but it must work

This is my mind on fiction.

And if fiction were real
maybe I wouldn’t 
dread to feel
the hole I’m 
so desperate to fill
when words elude me
in moments I’m most still–

but writing is like breathing
and if I don’t write,
is this air in my lungs,
is it just the memory teasing?

The reason I hate the “Shakespeare didn’t actually write Shakespeare” theories so much is they seem to be inherently rooted in taking his works away from ordinary people. “The son of a glovemaker could never have written these plays! Surely only an Aristocratic Intellectual, like the Earl of Oxford, could be responsible!" 

Honestly fuck off. Shakespeare was one of us. His plays were written for the masses. He was an ordinary man who captured the voice of the people and the depths of their emotions. We credit Shakespeare with making up words and phrases, but who’s to say he wasn’t writing down what he heard on the streets? "But something as complex as Hamlet could never have been written by Shakespeare! It must have been the work of a nobleman!” Well guess what, not only did he write it, but he wrote it because that’s what his audience liked. The hordes of ordinary people consumed his deeply philosophical play about a young man musing over life and death and sin and they LOVED it. 

Shakespeare was a crowd-pleaser and an entertainer, and reason his work is so beautiful and poetic and philosophical (as well as bloody and sexual!) is because he was responding to popular demand. Most people attending the theatre were illiterate; they consumed literature by listening, and this is one of the reasons why playwrights utilised iambic pentameter and rhyming schemes. Their dialogue is poetry, and it’s beautiful to listen to. The first time Romeo and Juliet meet, their shared dialogue creates a sonnet. Imagine a commoner sitting in the crowd listening to that, and it hits him like an arrow, wow, listen to the way these characters speak, this is love at first sight. 

Shakespeare was an ordinary man, and the beauty and complexity of his works were fuelled largely by the appetite of ordinary people. Although plays could be written and performed for the aristocracy, it was the hordes at the theatres that one had to keep happy. This modern obsession with putting him on a pedestal and trying to make him high culture or inaccessible to ordinary people is just gross. This upstart crow will always be one of us, and his work will always be for us.

Take moments to free your mind and to experience self discovery, for working hard must also involve self reflection.

roseverdict  asked:

IT'S FAB WOODBOT!!! Sooooo, Periwinkle, how're you doing? (Aside from fabulous, you're always fabulous!)

“Oh, i’m doing just fine darling~”

“The holidays are always a lot of work but the show must go on” 

64 days in heaven and hell (118)
Day 31, November 22
Van Gogh’s paintings, sketches and drawings were all around in the Yellow House. Gauguin certainly didn’t like all of them, but the ‘Roubine du Roi’ works must have caught his attention for some reason. They inspired him to paint this almost abstract, but intriguing scene with washerwomen on the bank of the canal.
It was his most daring attempt up to this day. His self-confidence was peaking right after a few encouraging messages. His art dealer (Vincent’s brother Theo) had just written him about the sale of a few paintings and of Degas’ praise for his work. Only a few days later an invitation to participate in the next exhibition of the renowned ‘Les XX’ found it’s way to the Yellow House.

In contrast, Van Gogh’s morale was deeply affected by Gauguin’s successes.

Paul Gauguin, Laveuses à Arles (Washerwomen at Arles), November 1888. Oil on burlap, 74 x 92 cm. Musea de Bellas Artes de Bilbao, Spain

anonymous asked:

peko/mikan is such a good ship. mikan would try to read peko's face for her emotion and it doesn't work so she panics bc she must be bored or hate her or something and peko tries to smile to reassure mikan but it's peko so the smile comes out weird and upsets mikan even more. poor dears. best ship.



Inundation [Tony Stark]

Title: Inundation [Tony Stark x Reader]

Author: Ultrastrangetales

Summary: An encouraging realist and an angsty genius hanging in a bar.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance

Story Type: One-shot

“We cannot keep meeting like this.”

Startled, Tony looked up hazily.

Annoyance instantly clouded his features once he realized who was gracing him with company, his dark unfocused eyes narrowing further when you pulled out the stool next to him.

Bringing his glass to his lips, he grumbled, “Quit stalking me.”

“Are you ever not snarky?” you asked lightly, taking in his disheveled appearance. His hair was spiked in all directions, he shirt ruffled, jeans cluttered in random oil stains. He must have been working on a project again. Which most likely meant he was agonizing over it.

Motioning the bartender over, you rattled off your order, before turning back to Tony, resting your cheek against your palm, “You’re sulking.”

“I am not,” he denied, avoiding your gaze as he took another long sip. You stared at him intently, seeing right through his lie.

“You are,” you said, careful to keep your voice deceptively neutral. “Every time I see you in here you are always brooding over something. Pepper, Ultron, your parents, the accords-” you paused. “No one has contacted you yet…”

You only knew so much about Tony from the frequent drunken interactions you guys had together, but the information you had was enough. “Everyone has gone incognito and haven’t reached out, so you’re working on suits.”

The dirty look he sent your way assured you that your assumption was close to the truth. He wouldn’t tell you outright. He never did.

