but this is honestly a fantastic book

I AM ALSO DEFINITELY GETTING THIS. Honestly, I feel like the Para-Selene situational CD series is going to be fantastic.

(For any DL fans that weren’t able to keep up with all the upcoming DL releases that were recently announced, I’ve translated everything HERE! Feel free to check it out!)

I am personally getting:

  • Sakamaki Ayato - Sadistic Song Vol.1 “Kekkyoku Night” (character song CD, received)
  • LOST EDEN - Limited Edition, Ami-ami SP Pack (game, in shipping process)
  • 5th Anniversary Book (book)
  • Sakamaki Subaru - Saidsting Song Vol.6 “SQueeze…” (character song CD)
  • Sakamaki Ayato - Para-Selene (situation CD)
  • DIABOLIK LOVERS CHAOS LINEAGE Vol.3 ORANGE (drama CD)

So far it’s like this! With this many releases, it also means there’ll be a lot of goods and magazine features. I’m really excited!

and like Here’s The Thing about the staggering lack queer rep in Harry Potter.

I understand if JKR wasn’t in a position to include explicitly queer characters in the original books, honestly. I know she gets a lot of gripe for not making Dumbledore’s sexuality clear in the books, or god forbid including any queer students, but I get it. the books weren’t published at an ideal time to be putting explicit queerness in books that were primarily advertised as being for children. like honestly, I get it. I, a queer, am willing to forgive J.K. Rowling for not including any overt gayness in the original HP books.

BUT. but. here’s the thing. the franchise, has stretched sooooooo far beyond the original series now. for better or worse, JKR’s world is going to stay around and keep being relevant for the foreseeable future. 

and the franchise hasn’t adapted, at all. like say what you will about Rick Riordan and his books, but the series has expanded waaaay beyond the original books, because Rick Riordan gives a shit about letting kids see themselves in the books they read. JKR has has SO. MUCH. TIME. to add any shred of queerness to the series. she could have gotten Albus and Scorpius together. she could have sent out a damn tweet about Lavender and Parvati getting married, or Dean and Seamus, or ANYONE. anything. and she’s passed that up every time.

you know that post that talks about Joss Whedon’s brand of feminism not keeping up with the times AT ALL, so that what seemed really exciting once it just pitiful now? the same applies to JKR’s ability to represent anyone who isn’t straight. or white. or any other variation from the perceived “norm”, honestly.

An Opinion

Honestly the HP franchise introducing giggle water into their selection of drinks is so fucking stupid hahahaha bc you can legitimately make butterbeer and no one is gonna tell you its not like it was in the books but good fucking luck trying to put giggle water out at Harry Potter World bc all that’s gonna bring is disappointment when people don’t do the Jacob Kowalski Laugh™ after each shot

Honestly… I’m scared of the Harry Potter fandom. I grew up watching the movies and then read the books, I enjoyed the Cursed Child, and I am excited for all five Fantastic Beast movies. But I’ve been yelled at and criticized so much for it. I’m honestly scared to say I’m a part of the fandom. I’ve even been bullied to tears. I know the whole fandom isn’t like this, but it just feels so toxic. I don’t even know what to do anymore. People I know IRL make me feel bad to be a fan too.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was amazing and I definitely recommend!

What was your favourite part? Honestly the whole section inside the suitcase was wonderful

(and if you haven’t seen it yet, ahhhh!!! avoid this post like the plague lmao (and more importantly, go see it!))

10

Yeah Fantastic Beasts was good but do you know what I really want?

Marauders Era Movies and Books

“The Marauders and the Shrieking Shack”
“The Marauders and the Secret Maps”
“The Marauders and Severus Snapes Greasy Hair”
“The Marauders and the first Deathly Hallow”
I mean the possibilities are endless. Especially with all of the headcannons I’ve seen over the years. Honestly I could write them (but I’m horrible at writing) using the stuff I see. So J.K. Please, p l e a s e consider it?

Fantastic Beasts is so good!

