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A of how I became an environmentalist.




I wish you a cup of hot coffee, sizzling plate desire, and a slice of success and a tribute to enjoy your day. Stay blessed. Good Monday morning! -fi


















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La espera siempre vale la pena cuando de amor se trata... 🥰 Finalmente tengo mi en mis manos 🥳🙌🏽 Gracias a y !!!










🌆ออกแบบเซ็กส์ได้เพื่อให้มีความสุขสนุกแบบกิจกรรมแต่ไม่มีความรักมาผูกมัดใดๆเพราะเราแค่สร้าง 🍓 ในรูปแบบที่เราต้องการขึ้นมาเติมเต็มความสุขเท่านั้น!แต่! ชีวิตจริง 🌄 ไม่ใช่ 🍓 เราถึงออกแบบเซ็กส์ไม่ได้ มันไม่มีในชีวิตจริง 💏💖💑







Aktuelles Aktien New York: Wenig Bewegung - Diverse Stimmungshemmer




A Of how Apples Become Cider Vinegar Is 🤯 Yeast eats sugar From the apple & turns it to Acetobacter eats alcohol From the yeast & turns it to vinegar Double fermentation For your &







Every story starts somewhere. Our story starts with a father journeying into the unknown in search of a better life for his family. Start reading Issue 1 today at




Neue Nachricht: Täuschungsmanöver: Emotet-Trojaner antwortet jetzt auf E-Mails



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2

summer fun

A girl left abandoned on the front step of a haunted house is raised by the ghosts inside it. When she is eleven years old, a notice for the demolition of the building is pinned on the outside of one of the windows. To save her family - whose souls would be scattered if the house they are tethered to was destroyed - she leaves the house for the first time to try and stop the demolition.

A new post, (A Mini-Memoir of Pastoral Burnout), is available at Eric Schumacher

“I didn’t want to preach. I didn’t want to pastor. I didn’t want to live.” A first-person mini-memoir of my season of pastoral burnout.

Admitting the truth

Hey everyone. My name is A- nevermind, let’s keep my name anonymous. My whole life I was a skinny girl, relatives used to say “wow! She’s so thin and tall!” My friends were no different, “omg how’re you so tall? How do you have abs?”

To be honest, I never understood what they were saying, until it started to become a good thing. They were “praising” me, “complimenting” me, and that became the most interesting thing about me. Not that fact that I was extremely athletic, ended up playing badmintion, track and throw ball, or learning new things at school, or even being a good artist, no, none of that mattered. All that mattered that I had to remain the “skinny tall girl” they met once a year.

I never really tried to fulfill their expectations of me, I didn’t care until I failed. Yes, I failed. 7th grade, I stopped playing sports and started dancing. I loved it, but my anxiety started to build up. I was scared to try new things. I ended up stopping dance by 10th grade. “Exam year,” I had to focus. So I tried. I ended up putting on 6 whole kgs that year. Went from 51-52kgs to 57kgs.

My dads sister came to visit one day. I walked into the living room cheery and the first thing she said to me was “you’ve put on weight” and I knew I had, but I wished no one else noticed. I still remember how I felt that very minute. I felt the heat rise up. I felt embarrassed. I felt bertrayed by my own body. I felt ugly. I shook it off and acted normal, but deep down it killed me.

That summer, my brother who always told me how skinny I was, said to me as I passed through a tiny space “you’re fat” and as I looked at him he began to laugh. One day we were to sit on a helicopter, thus they had to take our weight. It was cold so I ended up wearing layers and layers of clothes, this increasing my weight on the scale. My family had the papers where my weight was written. My cousin mistook my paper for her moms and said “mom! You weight __kgs?!” Everyone soon realised it was me who weighed that much, and my mum tried to cover up saying I’m wearing 2kgs worth of clothes.

The feeling never goes away. The urge to be thin again. The urge to feel pretty. I constantly full on my fat and wonder, “why me?” I constantly weigh myself hoping to loose suddenly become 50kgs, which would make me under my BMI, aka underweight (for my height 5’5). I’m not asking for much, just to feel pretty.

My friends constantly call me fat, comparing my arms to much shorter friends of mine, calling my face fat, calling my body fat, telling me to get off a table because I’m too fat. If I were to go to a professional as of now, I know they’d tell me not to lose weight, because my BMI is average, aka what it should be. But I don’t feel like that. I feel compared and imperfect. I feel flawed and damaged. I feel the need to feel pretty. I feel the need to feel.

