and i still can't answer properly

anonymous asked:

You're such a big ray of sunshine. To have an artist like you is such a blessing. (To be honest I followed you way back when and it was sad to see you gone) I saw you again by chance and I was wondering if you were the same artist as from before or not and you were!!!! I was so happy to find you again! And seeing how you are more active and just. You are great! Keep being you! Your comment about angst too is true, we need that cute fluff!!!! May happiness rain down on you!!!

I???? Wow I actually don’t know what to say, umm…….

Well first off, I really appreciate you being a long term follower of mine; it means a lot!! I apologize for leaving so suddenly back at that time, but I’m really glad to see that you found me again! I hope you enjoy your stay! Secondly, just know that seeing this made me really happy! You’re honestly too kind. I don’t think I can handle this?? I’m still pretty speechless actually…, but thank you so much for this! I hope happiness rains down on you too!!

10

Well yeah, Wendy would be the least suspected one of the bunch, that’s for sure

I swear I’m never wasting so much time on stupid comics again. Out of all the asks I could’ve used, I chose this one. Someone shoot me please .+:。(ノ・ω・’ )ノ゙

bonus:

how do you expect anyone to suspect her

cargopantsman  asked:

Figured this might be a bit specific for the Althing, so I'd throw this in an ask. I hope you, or anyone you know, have some spare words or resources on the Gullveig figure from Völuspá. Most of what I've found follows the "vague feminine entity = Freya" trend which seems unfulfilling and doesn't jive for me in this case. Been working my way through Rydberg's compelling arguments in "Teutonic Mythology," but hope there are other theories I can't dig up on my own. þökkum! (Thanks [i think...])

Velkominn, vinur minn,
(Welcome, my friend,)

I MUST SAY that this is a huge topic, and it is one that I feel unworthy, or rather unprepared, to take on. It has also taken me several attempts to properly answer it. As a historian, I study aspects of Icelandic law and society, not mythology; I am far more familiar with the sagas of men, rather than the sagas of gods. I am well-acquainted with the lore, of course, but not nearly to the extent of others.

Still, I have read the words of a few others who have pondered this problem. @thorraborinn has made at least two posts regarding this debate (here and here), both of which I have carefully read through and put much thought into. I have also read a bit of John Lindow’s Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs and H.R. Ellis Davidson’s Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. I have even considered the footnotes of translators Carolyne Larrington and Lee M. Hollander.

Now, I do not have nearly the same familiarity with the subject as they do, but I will still do my best to place my thoughts and impressions on the table for discussion. I just hope that I do not error along the way, and may I request forgiveness and patience from others if I do manage wander astray. With that said, I shall continue, and so here is the text in question for us to review before and while we discuss this matter:

22. “She remembers the first war in the world,
when they stuck Gullveig with spears
and in the High-One’s hall they burned her;
three times they burned her, three times she was reborn,
over and over, yet she lives still.”

23. “Bright One they called her, wherever she came to houses,
the seer with pleasing prophecies, she practiced spirit-magic;
she knew seid, seid she performed as she liked,
she was always a wicked woman’s favorite.”

24. “Then all the Powers went to the thrones of fate,
the sacrosanct gods, and considered this:
whether the Æsir should yield tribute
or whether all the gods should share sacrificial feasts.”

25. “Odin hurled the spear, sped it into the host;
that was war still, the first in the world;
the wooden rampart of the Æsir stronghold was wrecked;
the Vanir, with a war-spell, kept on trampling the plain.”(1)


WITH SO FEW WORDS to work from, our troubles are many. As Thorraborinn has said, gold meant many things to the Norse, especially given that they saw the world through a different cultural lens than we currently hold today. He also mentioned the problem of the name Heiðr (translated as ‘Bright One’ above), which is often attributed to many other vǫlur (sg. vǫlva). Furthermore, as also noted by Thorraborinn, there is the issue of seiðr being the only quality beyond gold to define who Gullveig is.

After all my reading, most of the interpretations put forth have chosen to merge Gullveig and Freyja, for there are many parallels that can be drawn. I have a feeling that this is due to the limitations of our material, because we simply do not have enough to safely pull the two apart; Freyja is the only figure whom we are able to evaluate Gullvieg against. She is the standard upon which we can base our conclusions, but even then there is more to be desired. Perhaps the problem is that we are always left comparing Gullveig to Freyja, when we may be able to see more clearly by treating Gullveig alone. Who is she, why did she come to Æsir, and why did the Vanir go to war over her? The problem in answering these questions, though, is that we have no evidence when we do not use Freyja as a basis; we only have an argument of logic and plausibility.

