What was Ron's reaction that you two are together??
Draco: *bursts out laughing*
Harry: *sheepishly* Er… He was the one that caught us snogging actually… On the balcony at the NYE party where we first kissed? Yeah…he–
Draco: Shrieked like a banshee and nearly fainted.
Harry: *reluctant grin* Come on, give him some credit he was so great about it once– once the shock wore off.
Draco: No, I can imagine. You walk in on your best friend sucking face with someone who you thought belonged strictly in the ‘enemies club’–
Harry: You were hardly an enemy at that point, we all hung out together, didn’t we?
Draco: Oh please, the only reason Weasley didn’t hex me every time we met was, I’m sure, because Granger had forbidden him to.
Harry: Yeah, and you were just always so sweet to him?!
Draco: *grins* Goading Weasley is something that occurs naturally; I don’t actually do it with a lot of forethought.
Harry: *eye-roll* Anyway, after he got over the initial shock of it and then went on to realise that Draco and I were pretty darn serious about each other, Ron was very gracious about the whole thing. He even Owled Draco personally in a gesture of goodwill and asked to meet for drinks so they could start afresh.
Draco: His handwriting is atrocious; at first I thought he was asking to meet me by the sinks so he could impart his address.
First let me apologize for the delay in responding to the article written by Bernadette Giacomazzo. As some of you may have read on my blog, today was spent with a dear friend who suddenly lost her sister while speaking with her on the phone two days ago. I’m sure you can all understand that while responding to this as I said I would is important, my friend came first.
Earlier today, Bernadette and I engaged in a very civil, courteous conversation via Twitter. Some of you may have followed along, but for those that didn’t, let me fill you in. Last week an email claiming to be from a private investigator was sent to my former employer alleging that I had engaged in targeted harassment of Bernadette while on company time. The email said I had sent an email to Bernadette’s employer asking for her to be fired for writing an article regarding Sam and Cait. Let me state that I have not, nor would I ever, do such a thing. On my parents’ graves I did not write that email. I think doing such a thing reaches incredibly far over the line and is abhorrent. This was why I challenged Bernadette and her friend Vince DeMello, who was involved in this email being sent, about it. Both know my feelings and the facts regarding this email, so I don’t think rehashing it here serves any further purpose.
Over the course of many months it’s been clear that the relationship between myself and Bernadette has been contentious at best. At its worst, it was horrid. Today for some fortunate reason, we were able to put aside our differences and tempers and actually hear each other. Bernadette shared some very personal things, not just with me, but with the Twitterverse. I think it showed courage and strength. It gave me insight that I didn’t have before. That insight has allowed me to see that I have added to her pain and for that I am truly sorry. As Bernadette stated in her article, she has hit back hard at shippers many times, and some of us have hit just as hard in return. Myself included. We are human beings first, fans second, and while I can’t speak for anyone but myself, I know that I often forgot that. I reacted to attacks, mocking, and tattling. And while I may have felt I was doing right at the time, I now see I was part of the problem and not part of the solution. That’s not a feeling I enjoy. I doubt many of us do.
Bernadette and I reached an agreement today that we both will refrain from speaking about each other in any manner but peace. No more personal attacks, no more mocking or ridiculing the way either of us fan. Bernadette has agreed that she will allow shippers to fan the way they choose, and to let us ship Sam and Cait in peace. She is free to report about the Outlander show and Sam and Cait, or other cast members. But she will not write anymore articles discussing or defaming shippers for how they fan. Nor will she engage in or agree with anyone who does so. In short, that is off limits. I have agreed that I will refrain from attacks or mocking of non-shippers as well.
We both ask that our followers follow this example and cease these things immediately. I also ask any accounts engaging, either on Twitter or Instagram, in harassment of Sam, Cait, or anyone in their circle of friends to stop. It’s wrong and hurtful. As a gesture of goodwill, I ask that, in turn, all Twitter or Instagram accounts created to name and shame shippers be closed. This type of inflammatory online policing only serves to create dissension and contention. It serves no other purpose.
Now, I must clarify a comment made by Bernadette in her article. In her apology to myself, Sherri, Kim, and Nipuna, Bernadette stated that we are her mother’s age. Actually, we are very close in age to Bernadette. None of us are over 50. At the end of the day, all any of us wants and deserves is to feel that somehow, we matter to someone. We all have the right to be heard but we don’t always have to be screaming at one another. Sometimes we need to stop screaming so we can be heard. Sometimes we all need to be reminded that we need to give a little to gain a lot. My hope, and I think it’s Bernadette’s as well, is that we realize this and going forward, we learn to coexist with respect for each other and ourselves.
