I flip open the book in front of me and land on a picture of Peter Pan leading Wendy out her window to Neverland, which warms and breaks my heart at the same time. It reminds me of my childhood, and when I believed in shit like that. When I believed that when something goes wrong and the monsters decide to come for you, some fantastical imaginary friend from the box of VHS tapes under the tv would somehow just know that you were in trouble and would come to your rescue. It’s such a bitch when the day comes where you finally have to shed your fantasies, and no matter how long you try and put it off, you eventually and unfortunately have to grow up. Because after your teenage years start melting away, after all the beer bongs, backseats and premature broken hearts, life will inevitably start dragging you kicking and screaming headfirst into adulthood, and you have no say in the matter. There’s no rewind button, and you can only put yourself on pause for so long after the moment when you realize that your parents aren’t super heroes and that they aren’t always going to be there to fight your battles for you. There’s always going to be periods of time in life when it’s going to be just you, and that if you’re going to make it, you have to be your own hero within a reality that can be so hard to stomach. In my heart I know that nobody’s going to come rescue me from this, and that it really is all up to me. Nobody’s going to come for me in the way that I want them to. Nobody’s going to save me. So whatever, fuck it. I guess I’ll just do it myself. I’ll save me instead. But god fucking damn it, I wish he was real. I wish that I was someone’s Wendy Darling. I wish that someone braver and stronger than me would show up out of the blue and rush me off to the sky and to a place where I would be young forever. But it was in that moment, this moment, that I let the fantasies fade and accepted the reality that I’ve stumbled into, and that I will learn how to fight my monsters on my own if I have to. But if for whatever reason all our fantasies ever decide to switch places with our bitter realities, and it does actually fucking happen, if I ever break free from this rusty cage and fly, then so help me God, if you’re like me and you’re ever in trouble, expect me, because I will fucking come back for you. I promise.

I let out a melodramatic sigh and roll my eyes at myself and my constant stream of overly-analytical poetic thoughts. I stare at the picture for a few seconds, reluctantly pick up a green crayon off the table, and slowly begin adding color to the blank page.
—  An excerpt from Caged Boy Sings: the movie extravaganza.  Or maybe I meant to say book.  You’ll find out soon enough, but either way, it’s coming soon. 

Airglow ripples over Tibet

Why would the sky look like a giant target? Airglow. Following a giant thunderstorm over Bangladesh in late April, giant circular ripples of glowing air appeared over Tibet, China, as pictured above. The unusual pattern is created by atmospheric gravity waves, waves of alternating air pressure that can grow with height as the air thins, in this case about 90 kilometers up. Unlike auroras powered by collisions with energetic charged particles and seen at high latitudes, airglow is due to chemiluminescence, the production of light in a chemical reaction. More typically seen near the horizon, airglow keeps the night sky from ever being completely dark.

Image credit & copyright: Jeff Dai

RE: technology not being able to mix with magic-I know what the books say, but that’s such an archaic ideal to me. Witches and wizards are able to create spells that can kill, mend, grow, injure, restore, etc. but the idea of a muggleborn being able to use a cell phone in their dorm is pushing it? Maybe in the 1990’s when Harry was at Hogwarts that was acceptable because cell phones and the internet weren’t as prevalent so no one really tried, but you cannot convince me that this generation would not desperately try and find a way to make their beloved electronics work. And you DEFINITELY cannot convince me that not a one of them was smart enough to succeed.

So yes, there’s a Hufflepuff in the library right now waiting to help you send an “I made it” email to your nervous parents, who’ll be relieved you found a much faster (and less messy) way to reach them than by owl.

-Ashley 

Autumn.
Colours
Get warmer
As the weather gets colder,
And your eyes
Grow brighter
As the nights get darker.

You know
It gets colder
And darker
Than this.

Beauty fades-
But it’s here for now.
Just for now,
Until the leaves
Have stopped
Withering and
Falling down.
This is nature’s way
To let us know-
It’s okay to die
To be born
Again.

—  M.S.

Where do people get off complaining and leaving hateful reviews on fanfiction.

Seriously. 

Fanfiction is free entertainment.

Fanfiction writers do not get paid, and writing fanfiction takes a lot of time and effort. And it is just plain rude to make hateful comments about someone’s creative work.

Now constructive criticism is totally different. Constructive criticism is wonderful, it is how writers grow, but even then there is a way to put it diplomatically.

There is a difference between being rude and being constructive and I think a lot of reviewers don’t understand that difference. Either that or they are just jerks.