Yet, I do have one thought to share, although it has little evidence to defend it (as well as having plenty of problems with it). Usually I make a great effort to provide various sources and notations, but I do not see that as being particularly helpful in this situation.

Let’s assume, despite the ‘evidence’ to say otherwise, that Gullveig is not Freyja. Instead, let’s say that Gullveig was a minor Van deity. Even Thorraborinn played with the thought of Gullveig being another daughter (or other degree of kin) of Njord’s, and this is not a heretical idea to ponder. After all, there were other Vanir beyond the later counted three among the Æsir. Time has unfortunately chosen to devour their names and memories. In better words than my own, “the most likely answer seems to be the vast assembly of gods of fertility from many different localities, or which a few names like Ing, Scyld, and Frodi have come down to us, while many more are utterly forgotten.”(2)

Thus, I suspect that Gullveig is a Van whose name has faded into a similar obscurity, and that we are now left here to our endless pondering as a result. I then believe that Gullveig’s roles were ‘transferred’ to Freyja after memory had confined the Vanir to the three that we all know. After all, Freyja’s ‘character’ is fairly complex; her realm is not flat, but multifaceted. She takes men from battle, she taught the Æsir seiðr, she is a goddess of female fertility, and even of love. The situation is similar to how Odin took over the role of ‘Warlord God’ from Tyr, who held such status in the time of the Romans (see Davidson for more on that, if you’d like). In other words, she is the Van who took on the roles of those who were slain by time. Now, perhaps I am utterly mistaken. I have no true evidence for such a claim, rather logical assumptions. My argument does not necessarily clear any gaps in the narrative, but it does serve to explain how we managed to find ourselves in such a mythological mess.

In the end, both sides of the debate are correct (assuming that my perspective on the matter has any grounds to actually stand upon). Gullveig is Freyja, or rather aspects of Gullveig came to make up Freyja in the minds of later authors as Gullveig’s presence continued to fade from memory. Yet, that also means that Gullveig is not Freyja. Gullveig was and is an independent entity that only later became merged with Freyja (where Gullveig was perhaps once a local, regionalized cult). Gullveig continued to live, and so did her power. Her power just came to be expressed through the surviving names of her kin, like the battle-victorious Freyja. Either way, the answer never seems to be very satisfying for us.


THAT IS ALL I CAN OFFER, at least for the moment. I am sure that my theories have plenty of holes in them. As I said before, I am no expert in this realm of understanding, and I therefore do not have the depth of familiarity with it to fill in the gaps of my own narrative. My words are not meant to be absolute. Rather, they are meant to enhance and encourage further contemplation and discussion. I do not expect to be ‘right’, yet I should not be condemned to utter falseness either.

Regardless, my words have not answered any of our missing details, such as how Freyja came to be among the Æsir (though, if the Vanir merged with the Æsir after the war, that alone would have provided the opportunity), nor why Gullveig is so strongly linked to gold (however ‘gold’ was being invoked here, that is). Answering those questioned requires substantial digging, which is something that I suspect others would be far better at than myself (especially since I am so often preoccupied with other aspects of the Norse realm).

Anyway, I will stop my rambling. If I don’t, I will never be able to answer because I always find something to edit, remove, or add. That said, this is not the most organized answer that I have ever produced, but I hope my various thoughts will spark some sort of intriguing discussion or other revelation down the road. If not, I just hope no ‘damage’ has been caused. I hope this is what you were looking for in asking me about this topic. I am terribly sorry that it took my so long to respond, but, as I mentioned earlier, it was quite difficult to manage. I just hope I have not erred too much in my ramblings.

Með vinsemd og virðingu,
(With friendliness and respect,)
Fjörn


ENDNOTES:
1. Carolyne Larrington trans., The Poetic Edda (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 6-7.
2. H.R. Ellis Davidson, Gods and Myths of Northern Europe (repr., 1964; London: Penguin Books, 1990), 124.


