kelsyisme asked:

In regards to your feelings on Shakespeare, what do you think of Titus Andronicus. Because honestly it messed me up a lot when I had to read it. Even more so when I had to watch the adaption with Anthony Hopkins.

I think you can tell it’s one of the early plays. It’s like Shakespeare started off with a brief Tarantino phase and then found his own style. I kind of love Titus for exactly that reason, though—it’s like slasher Shakespeare. That being said, I can completely understand how it might fuck you up, because it comes with pretty much every trigger warning there is. So, public service announcement, before you read Titus, be aware that there’s rape, murder, mutilation, cannibalism, and pretty much any other crazy thing you can think of. 

anonymous asked:

Aah, these are so agonizingly wonderful~! Can I request Inigo for the dying in childbirth?

Inigo:  “Hey,” Inigo sits by your bedside with a strained smile. He’s shaking, but he’s still grinning as though he’s still the happiest man on earth. “Look what I made for you. It kept me busy. I think it’s nice though. Come on dear, won’t you look at it?” He’s dangling a little charm he made out of pressed flowers, but of course, you won’t budge. You’re gone, after all.

He doesn’t even know if he wants to see another flower again. There’ll be plenty on your casket after all. At that thought he has to press his fist against his mouth to stifle the sob he’s repressed for so long.

But, he knows you’ve loved his little creations so much. Maybe…maybe they’d help keep your memory around the house.

He goes over to the crib, and hooks around the little charm to decorate baby Morgan’s space. He’s sound asleep, unaware of anything that’s going around him.

Inigo feels jealous. Oh what would he give to go to sleep and never wake back up again.

But he’s always been there for those who needed him, and dammit, if he can survive against a dragon, he can raise a child.

“Time to smile, Inigo,” he tells himself, and his mouth forms an ugly grimace before he breaks down completely.

Islam is a religion of peace and of love. Two madmen should not represent all Muslims. We have nothing to do with that. My brother was a Muslim and he was killed by two terrorists, false Muslims.
—   Malek, the brother of Ahmed Merabet, the French cop killed Wednesday.

anonymous asked:

Oh wow, the dying in labor imagine is just *sobs*. Can I request Libra to be in it too? He always had that kind of melancholic air about him, right?


Libra: This must be yet another one of Naga’s trials…Libra tries to reason with himself. But haven’t you all had enough? Being separated, being without memory, going through all sorts of hell since either of you could remember. At least…at least what? He holds what he hoped was the start of a family, a family that he never had. He can feel his hopes and dreams being crushed all over. This child is a blessing, he tells himself. And a curse, the nastier half adds, but he dismisses the thought.  Can both Morgans…somehow fix this?

Oh why couldn’t he have died instead? He can’t even cry…he feels too numb and in shock.

To think, he’d lose his wife to childbirth…


I’m surprised that more people on Tumblr haven’t heard about this.

Elijah March, a 3-year-old boy from Toronto, wandered out of his family’s apartment in the middle of last night, wearing just a t-shirt, diaper, and boots. He was found by volunteer searchers around 6 hours after he had gone missing, but it was too late; he died in the hospital.

People are reaching out and offering condolences to the family on social media with the hashtags #PrayForElijah and #RIPElijah.

May this sweet little boy rest in piece, and may everyone hug their children a little tighter tonight.

anonymous asked:

Could you add Libra and/or Stahl to the dying labor please? If this hasn't already been asked that is

Stahl: Sobs wrack his body as he reads the letter that you’ve left behind for him. It rests in between Morgan’s blankets, in a way that ensures that had you survived, he would not have found it.

If you find this letter, than I’m probably gone by now. I’m so sorry, Stahl. I love you so much. I hope I told you enough.

They said I didn’t have a fighting chance. And I believed them.

Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you even let him say goodbye? Tears blur the ink as he finishes reading the rest of it. It’s quite long, and is a quarter the length of the one you left for your child.

He’s absentmindedly rocking the cradle as little Morgan cries into the night. There’s only so much comfort he can offer a child that somehow knows that someone dear is missing.

He’s sent the elder Morgan to find a wet nurse, and one of his comrades has stepped in to take the role.

He doesn’t know the first thing about being a father, and you’d assured him so damn confidently that you’d be together every step of the way.

So why is it that the bed you once warmed stays cold?