I was already excited because I’m a big Harry Potter fan (seriously, I run a whole blog around it). Apart from reading all the books multiple times and watching all the movies, also multiple times, I’ve read all the things on Pottermore, got sorted to all the houses, I know my wand and my Patronus. I have tickets to Cursed Child to exactly a year from today (nice coincidence) so let’s just say the hype was high already

Keep reading

A few months ago I watched the Australian movie “Holding The Man” for the first time and was so moved. The actors Ryan Corr and Craig Stott had fantastic chemistry and really sold their on screen relationship. After finishing the film, I was mesmerized at what I had seen. I discovered that there was an original memoir in which the film was adapted from, and I ordered it off Amazon. I waited months to read it after I had completed my spring semester at college, but I don’t think I was ready.

When I finally came around to reading it a month or so later, I was on vacation and kept leaving my family to read it alone. I couldn’t stop reading and it was honestly one of the most compelling things I’ve read. I felt so moved and inspired by such a vividly crisp account of two men’s unconditional love tested by the HIV epidemic. The movie was fantastic, but the book was impeccably stellar. I’ve never been affected so much by a work, but I’m sitting here hours after finishing the book and I’m lost in my mind. I keep thinking about the two men, how inspiring their story was, and how great their beautiful love was and still is. Timothy Conigrave paints a painfully honest picture of himself, his lover John Caleo, their relationship and the grueling times they endured. Tim was no perfect man, and sometimes you wonder why he does the things he does. You feel bad for John. But you start to understand Tim, and you really know that Tim loves John. Through his perspective, I developed a love for John and eventually for Tim too. I understood and felt as if I knew the two of them like they were my best friends.

When John dies, I too feel the pain and the loss Tim endures. And knowing that Tim dies, I feel a horrible loss and an emptiness in my heart. I’ve become so consumed by their story that I’m physically ill at the moment as though I’m mourning the loss of some good friends I knew; because I did know them through this haunting and intimate memoir. So my purpose in writing this was to share my affecting experience with this memoir, hopefully finding solace by posting all my thoughts that are currently flooding my head, and to inform someone, whoever is reading this, on how their (and many others’) contributions to the gay community need to be carried on.

I feel that the last generation of gay men and women have fought for the treatment of HIV as well as the social awareness of being gay, bisexual, transgender, lesbian, and anything in between. But that’s just awareness and there’s some unfinished business. I feel like all of the work done by the last generation must be carried on to create acceptance. We have not completed the last generation’s fight to have all things LGBT acceptable and commonplace throughout our society. Tim Conigrave made relatively big waves in his time alive by his involvement in gay advocacy groups as well as working a call center for HIV infected men and women among many other things. Of course, Tim left behind a monumental story and legacy with Holding The Man, but in the time he was here, he did small things that had big impacts. And it inspires me to think that maybe I and many others could do the same in this transition from LGBT Awareness to Acceptance. I think we shouldn’t settle for tolerance, there’s nothing to tolerate because we are just beings like everyone else. We love who we want, wear what we want, and think what we want just like everyone else and that’s the freedom of individuality.

I’m thankful for this book and had no idea that this memoir left behind by two beautiful men would inspire me into such deep thoughts, big dreams, and hopes for our future. Thank you Timothy Conigrave and John Caleo for your enduring story, you two have left an indelible mark on me. Let it be known that you and many others who died so soon from HIV/AIDS/ or as a result of being LGBTQ are not forgotten and have not died in vain. The fight that you all started will continue, we will push on and continue to fulfill your legacy.

I know I will start small, and be more proud of who I am. I haven’t always been proud of being gay, and I think that’s the first step in personal change. This book has helped me discover a catharsis, and I’ve began my path to self acceptance and healing. I hope one day to make some contribution that can change things somehow, someway.

stellar-dolly  asked:

Veronica and JD struggle to do actual planning bc JD assumed Veronica, being a girl, was all about that stuff but V wants nothing to do with it tbh - so they get the Heathers to plan their wedding, and it's fantastic and over the top. Veronica finds out JDs mom kept diaries, and get her signature or something inscribed on the inside of his ring. She works parts of his favorite books and poems into their vows. She wears a tea length dress and a long veil and - Honestly I can go on forever.