DISCLAIMER | ALL ASKSTOP ASKS

anonymous asked:

i figured out how to masturbate before i had actually had any sex ed at all and when i found out that the Cool Thing i had Discovered was Actually linked to s*x (through yahoo answers) i felt so profoundly disgusted by myself that i lost my ability to have orgasms properly. it has been several years and i still can't

This might be useless help, but you should talk to someone in real life about associating sex with shame if you want to fix that. It’s going to be a mental hurdle for you, but if you want it and you’re patient with yourself, it’ll be possible.

anonymous asked:

Bokuto+ Kuroo + Daichi + Akaashi hear their crush yelping from the bathroom bcs she almost fell due to the bathroom floor being slippery and they didnt even think before rushing to their aid and now they ended up being yelled at bcs they saw them naked* those funny cliches you know the drill xD

Hello I love cliches
Kinda strayed from the original since I don’t think Daichi and Akaashi would just burst in unannounced, but I tried to stick with it as best I could!!
Also assumed that if the signif is naked they just got out of the shower or something

Bokuto was up and running as soon as he heard his partner’s shriek. Without thinking, he flung open the bathroom door, worriedly (and loudly) asking if they were okay. They jumped at his sudden entrance, clinging to the sink for support, and Bokuto froze in horror, heat rising to his face. He couldn’t help it when his eyes quickly dropped down their figure, before he squeezed his eyes shut, sprinting back down the hall without shutting the door, shouting an apology behind him. Afterwards, they scolded him for not even knocking first, and he couldn’t do anything but apologise again and again.

Kuroo jumped in surprised after hearing their cry, already filled with worry as he rushed down the hall. He knocked on the door as he called out to them, not waiting for a response before he pulled it open. As soon as he realised his very big mistake, he shut the door as fast as he could, leaning back against it as he stuttered out his sorry with embarrassment. He accepted his later fate of being reprimanded by his crush, knowing he fully deserved it, but not being able to fully look them in the eye.

Once they shouted, Daichi didn’t hesitate to quickly make his way to the bathroom. Fidgeting outside, he could hear them muttering to themselves through the door. He asked what happened and if they hurt themselves, letting out a small sigh of relief when they sheepishly admitted they just slipped. He made a move to open the door, not registering his crush’s surprised cry until it was too late. It was an awkward stare off, both stuck in place, entire faces flushed red. They had barely covered themselves with a towel before he walked in. They scolded him as they shoved the door shut, pushing him back out into the hall. It was days before Daichi worked up the courage to even look at them again.

Akaashi was immediately concerned when he heard them cry out, but stayed a few moments to see if any other noises followed. When he heard nothing, he tentatively called out their name, walking toward the bathroom door as he did so. After he knocked and waited, they opened the door, towel wrapped around them as they assured him they were alright, just slipped, didn’t hurt anything but their dignity. He felt more at ease, but as they stepped back to close the door, they, again, slipped on the wet floor, towel falling down when they tried to balance themselves. Akaashi felt his face burn in the brief second he saw them uncovered, quickly covering his eyes, walking out and pulling the door closed, mumbling that they needed to be more careful.

anonymous asked:

NISSSSIIII, I found this one jikook fic thru ur blog but I can't seem to find it again it starts with jk running from the police (they thought he stole a watch?) and he runs into the cafe that jimin works at and orders something and jimins pissed bc jk still owed him money when he was arrested???

i recd it before somewhere and i cant find it anymore either i need a better tagging system sdjjsdfds the petty criminal discount by kingkiwi

anonymous asked:

I could read 10,000 more words of The Summer Palace and it would still not be enough. but also, I absolute LOVE every word in it. and I can't stop seeing Laurent's smile and just him being so happy

Anon, I’m just— SAME [insert heavy keysmashing here] I can’t properly word my thoughts about TSP through my EXTREMELY OVERLOADED EMOTIONS right now, so here, have a full load of my favorite quotes from my first reading of the story this morning:


@ jesus: take the wheel please

@capsing i’m sorry somehow the dumb me maneged to deleted your ask by accident take tumblr away from I gonna make it explode so here is what I was going to answer!!

Thank you dear!! All of us are going to miss you and your awesome analysis here!! I’m forever grateful to you for your real politik meta about cheerios!! it was incredible!!Again take care and have a good day♥♥♥ *stealthily hug you*

Originally posted by dennsokagi

Mom update- She’s home and comfortable! <3 There’s still no answers as to what happened, but they sent her home with meds and instructions to take it easy. Her appetite is… Mostly back, she never really eats that much to begin with, so-

I’m still teetering on the line of stressed and ‘can I just hide under this blanket forever plz’, but hoping things start getting easier now <3

Thank you guys for being here and your support. TwT It really means a lot to me- I love you all~


~Mun

'On your knees' - Liam

So this is a little gym smut that an anon requested. I hope you enjoy this. - Gee

‘Come on, you slacker!’ Liam sighed. You’d been shouting things at him, hoping to encourage him to pick up his pace. But it was actually getting to him, and annoying him in a way. He knew you meant well, but he wished you would just shut up.

