what the fashion of Negitoro is (I believe it’s baroque-inspired?), but Elsanna’s is Norwegian/Viking/Scandinavian, and Monochrome’s is Steampunk XD (tho supposedly it’s Steampunk Ninja alone but Weiss’ dress deviated from the theme haha)

//and hello bonus Elsa vs. Weiss, rapier vs rapier, ice vs ice. HAHA

BONUS: The fourth pair, the odd one out with regards to darkness, is me and my friend’s OCs — Marianne and Arenne (which spawned initially as Elsanna babies) So yeah since I love these two I included them as well. Cowboy/West-themed

tastefullyoffensive:

[piecomic]
(I work the floor at an independently-owned menswear store. The owner, my boss, spends a lot of time at the shop, and tries to keep prices as low as possible to help our city’s large homeless population get good job interview clothes. A clearly homeless man is wandering around the store. The other patrons are giving him looks.)
Customer: “Excuse me, sir?”
Me: “Yes, ma’am?”
Customer: “I think you may want to call security. That… bum over there, he keeps feeling the suits and muttering to himself. I’m just sure he’s planning to steal one.”
Me: “Well, ma’am, I think that’s quite unlikely.”
Customer: “Oh, come on, you know how they are! I mean, I’d keep an eye on him even if he wasn’t homeless!”
(The homeless man in question happens to be Hispanic.)
Me: “We don’t discriminate here, ma’am.”
Customer: “Well, I’m sure the owner would want to hear about this!”
(I give in and call him over. The customer explains her concerns. As a black man, my boss isn’t happy with her racism, but agrees to talk to the homeless man.)
Owner: “Excuse me, sir, are you finding what you need?”
Homeless Man: “Well, not really. I’m hoping for something versatile in a dark or navy wool, but most of the options in my size are cut American style instead of European, which fits me a little better. Not to mention they’re all pinstriped, which I really don’t have the build for, you know?”
Owner: “I… yes, I understand. I think we may have some options over here, if you’ll follow me. How did you know all that?”
Homeless Man: “Back before I lost my job, I used to be really into this stuff. I’m not looking for anything fancy, just something I can use to look good for a job interview later today.”
(My boss helps him find something he likes, and comes to the counter with him. The suit is priced at $87.)
Homeless Man: *digging in his pockets* “Hang on, I think I’ve got enough.”
Owner: *to me* “Take my card. I’m buying it for him.” *to the homeless man* “Here. The suit’s yours, on one condition. After your interview today, you come back and apply for a job here too. Got it?”
Homeless Man: “I… oh my God, thank you. Thank you so much.”
(Two years later, that formerly-homeless man is my manager, and has a little girl with his new wife—the owner’s sister.)

This is how you lose her.

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets.

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget.

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her.

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.

This Is How You Lose Her, Junot Diaz   (via blairwitchwaldorf)
elementary school: reads at a middle school level
middle school: reads at a high school level
high school: reads at a college level
college: re-reads Harry Potter
college: gay fanfiction all day long

nyannerz:

ive come here to receive a rub

Act my age?
What the fuck is that, “act my age”?
What do I care how old I am?
The Ocean is old as fuck.
It will still drown your ass with vigor.
(via ghosts)

aheroandasavior:

Why I love Tumblr + Smooth