OMG THEY WOULD

heather mac would be the most enthusiastic obviously. she’d get all into the decorations and entertainment and catering and shit, and heather chandler would be in charge of veronica’s dress, and she’d like drag her to bridal boutiques against her will and force her to try on 1000 different dresses and every time veronica found one she liked she’d be like “oh this one’s nice” and heather would be like “are you insane??? that was a joke dress I was just testing you. you have horrible test as I expected.” and heather duke is bitter and really tempted to sabotage everything but she restrains herself. that’s so cute aahhh

Ludo’s Fate

Today’s episode of Star vs was a real interesting one, we learned what’s been happening with Glossaryck and  Ludo, and final got confirmation that Toffee is influencing Ludo through the wand. Which is all very interesting making this the most exciting episode this week.

Although in this article I wish to discuss a scene that I couldn’t stop think of which is when Ludo took a look into Eclipsa’s chapter of the book. Hearing Toffee after his disappearance was fantastic, I particularly like it when Ludo looked into the book and expecting something dark and intense to happen but it didn’t happen right away and I think I know why. I believe Eclipsa’s chapter looked right  through Ludo until he found Toffee presence who is  real big villain here, honestly from what I’ve seen I don’t think Ludo is evil. We learned a lot about Ludo past in this episode, we discovered his relationship with his father was nothing because he never helped Ludo at all. With that Ludo behavior towards Glossaryck was treating him like a father figure; he ask if he was proud of him, ask him to tuck to bed and call him ‘Darling’. It seems that sad child who wants attention. Ludo went so far as to trust Glossaryk after their great day and Gloassryk stating he is proud of him as Ludo wanted, now that a I think about it he acted to Toffee in that fortune cookie he trusted him to much believing he formed a bond with  him. He doesn’t really seem like a brutal villain in the past.

My theory is that it’s he might not join Toffee battle against Star, for one Toffee used him twice now. He maybe someone who just want to prove himself and maybe Star or Buff maybe someone to help with that.

Esmé Squalor's Voicemail
  • Esmé Squalor's Voicemail
Play

transcript:

Due to recent popularity our shows are now booked solid and we won’t be answering any more calls. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience but I do hope you have a magnificent

Volunteers are you still listening? Did you honestly think your little codes were that hard? Starting fires is in and putting them out is… well, out. Anwhistle Aquatics has been reduced to ashes and we will find the sugar bowl. I think it is safe to assume that P was lost in the fire and A… well… I don’t think she was expecting my handsome fellow. (giggles) Read between the lines volunteers: it all ends in fire. Cease investigation.

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to let you know that I think you're a fantastic writer, and even if you decided to never write again, the fics you have done are so good, and I really appreciate the fact that you've taken the time to write them. Honestly, I've read many popular published books with such shitty writing and plots. You've got a real talent for writing. Thanks for all your hard work xx

Originally posted by coloursong

NONNIE THIS IS SO NICE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! You’ve made my heart so happy today, *squee* <3

i honestly dont kno who would be more pressed over new york slander between shao and zeke

like zeke wrote the entirety of empire state of mind AND played the piano AND is actually alicia keys’s dad AND is literally voiced by nas………

but @ the same shao has six different pairs of timbs (timbs for the morning, afternoon, evening, formal/dining, cozy time timbs, and parkour timbs) and literally gave zeke the name “books” so he could call him b………

I did a thing...

Hey guys, happy Saturday/Sunday! So I usually don’t do this, but thanks to amazeballs s4 trailer and frankly an indecent amount of fan flailing on my part, I wrote a little thing based off the Olicity cuteness in the trailer.

Originally posted by arrowsource

*Happy sigh*

Tagging (since I assume they’ll be interested, but no hard feelings if you’re not)

klarolicityswan (I honestly think that Shia LeBeouf gif you sent me helped), pidanka, ah-maa-zing (returning the favor for your fantastic ficlets), flailykermit, ruwithmeguys, awomanthatyoulove, smoakd, winchesterofcamelot, books-tea-rain


Felicity had never been good with recipes. Or recipe words. Spells and wand movements — sure. She could swish and flick the hell out of any Harry Potter movie marathon. But the perfect slide-and-nudge to fold an omelet in the pan?