First: let yourself suffer, and let yourself cry, and let yourself feel the pain as deeply and thoroughly as it threatens to strike you. Let it be venomous. Then, slowly: start to heal. Start to look for new things. Recognize that love comes in several forms, and having experienced one you have not experienced them all. Spend time alone, and make time for your friends, try to meet as many people as you can; spend time with the love of books and art, spend time with the love of coffee and chocolate, spend time with the love of cities and the strange markings of humanity around them. Just take it easy and pay attention to your intuition, take time for yourself, be warm and ready for new experiences.
i don't know if this is appropriate for this blog at all, but i worked at a goodwill in the DFW area for a little over a year, and at one point we were donated a (obviously used) dildo AND fleshlight. together. and then for the rest of the day the employees (mostly middle aged and elderly ladies, aside from myself and a few other youngins) took turns passing them around to gross each other out. these are the things that happen in the back room of a goodwill.
“Good Christian people, I have come here to die, according to the law and thus yield myself to the will of the King, my Lord. And if ever in my life I did offend the King’s grace, then surely with my death I do now atone. I pray and beseech you all to pray for the life of the King, my sovereign Lord and yours who is one of the best princes of the Earth, who has always treated me so well. Where for I submit to death a goodwill, humbly asking for pardon from all the world. If anyone should take up my case, I ask them only to judge it kindly. Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, I heartily desire all of you to pray for me.”
How do i give up being little? I can't be little IRL and no daddy wants me and ny little side just can't have a place in my life any more Advice please
you talk about it like its some coat you give to goodwill…. but asking how you can give up being little is like deciding you dont want to exist anymore.
its impossible once you have become awakened and know your true self. your little side will always be there, frustrated.. crying out.. needing… hungering..
its the same reason why you are never satisfied in a vanilla relationship.
its the same reason why you are rarely impressed by a vanilla male.
its the same reason why you find yourself bored and anxious all the time.
you cant give up being little. you can certainly suppress it… you can attempt to ignore it. you can act like it doesnt exist… but its always going to agitate you and bother you to the point of dissatisfaction.
I do bid you good fortune with that… we will all still be here when you realize its a futile effort.
I had a lady come in and buy 98 freaking mason jars. They're a flat rate of 29 cents each. I checked her out no prob. She comes in an hour later with her 5 boxes of jars. Demands cash back (we only do credit) because I wrung her up for ONE extra jar. What kills me is that as soon as my manager counted every last jar and gave her the 29 cents I saw her take the jar she was hiding in her purse through the window
Wow! That was an amazing tale of cheapness! - The Horrors of Goodwill.
Prompt: A magical realism AU or a psychic/empath AU for any fandom? (I'm sorry I suck)
hhhhh i wish i could write magical realism but here we are with a psychic au
“Ciaossu,” an unfamiliar voice says, and Tsuna’s eyes slam shut.
brickwallvaultdoorcastlewithadragonbarbedwireimpassablemountains–he starts to visualize, reaching for any and all of the barriers he’s learned work to block out other people’s minds. He wasn’t expecting someone new, and his shields are like gossamer, letting him track his mother, touch the surface of her mind and find comfort.
If he can’t get his haphazard shields back up–
Finally, one image sticks. An opalescent sphere of pure energy, stolen wholesale from an anime, unfolds in his mind’s eye. Impenetrable, he tells it, protection. It shimmers, as if in response, and Tsuna opens his eyes.
A baby in a suit is looking at him, with a distinctly unchildlike expression. That would be shocking enough on its own, but Tsuna’s mouth drops open for an entirely different reason.
There’s no pressure on his hasty shield from this person. Just a sense of a chasm instead of a human, a void that is deep and dark and still, but, just maybe, not truly dangerous.
Reborn curses to himself as he takes in the heir to the Vongola, who had flinched from his words like they were a blow.
Iemitsu and Timoteo might not know what the child is, but Reborn does. Dammit, but this changes things. His briefing said that Tsunayoshi was solitary, prone to fits of temper, and possessed of a sense about people that could only be the Hyper Intuition in spades.