When the bartender placed your drink in front of you, you gave him a small smile and took a delicate sip. You didn’t miss the way Tony’s eyes shot to your lips. Chuckling to yourself softly, you set your glass back onto the polished wooden counter and gazed at the five empty shot glasses in front of him.

“You never drink this much…” you murmured. “You must be really upset.”

“I was doing fine until you showed up,” he quipped.

“Ouch,” you mutter sarcastically. “Someone has to care about you trying to drink away your misery.”

“I had a team for that,” he mumbled mildly.

“Yes. Had. And now I’m here carrying the weight until you guys band back together and destroy more stuff to protect humanity from weirdos.”

“I don’t need you to carry anything.”

At the sight of your skeptical face, he rolled his eyes and chose to give you a drawn out stare. “Keep talking happy and I’ll have to leave.”

You tilted your head and then shrugged at the empty threat. Another glass appeared before Tony and with a quick gulp he set it back down with a soft clink. You frowned and said, “Well at least leaving would keep you from getting drunk,”

His face conveyed his thoughts.

Are you stupid?

“I’ll just find another bar, or better yet drink in my fancy tower in peace.”

Miffed, you let out a long sigh, “Tony…”

You snatched the next glass placed in front of him and sternly ordered the bartender not to bring anymore. Tony glared at you but made no move to get up. “Give me back my stuff.”

“No. I’m not going to enable you.”

You weren’t sure how long you two stared at each other with contempt, trying to wilt the other person’s will, but in the end, Tony turned scoffing in aggravation. It was enough to make you fume.

He was such a child.

“Is this how you’re going to fix things? Sit in your lab all day, work on random projects, and then sulk at bars, because I hate to break it to you, that’s not how the real world operates. You’re going to kill yourself Tony, you’re harming yourself.”

He whipped around so fast your breath hitched in your throat. He brought his face close to yours, his nose ghosting your own. You stilled, completely caught off guard by his sudden movement. “You don’t know a damn thing about the world I operate in. Not one damn thing,” he ground out.

The smell of his cologne and the whiskey he had been drinking filled your nostrils, and you found yourself gently rubbing your nose against his.

You gently grabbed his hands in yours, and rested your forehead against his.

“I may not understand it all…” you whispered cautiously, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t set him off, “but I know it’s hard…and I think…no…no…I know this is not the way to handle it all,” you say, gazing into his broken brown eyes. “You claim to be a genius, but you’re acting so foolish. You can’t keep blaming yourself Tony…you can’t, you can’t keep hating yourself.”

Tony wrenched his eyes shut, tore himself from your mesmerizing hold, and slammed a few large bills on the counter.

He stood up hastily, stumbling a bit as he strode across the bar. Shocked you watched on before snatching your bag and chasing after him when he finally fumbled out the door. You pressed your lips together when you heard the bartender’s indignant cry, and flimsily pointed to the large bills Tony left.

“Tony!” you called, throwing your hands up in the air. “What the hell?”

He turned back toward you, a glare hardening his features. “Leave me alone.”

“I will not!” you said, walking briskly to catch up to him. He tried to pace away but his movements were slow and sluggish and it wasn’t long until you had caught up to him again. “Why are you running away?”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Give it to someone else who needs it.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“Yeah well I’m not known for my shining personality.”

Flustered, you grabbed him by his arm and forced him to stop and face you. His eyes were pained, his cheeks flushed. “Leave…just go…” he whispered brokenly, “everyone else does. I either mess things up for them or do things that make them resent me.”

You had no idea what to say, didn’t know how to react to his raw, honest display of pain and hopelessness. So you kissed him.

It was awkward, and a little clumsy at first when you placed your lips against his. He made no attempt to respond to the kiss until you gently coaxed him into it.

Soon his lips were meshing against yours, hungry and desperate. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his own slithered around your waist to pull you closer.

Above you, the clouds crackled and the first few drops of rain fell from the sky. It started sparse, until it fell with force, drenching you both. Unbothered, your arms tightened around him when his tongue rolled along yours the way you liked, your body shuddering delightfully in response.

The passion made you light-headed and with great relectaunce, you slowly pulled away from him.

You demurely lowered your gaze, and gently rested your head against his chest, listening to the sound of the rain, and the fast rhythm of his heartbeat. Closing your eyes, you let a smile blossom on your face.

“I will be here for you Tony, I have been here through it all, even when it seemed like no one else was…” you said. “It’s no coincidence that we met in that bar all that time ago. Things happen for a reason.”

You could hear him try to fight back the sob threatening to leave his throat, and your smile turned gloomy. Your fingers gently traced circles on the back of his neck as his body shook. “I will always be here for you…I won’t leave you,” you said quietly, your voice was filling with honesty and conviction. His body trembled harder.

Out on the lonely streets, surrounded by nothing but Tony and the rain, your smile returned to its sunny self when you heard the soft appreciative words uttered just mere moments later.

“…Thank you.”