Suffice it to say that her inner nerd was more interested in fictional magical schools than making sure she didn’t die from eating burned eggs.

Felicity licked a smear of avocado off her thumb and paged back to her bookmark in Cooking to Impress by Katie Cheng — highly recommended by the nice lady at CC Bookends, who recognized Felicity around the second time she came in looking for the equivalent of Cooking for Dummies. After a slightly embarrassing recount of the burned pizza bagels, and the cardboard-consistency French toast, Ellen had nodded understandingly and suggested recipe books with pictures. Lots of them.

Which didn’t make her feel like she was about twelve. Then again, twelve-year-olds didn’t usually choke their boyfriends with calcified breakfasts (they just teased each other and exchanged edible bagged lunches — ah, to be in sixth grade again).

Felicity almost slid straight off the countertop when she leaned forward to check the time. The wall clock beside the row of cabinets read ten minutes to nine, and even five months into their vacation, Oliver was infallibly on time when it came to routines. She’d watched him jog up the lane at a little past eight in his favorite green hoodie, which meant that he’d be back nine-ish, smelling of seawater and possibly wet dog (Oliver was inexplicably popular with the stray that haunted the stretch of coast near their house).

Also, hungry. Hopefully hungry enough to eat whatever she put in front of him (impressive, please be impressive). Or, failing that, he could eat something else. And Felicity knew he liked that just fine. More than fine, if she was being self-congratulatory.

Even though she was alone, Felicity inched the book higher to cover her face, as if to hide the fact that she was blushing at the thought of what Oliver could have instead of breakfast.

Anyway.

Avocado, cheddar and tomato omelet. Not too much to ask for. Visual distraction and deceptive impressiveness — her bread and butter. So far, she’d grated the cheese without skinning her knuckles (score), sliced the tomatoes without taking off her fingers (double score), and hollowed out two avocados without getting green gunk all over the spotless kitchen cabinets like the last time (who knew those things could be so slippery). And to top off this auspicious sundae, said ingredients had made it into the pan of bubbling eggs and now awaited the highly-anticipated omelet fold.

Which she could totally manage.

Felicity picked up the spatula and practiced the slide-and-nudge in the air, waving her wrist around with careful exaggeration.

Slide and nudge. Slide and nudge. Slide and nudge.

Layer ½ of omelet with tomatoes, avocado, and cheddar — she’d done that — after three to five minutes, the eggs —

“— should not look like that,” Felicity declared, wondering why, instead of an artful contrast of green-red-and-sunny-yellow in the copper frying pan, there was a smoking, psychedelic mess of highlighter colors in the vein of Do Not Eat, Poison.

Felicity leaned over the pan. “Frack,” she said, prodding at the mixture with the edge of the spatula while she paged through Cooking to Impress for rescue advice.

And…nothing. No advice on how not to make her boyfriend think that she wanted to send him to the hospital with explosive diarrhea.

“Are you getting tired of me already?”

Felicity’s head shot up, because she had not realized that she’d been talking out loud. Oliver — in his usual catlike way — had managed to walk all the way from the front door to the kitchen counter without making a sound, and now had a front row seat to another disastrous Felicity Smoak attempt at a home cooked breakfast. Kudos to him for smiling like it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, not like he’d just walked in after a healthy morning jog to find his girlfriend presiding over the scene of a culinary crime.

“This,” she said, accidentally flicking a piece of psychedelic egg onto Oliver’s copy of National Geographic, “is not what it looks like.”

“Hm.” Oliver stepped up to the stove top and peered into the smoking pan with polite interest. “It looks like you’re making me breakfast.”

Felicity waggled her spatula in a ta-dah kind of way. “Surprise,” she said sheepishly.

Something popped in the pan, and Felicity yelped, scooting a good few inches away from the stove.

“Maybe we should turn the heat off,” Oliver suggested mildly.