The briefing is entirely wrong. Reborn can tell, just from the way Tsunayoshi’s presence is muted and strange. Amateur shields, no doubt, and not very good ones.
God fucking dammit, but this changes things. A natural empath, without training, in charge of the Vongola?
Disaster would be putting it mildly.
just because this came to me:
“Tsuna,” Reborn says, and Tsuna looks over to his tutor, tilting his head in question. “Thin them out.”
Tsuna flinches, almost involuntarily.
“Trust me,” Reborn says, and well, that’s the rub, isn’t it. Tsuna does trust Reborn. How can he not, when the hitman was the first person to see him and understand?
Turning back to the battlefield, Tsuna nods, and lets out a slow breath. And as he breathes out, he spins down the fire whirl that has kept his mind hidden from others.
hopefeardeterminationworryanticipationbloodthirst–The emotions whip through him, and Tsuna refuses to hold them, letting them pass him by until–FURY.
It rips through him, and when Tsuna raises his head and the Cervello open the battle, he has it beating a second heartbeat in his chest, telling him the pace of this short war.
“On September 9, 1957, Louis Armstrong was about to go onstage…when he saw on television a crowd of whites jeering at black children who were trying to enter Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas.
Armstrong was outraged. He had just been asked to undertake a goodwill tour of the Soviet Union for the State Department. Jazz had always been a symbol of American freedom and Armstrong [would’ve] been the first American jazz artist to appear behind the Iron Curtain…with Little Rock, he was reluctant to go.
Armstrong cancelled the tour. ‘The way they’re treating my people in the south,” he told a reporter, 'the government can go to hell. It’s getting so bad, a colored man hasn’t got any country.’“ -Jazz (2001)
Today, 19th May, 1536, Anne Boleyn was executed. Good Christian people, I have come here to die, according to the law and thus yield myself to the will of the King, my Lord. And if ever in my life I did offend the King’s grace, then surely with my death I do now atone. I pray and beseech you all to pray for the life of the King, my sovereign Lord and yours who is one of the best princes of the Earth, who has always treated me so well. Where for I submit to death a goodwill, humbly asking for pardon from all the world. If anyone should take up my case, I ask them only to judge it kindly. Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, I heartily desire all of you to pray for me.
“Good Christian people, I have come here to die according to the law and thus yield myself to the will of the King, my Lord. And if ever in my life I did offend the King’s grace, then surely with my death I do now atone. I pray and beseech you all to pray for the life of the King, my sovereign Lord and yours who is one of the best princes of the Earth, who has always treated me so well. Where for I submit to death a goodwill, humbly asking for pardon from all the world. If anyone should take up my case, I ask them only to judge it kindly.”
despite being a poc myself, id never truly understood the power of representation until i read 'this bird my soul'. at one point i jumped out of my chair BECAUSE THAT'S JUST LIKE ME - I CALL MY MOM AMMA AND I WORE A MANG TO MY SISTER'S WEDDING AT WHICH SHE HAD WEDDING MEHENDI ON. It's just, Zinat is beautiful and brave and clever but she's just like me! That's never happened before! Reading your stories and finding bits of me in them is a feeling beyond delight. thank you so so much for all this
so, this is really beside the point of everything and you guys know I don’t make a habit of publishing my own praises, but also like
Good Christian people, I have come here to die according to the law and thus yield myself to the will of the King, my Lord. And if ever in my life I did offend the King’s grace, then surely with my death I do now atone. I pray and beseech you all to pray for the life of the King, my sovereign Lord and yours who is one of the best princes of the Earth, who has always treated me so well. Where for I submit to death a goodwill, humbly asking for pardon from all the world. If anyone should take up my case, I ask them only to judge it kindly. Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, I heartily desire all of you to pray for me.
Jesus Christ receive my soul, oh Lord, God have pity on my soul, to Lord Christ I commend myself. Jesus Christ receive my soul, oh Lord, God have pity on my soul. Oh Lord, God have pity on my soul.Jesus Christ receive my soul, Jesus Christ receive my soul.Jesus Christ receive my soul, oh Lord, God have pity on my soul, to Lord Christ I commend myself.To Christ I commend myself.
Prompt: Ladynoir-I will follow you into the dark-death can for a cutie
You must know that if given half an chance to make it angsty I’m gonna have to take it. This is nOT MY FAULT
The nails of his suit dig in painfully as he tightens his grip in surprise. The attack that had caused the beam to fall squarely on his shoulder had come out of nowhere, but as the dust settles, he can see the outline of his attacker approaching.
