I'm so done with these two


I will write a book one day about how I feel about every aspect of Emily Stone. She’s a full genius or she has found her genius and she’s given it so fully and beautifully. I think everyone who works with her, everyone who, you know, brushes shoulders with her or even kinda makes eye contact with her gets a shot of sunshine.

PTSD, The 100 and Me.

So I know the PTSD/manpain discussion has died down a bit, but last night, the reality of it came to my home and I feel compelled to say something, to reiterate from perhaps a new perspective. 

My husband is a veteran.  He did two tours in Afghanistan, served 5 years. Enlisted when he was 17.  He’s not very vocal about it, he’s not the person to brag about things like war or what he did.  But I have always been excessively proud of him and the courage he has.  

Thankfully, THANKFULLY, he left the military unscathed, both physically and mentally.  Aside from being hyperaware of certain things like exits and strangers, he does not suffer from PTSD.  But he is apart of a community where it is a huge problem.  More veterans die from suicide than combat casualties.  

And last night it came knocking on our door.  Or rather, in an urgent phone call. At 2:30am, my husband received a phone call from a former co-worker and casual friend.  This friend is also a veteran, and has been battling his PTSD for awhile now.  Tonight he was loosing that battle and was calling for help.  So of course, my husband rushes over there.  

His friend just moved into a new apartment.  He drank to excess and fell asleep.  When he woke, in a dark, foreign place, he had severe flash backs.  SEVERE flash backs.  To the point where he took his rifle (why he still has guns in the house, I don’t know) and “cleared” every room, looking for an enemy, looking for his team.  It took him hours, HOURS, to calm himself down to a point where he realized he was having a flashback.  That’s when he called my husband.  

The man’s wife had left him, he does not have many friends in the area and I honestly don’t know about his family.  The visit went alright, and when my husband left, he left knowing his friend was okay for the night.  

So I just need people to understand something.  PTSD is real.  It kills.  It tears apart lives and families and friends.  IT IS NOT MANPAIN.  ANY character who is shown to be suffering from PTSD should NEVER be invalidated, condemned or made fun of.  It’s outrageous.  Jasper’s abuse of alcohol?  His desire for escape?  His pushing away of his friends?  His suicidal tendencies?? These are not inaccuracies.  Everyone suffers differently.  


Check yourselves.  Educate yourselves.  

Oooooooh my god

So I go to leather and latte to get some required reading done for boys of leather book club and as I walk in I see two sexy bears sitting together talking. As I walk past they both look at me but I don’t think much of it. After I get my drink I notice one of them is sporting leather pants, knee high leather boots, suspenders, and a leather cap. Don’t know why I didn’t notice that before. So for the next like 15 minutes I discreetly stare at him like the creepy lustful loser that I am as the Bears split up and mr leather starts wandering around the store. Eventually he heads towards the door to leave and my brain goes ‘FUCK IT’ and I get up and follow him out (I tried to be discreet about it but I’m sure I failed) I ended up following him for half a block before I finally plucked up the nerve to call out a 'Hey!’ So he would stop. When I got to him I said 'I didn’t have a chance to say hi before you left.’ (Big fucking lie there) 'I like your leathers.’ That led to an introduction between the two of us and he gave me his Facebook so we could chat later. I still have an adrenaline high from it but I feel very accomplished. Slowly trying to beat my stupid shyness and social anxiety to the ground. Anyways that’s my embarrassing story I hope you enjoyed it.

Tldr: I overcame my social anxiety by stalking a leatherman

1D Hiatus: Day 225

* Niall tweets something really strange, then says it was “one of those pocket typing things …”

* Niall posts a selfie on Snapchat

* An extra from ‘Dunkirk’ talks about Harry being nicknamed ‘Harry-Boo’ when they were filming in Urk, because the ‘candy lady’ told the extras he was a Haribo lover

* Pictures of Harry with a fan in London two days ago comes out

* Niall meets fans in Ireland

* Louis follows the America’s Got Talent contestant Jayna Brown on Instagram

* Harry gets papped on the set of ‘Dunkirk’ in Dorset

* Louis’ friend Nizam posts a video of Louis and others in Vegas on Instagram

* Niall posts a picture on Instagram

* Pictures of Liam at a friend’s wedding in Portugal this past weekend come out

It’s Jul 25th, 2016.