“Probably a good idea,” Felicity agreed, her voice muffled behind Cooking to Impress.

Two minutes later, the still-faintly smoking pan was soaking in the sink, and the color-swirl eggs (now with an added shade of burnt-stuff-brown) were on a plate beside a tall glass of Oliver’s usual vegetable juice (gross).

Felicity was still sitting on the counter, hiding half of her face behind the book. “It’s testament to my nonexistent cooking skills that your yuck-juice looks pretty appetizing right now,” she said, grimacing at the remembered taste of liquified kale (the sacrilege).

Instead of sitting down at the breakfast bar (or making a hasty excuse to go for another run), Oliver came up to her, planting his broad hands on either side of her legs. “Morning,” he said, leaning close.

Even through the makeshift face shield, Felicity could tell that Oliver did indeed smell like the beach, and a hint of wet terrier (dammit, the mental image of Oliver running alongside a hyperactive stray made her want to do things to him).

Felicity lowered Cooking to Impress — slightly. “Morning,” she said back, trying her best to be cool and casual, even while half her face was hidden behind a book. “How was your run?”

“Wet,” he answered. “I came back early to see you.”

“I think the universe foresaw that I might blow up your kitchen,” Felicity said, in her best sagely voice.

“Our kitchen,” he corrected.

Our kitchen means that I have to do the cleaning up.”

“You don’t have to do the cleaning up.”

“Really?” Felicity said.

Really,” he said, and there was something in Oliver’s voice that made her feel warm and liquid, like she could slow-dance in the sun with her hands in his, like she was stretched out in their big, white bed with her arms thrown above her head and content to be kissed.

Speaking of kisses. Part of the infallible morning routine was the Welcome Home kiss, whether Felicity was reading on the couch, or perched on the kitchen counter, or still lazing around in bed — Oliver never failed to kiss her hello. The type of kisses varied. Sometimes it was just a quick peck on the lips on his way up to the shower, other times (and Felicity liked these the most) it was a lingering kiss, tasting of languid, unhurried mornings and hours on their hands, with nowhere to be, nothing to do, and nothing to fear. At times like these, it felt like he was making up for all the times their kisses had meant goodbye.

Felicity tipped her head back, just a little, her eyes heavy-lidded, lashes sweeping her cheeks — even though every nerve in her body felt like it could spark like a live wire. With all the serotonin bouncing around inside her skull, Felicity had forgotten about the book — and her slackened grip — until Oliver pulled it from her hands and lifted her straight off the counter, planting her barefoot on the kitchen tiles with one arm, holding it behind his back with the other.

Felicity leaned back at the waist to look up at him, laughing. “Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” she said.

“It is,” Oliver concurred, giving her a glimpse of the book before he whisked it out of sight again.

Oliver-trying-not-to-laugh was a setting Felicity hadn’t quite figured out yet. It was equal parts gratifying, stop-and-stare, and (because she was hardwired that way) arousing. Felicity — clocking in at five feet five inches and an unspecified but comparatively insignificant body weight — knew her advantage, going up against six feet plus of muscle mass and tactile training.

She coiled her arms around Oliver’s middle, not-so-subtly reaching for the book as she leaned the length of her body against his. As far as secret weapons went, the sight of her in one of Oliver’s shirts was the atom bomb of all decisive moves, but failing that, a pair of thin sweatpants and bare shoulders would do the trick just fine.

Felicity bit her lip to stop from smiling at the distraction in Oliver’s stare, as his frankly superhuman senses were bombarded with her closeness. And the fact that she’d snuck her hands up the hem of his hoodie, scraping her nails lightly against his hipbones in the way she knew he liked.

“Felicity,” he said, and she was pleased to hear that his voice had gone scratchy — for reasons that had nothing to do with the non-existent California cold.

“What’s it going to cost me?” she asked, in her best sultry voice.

One of Oliver’s hands slipped against her shirt, grazing an inch or so of exposed midriff. His palm felt hot enough to burn, and Felicity luxuriated in the pleasant shivers dancing up the length of her spine, the responsiveness stirring somewhere in the depths of her belly.