'I am, just concentrate on your running.’ He grumbled.

'Look, fatty' you teased, 'you’re the one who hasn’t bothered to train since coming back off tour, so don’t huff at me when you feel podgy.'He snapped his head towards you, eyes narrowed, lips set in a firm line. Turning off the machine, he hopped off and walked to the direction of the changing rooms.

'See you when you’re done’ he muttered. 

'Li! I didn’t mean it babe! Come back, I was only joking!’ But your efforts fell on deaf ears, as he was out of the room, and leaving you in the gym by yourself. It was always quiet around seven o'clock. It was mainly just women using the spa and massage services. You sighed and checked the monitor on the machine. Just half a mile, and you would be done.

Your legs felt like jelly. You’d hammered the treadmill for the last half mile, trying to run out the feelings of guilt you had. You gathered that he would calm down whilst having a shower, and realise you were only joking. He never stayed mad at you for long. You slipped out of your sweaty gym gear and made your way to the showers. You were the only one in the changing room, so covering yourself up wasn’t necessary. You whistled your favourite song, before breaking out in to full sing-song, as you waited for the shower to heat up. 

Stepping in to the warm liquid, you eased up, your muscles relishing the warm feeling. Still singing away to your song, you didn’t hear the door to the changing rooms open. Your back was to your door as he pushed it open slowly, loving the view of your perfect backside shaking side to side as you sang. He cleared his throat and you jumped, spinning around to see him staring at you, with no sign of his earlier anger gone. His mouth was still set in a line, and he usually laughed or smiled when he caught you singing or dancing.

'What the fuck are you doing in here?’

'I see we still can’t keep control of our foul little mouth, princess.' Oh fuck, you thought. He was in his dominant mode. Sweet and caring Liam wouldn’t be back until he had gotten what he wanted. 'What do we do to girls who have a foul mouth?’ He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer. You mumbled out your response. 'I didn’t quite catch that. Louder’ he commanded.

'They get their foul mouths fucked.’ You spoke up, making sure to articulate every word properly. He smiled, a smile that could only be matched by the devil. His eyes glinted, dark orbs instead of a rich brown, and a growl escaping his mouth.

'On your knees, and mouth open for daddy.’ You did as you were told, staring up at him. You knew the routine, you’d done it plenty of times. There was the night when you got so drunk at dinner, that Liam had to carry you home. He had to wait until morning to punish you, but he did. He always stayed true to his word. He placed his hard cock onto your tongue, and waited for you to close your mouth around it. He moved, at such a vigorous pace, not putting himself fully in, until you were used to the tempo. Then he pushed himself all the way into your mouth, and down your throat. You splayed your hands across his thighs, hoping you could push him away, but he held himself still. 'No touching. Do you want me to get really rough?’ He asked, looking down at you.

Taking your hands away, you took your punishment like a good girl. 'Now, if you didn’t have such a smart mouth, you wouldn’t be on your knees like a dirty little whore now, would you?’ he said, thrusting himself in and out of your mouth. Pulling himself out, he palmed his cock in his hand. 'Turn around, hands to the wall. Stick that pretty little arse up in the air, daddy wants to see it all.’ Turning around, and making sure you were sturdy against the wall, you waited for his next move. Plunging himself all the way in, he started to move. He wasn’t waiting for you, he wanted his orgasm, and he wanted it now. 

'Look at your perfect arse, stuck up in the air for me. If we weren’t in a hurry, I’d fuck that too’ he chimed. He was panting, and driving in to you with such force, that your hands felt like they wouldn’t be able to keep you propped up against the wall much longer. He spanked your cheeks, and grabbed them, marking them, claiming his territory. Letting you know he wasn’t happy. His thrusts grew sloppier, and then it hit. The warm burst inside of you, filling you up. He groaned out, and gripped your arse, digging his fingernails in to the flesh, as he emptied himself in to you. He pulled out, and retrieved the towel he had slung over the door. You watched as he wrapped it around his waist, and turned back to you.

'You see princess? That’s what happens when foul mouthed little girls insult daddy. They’re denied their orgasms. Now get yourself dressed, you have a lot of making up to do at home.’