I started starving myself and hurting my body. I felt fat, because I was told to feel fat. I felt ugly because I was told to feel ugly. I was a joke. I am a joke. But I’m determined not to be. A week ago I started off on a calorie deficiet diet, limiting myself to 1000 calories per day or less while working out. It isn’t working very fast for me, I’ve lost 1kg till now (56.2kg) and I know it not much but it made me happy. I feel better in my body. I’m still determined to lose at least 5 more kgs, but at least I’m not completely unhealthy.

No one’s going to end up seeing this, but I felt the need to be heard.


-Anonymous

The Reward

(( To The Vicar Goes the Spoils || Dark Reclamation  || Written with @thalsianiii))

Hearing the clicks of the tumbler, Cricket bolted and Cypris started awake. A flail of her hand quick to catch her plate from spilling from the table. With silent but quick steps, her uncut hand pulled a dagger  she’d hidden months back in the seat of the cushions. It wasn’t until the faint glow of the fires coals lit his garb and  the sound of his voice rang out that she realized it was Percival. The energy he had come with was different but the same.  

“You used the door?” She asked almost breathless as she stood behind him ready to maim if it had been an intruder. As reflex started to relax, her fists came down slowly, her stance easing, giving a toss of the smaller dagger to the table. In a single motion she waved a hand calling fire back to the coals. Stepping around well used to seeing his garb and mask, she moved to collect the plate and glass to return them to the kitchen.  In her still groggy state it hadn’t quite set in what he meant by worth it, “She proved useful then?”

“She was exactly what I needed,” he answered rather cryptically. He swiftly followed her into the kitchen and waited for Cypris to set the dishes down before grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. “I have a surprise for you. I hope you’ll like it.”

Her motions slowed as things started to fall into place.  Lips pulled into a grin as he spun her around. Honeyed hues looked over his raiment before coming to rest on the mask. “Why wouldn’t I like it? You know me better than anyone.” Her gaze held firm on the eyes of the mask as if they could see through, though he’d know well enough she couldn’t.

“This is true,” he whispered back. Slowly he brought a hand up to his mask. Gently he pulled it free so that it could be pulled away. But he held it between Cypris and him for a few moments. Almost hesitating as if to try and postpone the reveal. But reveal himself he did. Finally he pulled the mask aside and let it fall to the floor. 

Now he looked up at Cypris with those same icy blue eyes. But he looked nothing like the man she had met, loved, and married. He was young. Not quite as young as her, but young all the same. Dark black hair on his upper lip and chin matched the few rogue clumps of hair that spilled out from under his hood. He smile a white and healthy smile on a wrinkle free face. “I’m whole again. I’m me again.”

Her gaze held firm to the mask, she wasn’t in any rush for him to pull it away as the final pieces connected. For the briefest moment she seemed almost hesitant to see what lay beyond the mask.  As the mask feel away, rattling to the floor her eyes held firm to his, needing to see they were the same.  Only when she was sure did she dare let her gaze drift over the now youthful features. Shoulders slumped slightly, hands lifted letting her fingers caress over his cheeks. 

Once she remembered to breath a smile spread wide at her lips. “How do you feel?” She asked curious lilting her gaze up to his own. Her hands moving up, pressing the hood back.  The backs of a few fingers lingering lower along the hair at his  chin.

“Incredible,” he answered in a hushed tone. “Every ache is gone. I’m not winded after a walk up the hill. I can see better, hear better, even smell better. I got back everything I lost those years ago, plus interest. That Vicar was far more powerful than we might have thought. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have this gift." 

His hands reached up to cup her face and plant a kiss against her lips. "I love you so much. And now you’ll be stuck with me for many more years than we might have thought.” he added with a wink.

The smile on her lips widened as he  explained. Each a reassurance to what she’d held some concern for. The price for good things had always haunted her at least in some regard.  Before she could protest to the gift his lips caught hers in a kiss, one she was happy and eager to return. Her hands slipping to catch his collar while the other pressed through his hair to draw him closer still. Lost to the moment she hadn’t realized a pair of happy tears slid down her cheeks. Resting her brow to his, “And I love you, Percival.” Lips peeled back in a knowing grin, “You did say that we had an eternity together.” She noted teasingly  just before her lips sought his again.

“That I did. Now our Eternity just got a little longer,” he teased back. Knowing full well the oxymoron he had just put forth. “Cypris you have no idea how amazing this feels. How beautiful you look. How delicious you smell. It’s like for the past two years my senses have all been dulled and now the whole world is welcoming my return. It’s euphoric. I could… I could do anything!” he proclaimed. As if to prove his own statement, the warlock scooped up his wife in his arms up and off the ground and spun her around.