So seriously, if you don’t have anything nice or constructive to say about a fic, stop reading and don’t say anything at all.

anonymous said:

Just because someone else finds some topic important and you don't, doesn't give you the right to dismiss their concerns as pointless drama. And it being his birthday doesn't excuse his behavior or make him immune from criticism for one day or whatever.

It’s pointless drama in my opinion. There’s seriously no reason to make drama out of it. You guys find anything to get attention and start shit out of it. Mainly when it’s not your fight to began with. Seriously stop stepping into other people’s shit, let them deal with it. You guys are making it unnecessarily bigger than it has to be. I honestly don’t see him hurting anyone or being offensive, but apparently people like you make a big deal out of nothing. Seriously grow up. If you’re so angry at him or you’re starting to hate him, just ignore him and move on it’s not that hard. However you think you’re always “right" because you’re safe in your little home. This is NOT your fight.

You might think you’re all high and mighty because you’re sitting behind your computer screen and no one can attack you or see you, but it literally makes you nothing. Since you’re hiding behind anon it just makes it sad and pathetic in my book. How are you even going to survive the real world, when you take one little thing, even if it’s not your problem, and create a big show out of it. Once you finally step outside of your house because hun, outside there’s a lot of assholes and say worse things. You crying and whining about it isn’t going to change anything because people don’t give two fucks about it or you. Learn to not take things so personally.

anonymous said:

What's your favorite quotes?

The best way I can love you is by not losing myself in you, but growing with you.
- Navin E.

I am sad and have a passion for unknown, distant places. I want to see the world. And I would love it, if I just had the chance to get away for a little while. But sadly, things aren’t that easy; desire won’t change a thing.
- Abraham M. Alghanem, A Dying Flower

Jobs fill your pocket. Adventures fill your soul.
- Jaime Lyn Beatty

I’d rather be in the mountains thinking of God, than in church thinking about the mountains.
- John Muir

I am learning every day to allow the space between where I am and where I want to be to inspire me and not terrify me.
- Tracee Ellis Ross

My bro and I were talking this weekend about how it would be so awesome if there was a film that featured Sebastian Stan and Daniel Bruhl as long lost brothers who were adopted by different people so Sebastian grows up in america while Daniel grows up in Germany and they found each other and want to learn/catch up on each other’s lives. Sebastian’s character is the rough bad boy type who went to search for his brother on a whim because he wasn’t sure what to do with his life and Daniel’s character is the quiet type who gives his long lost brother the home he has always been craving for.

I want this film I want it.

What is happening? (⊙︿⊙)

The proposal was always going to be a spectacularly bad idea. 

Molly Hooper had been growing distant, no matter how many extravagant bunches of flowers Jim had delivered to her at work, nor evenings he spent with her cat in his lap, discussing the future of forensics or the last episode of fucking Glee. It had started after that day at the lab, his introduction to Sherlock Holmes. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but she’d most certainly been trying to avoid him. And when they were together, she looked at him just a little too closely, like she was trying to see through him. 

Jim didn’t like losing. It didn’t help that, upon sharing the issue with Sebastian, his sniper had laughed so hard that he’d almost snorted imported German beer through his nose, leaning back on the sofa and clutching his stomach. Jim had scowled, sat beside him with a bowl of expensive olives. 

He stood now, holding a ring box, the rock inside pathetically small, but believable for an ‘IT. Worker’ salary. He’d picked it out of a high street catalogue, for fuck sake. 

The water was running, and he could hear Sebastian singing quietly, like he did when he thought that no one was listening. Jim always listened. He liked his sniper’s voice. 

He had to tell him, he knew. If not only to brag that things were going better now, that he had confidence in the plan. But then again, he might try and stop him.. Sebastian wasn’t exactly keen on sharing, even if it was for a job, even if Jim assured him that it wasn’t actually.. him. 

He decided to take a calculated risk.

”..Seb..” He called, stretching out the vowel in a way that was sweetly innocent, suggesting that he might want something. The singing stopped, and rather suspiciously, Sebastian called back;

”..What have you done?”

Jim toed on his shoes. He straightened his suit jacket, pocketed the ring box. He braced one hand on the wall, ready to run. 

"I’m going out."

"Where are you going?" The words were still suspicious, and Jim could imagine him standing still beneath the water, eyes narrowed slightly, knowing that something was.. wrong. 

"To see Molly."

He eyed the front door, bracing himself, not letting Sebastian reply before adding a hasty; “..I’m proposing.”