“I was afraid of losing you”

This is honestly so heartbreaking though? Can you imagine how terrified Even was throughout their relationship after Isak had said youknowwhat to him in the locker room? How hard Even must have worked to keep it together? Because showing Isak even just a little bit of his mental illness would have ended everything? Can you imagine how hard Even tried to keep it together in the hotel that night? The desperation he must have felt to not let his mental illness surface? How incredibly difficult everything must have been for him? Thinking back to the school scene where Sonja tries to tell Isak about Even can you imagine how terrified Even was of that call? How scared he must have been when he left Isak? The anxiety he must have felt? It makes my stomach turn to be honest. I have been there. Trying my best to put on this facade that everything is okay and I am okay. Pretending to be a completely functional individual when you’re mental illness is pulling at you all day constantly reminding you that you are not has to be the greatest struggle I’ve ever had to deal with. It’s incredibly scary you are constantly analyzing everything you say and everyone’s reactions your movements are controlled your smiles are timed. It’s a battle you have to fight every single day. It’s horrible. It’s like you’re battling this thing that won’t leave you alone and on top of that you have to pretend that everything is okay that nothing is wrong. I honestly wouldn’t wish that existence on anyone because no one deserves to live like that and that is why we need to be able to talk about mental illness openly we have to stop demonizing it and the individuals who struggle with it. We didn’t ask for this, we don’t want it, but it’s there and it is constantly torturing us it’s constantly hurting us without our consent. I’m so happy that skam showed this struggle that Even has been having because man can I identify with that. With that fear of being found out. With that fear of losing people I care about because they might be scared or because they think they can’t help me so they keep their distance. I am so happy that Isak finally knows about Even being bipolar because this means that Even no longer has to pretend to be anything he can just be himself completely because at the end of the day even if our mental illnesses do not define us they are a part of us and one that we have to fight with for the rest of our lives and we shouldn’t have to hide it to receive acceptance or because we fear the way people are going to react.


Ok Carats, it’s time for us to work hard and show our support to Seventeen, the fandom is being very careless about voting.
Some wait for others to vote or just giving up. You have seen how much Seventeen works on each album and we can’t just stand and watch. They have lost a 1° place by only a few points, they could have won with just a few more votes. Every vote is important.

We must be a fandom which represents what they are, who work hard, that support each other, so they know that they can rely on us in difficult times and that we will always be there for them.

After registering just take a few seconds to vote, let’s do it Carats! The boys deserve it. I will make a post with all the links to vote


I totally meant to include multiple images of wine in my Mozzie aesthetics set, but then I totally forgot to add them. 😂😭😭😭 #FAIL

I must fix this! (Later, bc now I’m at work and later I’ll be baking cookies)


anothrwintr  asked:

may seem silly, but, who does the murakumo's braids? i mean, that's seriously a piece of work there. it must've taken really long to finish.

We don’t question anime hair.
How do Terumi and Ragna get those spikes without a copious amount of wax?
How does Litchi maintain her hair?

At least Amane’s concept art showed us how his is done.

3 Weeks until the Obiyuki Kiss-a-thon!

Originally posted by bloody--cherry

Ring in the New Year right with the FIRST EVER Obiyuki Kiss-a-thon!  What is a kiss-a-thon?For the each day of the long weekend, we will have a prompt, and you may post any obiyuki work under the tag #obiyukikiss as long as it pertains to that prompt…and has a kiss.


Dec 30: Accident

Dec 31: Lesson

Jan 1: Undertow

Jan 2: Forever

Tag: #obiyukikiss

Medias: Anything goes, as long as it’s yours (and there is a kiss!)

Kiss-a-thon Guidelines:

  • All work must be your own
  • Must contain a kiss (between Obi and Shirayuki) of any type
  • Must be tagged #obiyukikiss within the first five tags
  • Please tag adult content as NSFW
  • Be nice
  • Play hard

Questions: send to here

anonymous asked:

"My dear Jacob, as much as I enjoy your company, I must get back to work..." She reclined back in her chair, a smirk drawing across her lips. "That is, unless you'd be willing to assist me on the job? ♥"

  • | Viewing this on mobile? Click the site map |
  • | Requests are: Closed | Commissions are: Pending |
  • (♥Please check latest post to make sure this is current♥)

“Oh?” Jacob chimed in, turning to you then as his arms crossed over his chest in a curious fashion. “Work is far more important than I, love?” He smirked, as if finding that hard to believe. “If assisting you on the job means I can remain beside you for a bit longer, then I’d love nothing more.”

rooster213  asked:

I know how you feel. School isn't for everyone. The system is flawed. The system only works for a certain few and the classes one must take most of the time doesn't make any sense. I also feel miserable with school and even though I always do well I can't stand it. This is because we are wired differently. I'm sure you're ready to leave and begin to work in your field. Patience is what we need because this workforce will not consider us if we don't have that piece of paper they call a degree.

i really dont know why im like this but i hate it and its discouraging cuz i have no other options. i jus cant help but feel immensely guilty about throwing the opportunity of school away or not taking it seriously because i know that there are people that really want a higher education but like… why am i so unhappy it jus makes me feel like a spoiled brat tbh