There were few things that made the woman blush but seeing Percival’s excitement at his new found youth and still hearing him speak of her in such a way had done it.  She knew much of the excitement she felt had been shared, their connection only seeming to amplify the effects.

Hands held tight where they could mindful of the spikes that garnered his raiment and mindful of the few stitches still holding her hand.  "How beautiful I look? Dove, May be fair to say you’re out of my league.“ The words cut short as she was soon lifted and twirled.

SIDE  B

Warnings:  gore, death, hard vore, vomit mentioned but not described

Word Count:  1000

[SIDE  A]


You’ve been waiting.

You don’t know how long you’ve been waiting, but you’ve been so, so patient.

Years? Decades? It’s irrelevant.

You didn’t hate them at first, oh no, you loved them. But you’ve been waiting for the storm for far too long, and you’re so, so angry now. They will pay.

Even if it’s not their fault.

You’ve felt it coming for days, and it’s just so exciting to think of where you’ll be when it hits. You hope there’s some poetic justice, you hope the first is one who deserves it. One of the ones you still love.

You hope they cry before you even touch them.

Keep reading

A Skip in Time: One Day Forward

So

Plan A was a failure. But good news! We know where the Witherstorm is headed. See, Plan B was in progress the whole time! Obviously there was blah for error, so just to be safe, I implanted a tracker in Green while he was unconscious. Simple yet effective! The rest of Plan B will follow after we stop by the Vault.

Gil is being properly taken care of,, the bullet didn’t hit anything vital, and it was just a messy scrape. He’s awake now, if you want to speak to him—

Riot and Yellow are doing a lot better, and are both almost fully recovered. Yellow’s still a bit achy in the neck but claims he’s alright,,

Olivia and Radar are plotting out a map following the Witherstorm’s Uboat from Green’s tracker. We’ll be able to follow that and I suppose— find the Witherstorm base!

Obviously we’re going to the Vault first, and we’ll spend some time there so everyone can recover— then Plan B begins! And hopefully this one goes a little better.

Yellow may have had a point—

The man who can be move

“Mencoba melangkah bayangmu melekat, mencoba beralih dirimu mengambil alih, mencoba jalan baru kamu temukan pendamping baru”

Ironis bukan ku kira aku bisa tanpamu, menyakinkan diri semua akan baik-baik saja, mencoba menguatkan diri dan berkata kepada diri sendiri bahwa:

“Pada awalnya memang sangat sulit melangkah, beralih dari tempat ternyaman dengan teman ternyaman kemudian di tinggalkan tanpa bisa berjuang”.

Seiring berjalan waktu aku mulai beralih mencoba dengan teman baru, melangkah selangkah demi selangkah, namun tetap saja ada yang mengganjal dihati karna bayangmu masih melekat didiriku. Dirimu masih tersimpan dihatiku. Ternyata aku tak bisa beralih, tak pernah bergerak dan tetap berada di tempat dimana kamu meninggalkan ku.

Masuk kedalam ilusi bahwa aku telah melangkah jauh menapaki jalan baru, yang nyatanya aku hanya berputar-putar ditempat yang sama.

Ilusi ini semakin nyata, bayang mu semakin menutupiku

“didetik aku terus berharap akan ada cahaya didetik berikut nya hujan badai turun menerpa”

Kamu telah menemukan seorang yang lebih baik dariku, sedangkan aku masih terdampar di tempat yang sama, terjebak dan tak dapat bergerak, berharap akan ada seorang membawa cahanya yang bisa menunjukan jalan, atau seseorang yang menuntunku keluar dari semua ilusi tentang mu.

archiveofourown.org
Spread Your Wings - imthederpyfox - Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 11/?
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Platonic Hank/Connor, platonic gavin/connor, platonic connor/connor
Characters: winged! Connor, Gavin Reed, Connor, RK800, Hank Anderson, policeman OC’s, filler characters, gavin’s cats, RK900
Additional Tags: Angst, RP, Roleplay fic, connor is an anxious mess, two connors, for now, Crime Scenes, Blood, Drinking, Smoking, Swearing, Violence, Pain, Unlikely Friendships, gavin’s not as bad as he looks, AU, Sort Of, Peaceful Route, After Ending, some fluff I guess, Collab, based off a roleplay
Series: Part 2 of Detroit: Become Human
Summary:

Gavin Reed hated androids. So how does he find himself looking after one when it turns up at his crime scene?

————

This is an RP between myself and ask-angel-rk800connor-au on tumblr ——> https://ask-angel-rk800connor-au.tumblr.com/

taglist - (let me know if you wanna be added)

@ask-angel-rk800connor-au @vampirzyca13