They were both swaying on the spot, almost too distracted by each other’s closeness to answer. But Felicity didn’t need him to. Sometime in the middle of their mutual diversion, Felicity had gotten the answer to her question, and she moved closer still, sliding her thigh up the inside of Oliver’s leg.

Felicity.” Oliver was smiling now, and so was she.

Felicity only bit her lip, raising her eyebrows in a wordless question.

She got her answer when the book landed with a flutter of open pages, and Oliver’s hands were suddenly on her arms — stroking from elbow to wrist — pulling her flush against him with a kind of wordless confidence that made her catch her breath. Felicity teetered on her toes, on the giddy edge of losing her balance, and her head fell back just in time to receive Oliver’s smiling kiss.

Trying-not-to-laugh, teasing, and smile-while-kissing — all Oliver settings Felicity hadn’t quite gotten used to just yet. Not because they were rare, but because every day brought her something new about this rare and complex man, to the point where she was having trouble keeping track of it all — the endless novelty of discovering who Oliver Queen was.

“New discovery,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. “You smile when you kiss now.”

“Is that good?” Oliver asked.

Felicity nodded enthusiastically, making them both laugh. Oliver brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears with his callused fingers, looking down at her upturned face like he was content to stay there for the rest of his days.

“Oliver Queen,” she breathed, and watched his eyes warm at the sound of her saying his name. “Poisonous breakfast aside — how do you feel today?”

Oliver looked over her head for a moment, then back at her, running his thumbs thoughtfully down the sides of her cheeks. “I’m happy,” he said.

Felicity stood on her toes and surprised him with a kiss, simultaneously an apology for cooking disasters and a victory lap for winning the fight over a cookbook. “Good,” she answered.

All in all, a fantastic start to a new day.


Hope you enjoyed it!

anonymous asked:

Hi hello I love you blog and I was wondering if you had any good musicals to recommend? Like I reallllly love Hamilton but now I'm kinda looking for something new?

b Oi!! u came to the right place!!! I have been really digging Falsettos and the Book of Mormon at the moment?? and I’ve got bootlegs for both, my dude!

alright alright, the Book of Mormon has got a satire/comedy vibe and it’s honestly amazing. I loved every second of it, but it isn’t really meant for younger audiences. It has lotsa swear words and kinda controversial themes, but it’s super good, I swea r.
(BoM bootleg: https://vimeo.com/169814545 )

Falsettos is???? so?? fantastic? It’s really cute and has got LGBT couples in it and it’s just,,, oh my gosh, I love it. Just a fair warning, though?? it has a sad ending that made me cry,, a lot,,,, so only watch it if you’re up for being upset.
(Falsettos 2016 revival bootleg: https://drive.google.com/drive/mobile/folders/0B6eYpqwa-hdJVTdQUzBDbkRQcnM
Falsettoland bootleg: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mvrbPkqXJ78 )

here’s the thing, you are gonna meet people and think they’re utterly fantastic. and honestly? they’re gonna turn out exactly opposite. people are gonna let you down, hurt you, make you feel like nothing good ever lasts and they’re going to try and ruin your big heart and sometimes, you’re gonna let them. so you’re gonna be scarred. but the thing is, if someone hurts you and makes you sad more than they make you happy? they are not worth your tears baby. they don’t deserve the right to make you sad, they don’t even deserve to be in your life. so pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and go do something that makes you happy because people are always going to kill to see you fall. that’s life. some people are simply cruel. but you are simply magnificent and wonderful and capable of so many things. so go out, put on red lipstick, paint your nails, and be the lil bad ass you are. show off yourself, rock out in your undies, jam to your favorite music and simply celebrate being YOU. because if you don’t have any sense of self love or self worth, you’re gonna fall and you’re gonna crash. so pick yourself up and look in the mirror and say “damn.” and start making positive changes. life is way too short to spend it hating yourself and even shorter to spend it hating everything around you. the world is lovely, and it’s even more lovely with you in it. love yourself and you’ll be amazed at the changes you see. // love yourself simply so no one else has to, because at the end of the day, you are the only constant thing you have.