-

Sebastian was out of the shower in a loud clatter of thundering feet, a hand on the door tearing off the lock, though Jim was already at the bottom of the stairs and racing for the door. Sebastian came chasing after him, and Jim cursed himself for choosing a restaurant that was so damned close to the flat. Molly had suggested it, unaware that Jim lived so close. Unaware that he had something planned.

Jim laughed a little breathlessly, ring box clasped in his hand as he swung through the restaurant doors, staggering to a stop, the maitre d and other diners looking around alarmedly. Jim cleared his throat, straightened his jacket, and sauntered to the desk.

"I’m meeting a Molly Hooper." He managed, trying to compose himself. Sebastian wouldn’t try anything here. By the time he’d had time to get dressed, put on shoes, the deed would be done - even if he’d seen where Jim had gone. 

"Of course, sir. This way."

The waitress lead him to a table in the back, like he’d requested - champagne on ice and dim lighting, and Molly Hooper was already sat there, looking rather nice in a black off the shoulder number, if Jim was allowed to say so. 

He smiled, nodding at the waitress and then taking his seat, kissing Molly’s hand with a nervous titter, falling easily into his Richard Brook. 

"I hope you haven’t been waiting long.." He fretted, dark eyes wide, and Molly laughed herself, quiet and shy, and shook her head.

"Oh - no.. not long at all. I think I must have only gotten here a minute or so before you did!"

"Great timing!" Jim complimented with a smile, and they both laughed, the picture sickeningly sweet. Molly reached across timidly, and rested a hand on Jim’s own. Perhaps this was salvagable after all then.. She’d almost certainly agree to marry him. 

The waitress approached to take their drink orders, and Jim looked up serenely - only for an ear splitting smash to disturb the peace, Molly screaming and the other diners leaping from their seats. 

Sebastian stood outside the shattered window, a gun hanging from his hand and his eyes dark enough to strike a kind of dizzying heat into Jim’s chest. 

He was completely naked. 

Jim got up slowly, a scowl beginning on his face, though Molly was clinging to him, trying to pull him towards the back of the restaurant, to hide from the gunman. He let her, angry at him, at his clear intention to ruin this mission. This mission that Jim had put blood, sweat and tears into. 

"Jim! Come on! Please, let’s move!" Molly pleaded, and those dark eyes fixed on him, Sebastian stepping inside, ignoring the screaming staff as they threatened to call the police, one man even frantically waving a fire extinguisher. 

He walked over slowly, holding Jim’s gaze, the shared stare burning. Molly continued to push Jim back, but he stopped allowing her to do so, going stiff. This mission was ruined. Sebastian had made sure of that. It would not go without punishment. 

"You." The sniper growled, and jabbed the gun in Jim’s direction. Eyes swivelled to him, terrified diners, staff and Molly. "Me. Home. Now." The gun was jabbed back at the window, and Molly gave a whimper of "..Jim?"

She was holding onto his arm, confused. 

Jim scowled, narrowing his eyes. “No.” He said stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest. 

"Jim." Sebastian clenched his teeth, those eyes dangerous. "Now." He ordered slowly. 

Jim tilted his nose into the air, looking away. He didn’t care if he was being petty. “..No.” He said simply. 

A beat passed.

And then.

"Right." 

The gun was tossed down with a clatter, hitting broken glass, and a few of the diners jumped at the sound, all watching intently as Sebastian marched towards Jim, and then rather unexpectedly sending a shoulder into his stomach, bending him double and then lifting him under an arm. 

Molly gasped, shouting Jim’s name, but Jim just wriggled, fucking mortified, kicking his legs and trying to hit out at his sniper, to no real effect. His shoes and fists met air, but when they met skin, Sebastian didn’t react. He gave an about turn, marching straight back out of the restaurant.

"Sebastian! You fucking let me down - you let me down, right now! I’m going to fucking kill you..-“

They were in the street now. Jim could hear anxious voices follow them from the restaurant, the wail of a siren in the distance. His heart thumped with a kind of excited thrum, though that indignant anger still burned in his chest, humiliated. But heat fizzled down into his stomach at Sebastian’s words, a low growl of a teasing threat.

”..You just wait until I get you home..”

An Open Letter to Frankie J. Grande

Dear Frankie J. Grande,

America hates you. Your fanbase of 12 year olds will all grow tired of you one day, leaving you with nothing but your aging skin and childish personality. Your Big Brother game sucked, and production did their very best to keep you. But no matter what, you’ll always be remembered for one thing. 

For being the worst Big Brother (including every international edition) houseguest to have existed.

Sincerely, c-altoru.

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