So over the past two days I have been receiving rude anonymous messages from what I suspect to be the same Anon because of the frequency and whatnot. I ignored and deleted the first few messages that I received but after a while the messages continued and I stopped deleting them. Yesterday I received nine messages from this anon declaring their hate for Agent Carter and my wishes that the series be brought to Netflix. The messages are as follows.    

So I would like to address whoever has gone out of their way MULTIPLE TIMES to declare their hatred of my beloved show to me. I suspect that all of these messages are from the same person. First of all I cannot fathom why anyone would find this to be a reasonable or even remotely necessary thing for someone to do. I honestly can’t wrap my head around it. I received these messaged throughout the day instead of all at once so this means that this person came back to my inbox time and time again to express their feelings about Agent Carter. 

Now I’m not here to pick a fight. I’m not going to argue with what has been said in my ask box. While I am a firm believer that everyone is entitled to their own opinion I also believe that there is a time and a place for everything and for someone to go out of their way to declare their opinions to another in such a rude way in someone else’s inbox is not the time nor place to express those opinions. If there is something that you have an issue with I ask that you take it up with me privately. It is a very cowardly thing to hide behind the cover of the Anonymous option and send hate. I don’t believe that you would send these messages to me with your URL attached. (Please, correct me if I’m wrong..) And if you honestly feel the need to send a message anonymously because it is something that you do not wish to attach your name to because you do no wish to face the consequences of that message then you should not bother to send it at all. 

And the thing that confuses me so much about all of this is the point of it all. Like what did you possibly hope to achieve from this? Did you honestly think you could change my opinion? Did you think you could convince me to stop supporting the show? Please tell me what you were trying to accomplish here. Because I do not understand what you were going for at all. This pisspoor attempt at harassment was completely unnecessary waste of your time. There was no reason for you to go out of your way an leave rude messages in my (or anyone else’s) inboxes. And if you really feel the need to continue with this shit I ask that you reconsider your actions, log off and find a productive way to spend your time. 

Tumblr is not about spreading hate. And if you truly feel that you need to be rude to others then maybe this is not the place for you. There is no good reason to say something rude to someone else because of their fandom opinions. You may have not enjoyed Agent Carter, but I did. And I will continue to support it. No amount of anon hate is going to stop me either. If it bothers you so much you can unfollow me, blacklist the tags and get over it (to quote one of your earlier messages). There is absolutely no need to be rude to someone over a television show. 

So, Rude Anon, wherever you are, I wish you the best with your future endeavors as long as you take them away from my blog and my ask box. And I ask that you refrain from leaving these messages in anyone else’s ask box. No one should wake up to find a bunch of rude, faceless messages in their inbox. 

So, in all politeness, fuck off. 

I spent the last three days and the majority of the last two nights reading the raven cycle and now that I’m done you know what I wanna do? rEREAD ALL OF IT


Remember this? Yes, Makoto’s warm and beautiful home.

Now, please look at this picture and see the building ahead in Makoto’s direction.

Yes, we can see Makoto’s home from Haru’s place.

So if we add the fact that Haru’s room is on the second floor while I can’t help but wish that Makoto’s room is on the second floor too, isn’t that means Makoto and Haru can see each other from each other house? And if Makoto’s room is really on the second floor, Tamako’s and Mochizou’s classic rope telephones could happen too!

(ETA: check this out for more explanation about the houses.)

Now, regarding the phones… I accidentally found this from someone’s on my TL:

Now we all know that Makoto’s phone is based on the real phone too (remember Rei’s bag reference?), it’s Softbank Pantone Slide 825SH with green color.

So I tried to google it and now








Harry propped himself up on an elbow and reached over to tug Draco’s arm away from his face. “You know how I told you about my book?”

Draco frowned at him. “The one you’ve lent me?”

“Yes. I’ve read it hundreds of times. I probably know it better than my own face in the mirror. I know every character, every action, every line of dialogue. I know every dog-eared page, every crease in the spine, every fold in the cover.” Harry rolled onto Draco in one swift motion, pinning him to the bed, pressing his face so close to Draco’s that their noses brushed. “That’s how well I want to know your body. That’s how well I want to know you.”

Draco swallowed, his eyes big and dark and very close, and Harry could feel the words against his lips as he said, “That sounds as if it will take quite a long time.”

“I imagine it will,” Harry said. “Years, in fact.”

“Maybe even decades,” Draco said softly.

Harry hesitated, because he didn’t think they were just talking about sex anymore. “Maybe,” he said, and somehow kept his voice steady even though his pulse hammered through his veins. “Maybe it’ll take me the rest of my life.”

Draco kissed him hard.