~Right, I saw the swapped jackets fan art and my brain instantly jumped to College AU…sorry, this is the aftermath~
“Cas, you home?” Dean called as he walked into the apartment, pocketing his keys. Odd. Cas was usually out in the living room around now, either doing homework or spread across the couch lazily reading a book. Dean frowned. He’d grown accustomed to Cas’ presence; in fact, Dean rather enjoyed spending time with the guy.
If someone had told Dean as a high school senior that his best friend was about to become some scrawny, dorky little dude, Dean wouldn’t have believed it. Not in a million years. Not if someone paid him. And yet, Dean and Cas had been inseparable since freshman year, when, as fate would have it, Cas was assigned to Dean’s dorm room.
“Cas, you taking a leak?” Dean called again. When there was still no answer, he opened the door of their bedroom to find Cas on his bed, knees curled to his chest as he examined a pile of neatly folded sweaters nearby. Upon closer examination, Dean could see the tell-tale signs of crying in Cas’ red-rimmed eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Dean asked, sitting next to Cas. “And don’t say nothing. I know when you’re lying.”
“I-it’s nothing,” Cas replied shakily, wiping a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe away any possible tears lingering on his cheeks. He looked away from Dean, still staring at the sweaters. “You think you could give me a ride to Goodwill?” Cas asked finally, “I’ve got…I guess I’ve got some donations to make.”
“Your sweaters?” Dean asked, “But you love those!” Every year, Cas would come home on the first cold day of Fall and joyfully pull his carefully tended stash from storage, dithering over which one to wear first. “What happened?”
Cas looked at Dean hesitantly. “It’s nothing, really, just…”
“Just what?” Dean pressed, scooting closer.
“The teasing finally got to me,” Cas whispered.
“Who were they? What did they say?” Dean stood, ready to beat the morons who did this.
“It’s the usual,” Cas admitted, “That I look like an idiot. That I’m never going to win anyone over this way. That…that I don’t deserve to have someone like you as a roommate.”
Dean glowered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cas looked at Dean sadly. “Haven’t you seen it? You’re the most popular guy in the apartment complex. You’re smart, athletic, attractive, pick a trait, you’ve probably got it. Me? Well, you know enough to know I don’t exactly fit that mold.”
Dean was taken aback. “You don’t believe them, do you?”
Cas shrugged, burying his head into his knees. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you.”
Dean shook his head. “They don’t know you like I do. If they did…” he trailed off…”Man, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” he finished lamely. Glancing over at Cas, Dean slid off the jacket he was wearing. It was his favorite leather jacket, the one that belonged to his dad. With a grin, he dumped it on top of Cas’ head.
“Dean, what?” Cas uncurled out of his ball form, lifting the jacket off his head. He watched as Dean knelt down, sifted through the pile of sweaters, then selected a blue patterned one from the mix, holding it up against himself.
“What do you think?” Dean asked with a grin.
Cas felt a small smile spread across his face. “You’re not actually going to…”
“Wear it? Of course! You wear my jacket tomorrow, I’ll wear this. Then we’ll see who’s teasing.”
Cas shook his head in disbelief, clutching the leather jacket to his chest as he rocked back and forth slightly on the bed.
The next morning, that’s exactly what they did. Dean grinning as he watched Cas walk out the door, jacket so big it covered his hands. And the sweater? Dean wouldn’t admit it, but it was extremely comfortable.
“Cas! I’m home!” Dean called, opening the door to the apartment at the end of the day. He barely got through the doorway when he was caught in a hug, Cas still in Dean’s jacket. “Cas, wh-”
“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, his voice muffled by the sweater Dean was still wearing.
Blushing slightly, Dean hugged Cas back. “You know,” he murmured, “I like this sweater so much, I just might keep it.”
Ally, I'm gonna miss Robin Williams but we always have his films to rematch and enjoy again. It's just I'll miss him because he was so funny and talented. ; ______ ;
The loss of Robin Williams is great. Not only because he was such an iconic actor that we all grew up with, but because he was extremely outspoken about the problems he faced and was facing in hopes that by talking about it, he would be helping others.
In order to honor how to honor him, I think we, as a people, need to continuously celebrate all the good he did and all the joy he brought while simultaneously raising awareness for mental illnesses.
There will never be another like Robin Williams, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to continue his goodwill.