The word “brugh” was deeply offensive to Tom. No one who customarily dresses in spotless white linen and a midnight-blue coat, whose nails are exquisitely manicured, whose hair gleams like polished mahogany–in short no one of such refined tastes and delicate habits likes to be reminded that he spent the first two or three thousand years of his existence in a damp dark hole, wearing (when he took the trouble to wear anything at all) a kilt of coarse, undyed wool and a mouldering rabbitskin cloak.*
*The brugh was for countless centuries the common habitation of the fairy race. It is the original of all the fairy palaces one reads of in folktales. Indeed the tendency of Christian writers to glamorize the brugh seems to have increased with the centuries. It has been described as a “fairy palace of gold and crystal, in the heart of the hill” (Lady Wilde, Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms and Superstitions of Ireland, Ward & Downey, London, 1887). Another chronicler of fairy history wrote of “a steep-sided grassy hill, round as a pudding-basin…A small lake on its summit had a crystal floor, which served as a skylight.” (Sylvia Townsend Warner, The Kingdom of Elfin, Chatto & Windus, London, 1977).
The truth is that the brugh was a hole or series of interconnecting holes that was dug into a barrow, very like a rabbit’s warren or badger’s set. To paraphrase a writer of fanciful stories for children, this was not a comfortable hole, it was not even a dry, bare sandy hole; it was a nasty, dirty, wet hole.
Fairies, who are nothing if not resilient, were able to bear with equanimity the damp, the dark and the airlessness, but stolen Christian children brought to the brugh died, as often as not, of suffocation.
While digging through all my boxes and drawers to find my damn crocheting needle, I found my abandoned notebook I used as a journal for all of a month in 2016 before I couldn’t bare to look at it, let alone write in it.
But Tara, what the fuck does that have to do with this lovely Sanvers scene?
Don’t worry. I’ll tell you. I over share all the time and spend far too much time alone/online. It’s coming. Be patient.
This scene was one of the ones that made me start watching the show. I kept seeing the clips and gifs and I watched this clip and it stung in a way. It hurt my heart and it felt so damn familiar and at the time I didn’t 100 percent place why. I mean I had a feeling but, as per usual, Tara kept feelings pushed way way down. (Tara and Alex have that horrible habit in common.)
So how does that tie into the old journal? I found an entry that I wrote a text exchange in because just summarizing a conversation isn’t enough for Tara. She needs it verbatim written down, or at least the parts she deemed most significant.
And it was just… I was Alex and the other person was Maggie and while the words were not exactly the same, they mirrored each other. The sentiments the same. The idea of, if you need me to leave you alone forever, I will, but please hear me out. And the you’re important to me/I care about you stuff.
Except instead of “I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it” it was “I don’t want to stop being a part of each other’s lives.”
But instead of one of us having a near death experience that led to an exchange of feelings and growing closer, I became a scared and insecure lost person who lost her damn mind in ways… and she disappeared. I can’t really blame her though. I spent most of 2016 not wanting to be around me but I have no choice in that matter. I’m kinda stuck with me.
Anyway… if you ever wanted to know why I’m so fucking emotionally invested in this ship… why I suddenly became so super into it… there’s a whole psychological thing in play. It’s catharsis in some ways. It’s wish fulfillment. It’s a brief escape from reality (as most entertainment is, at least for me). But there were just too many parallels between me and Alex for me to not get sucked in. Sometimes it hurts to watch, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… right?
Suggestive Memes | ACCEPTING Send in ⁇ for my muse’s reaction to walking in on yours while bathing
☠〖ᴇᴠɪʟ ʙᴏʏ ɢᴇɴɪᴜs〗☠ Who honestly needed a lair this complex ? Jack understood the need for space, but the fact he couldn’t find a single thing he was looking for the same general vicinity of where it seemed needed, was just a little bit irritating. Doors opened and closed, archways were peaked through, big cats were eyed suspiciously. Where in the heck was Chase ?
❝ You’d think with ALL these cats around, at least one would tell him I’m HERE. What’s the use of minions if they aren’t COURTEOUS? ❞ Talking to himself was becoming a common habit given his usual company of incorporeal witchyness having disappeared on him. His eyes dragged along the high marble walls, which carried his footsteps with such finality he felt the need to walk even softer. Turning a corner, he whispered furiously as a Tiger padded by with something in its jaws, ❝ Or tell me where he is… Unless he’s not HERE… Chase wouldn’t trust me in his lair alone already would he ? Hmmm… ❞
He stepped to the next archway and was met with a muggy heat as he peered his head inside. Some kind of sauna he guessed, blinking his unaccustomed eyes through the steam as he stepped inside.
Jack had begun leaving his thick black clothes at home, given the heat of Chases layer, but this room was something else. It must’ve been hooked straight into the volcanos core, dampening his brow with sweat, leaving even his red tank a mite too warm.
Through the steam he could see another archway, something like a pool on the other side. Hot springs then, or so it seemed. Almost exploring at this point, the genius leaned against the wall to pull off his shoes ( to avoid slipping ), before approaching the next room.
It was huge. Retail worthy. If Jack took over the world any time soon, he’d definitely want Chases lair to become some kind of high class resort. As he began to walk towards it, he noticed something near the middle. A mass of dark tresses and sandy skin. His head craned forward, stopping in his tracks.
Chase, in nothing less than what nature intended, hair fanned around him like some kind of artistic oil spill. Skin wet, glistening, face turned slightly away and at peace. He had to be sitting on something under the water, half his body above the surface, not that the crystalline depths left anything to the imagination.
Jacks sucked in a breath and what was left of his blood rushed uncomfortably to the pit of his stomach. He felt too hot and yet shivered all the same, taking a few hesitant steps backwards. But given his luck, the ground was not marble. It was natural smooth stone and as he stepped further back, his heel caught on an insignificant dip in the floor.
So much for taking his shoes off to avoid slippage, as he fell back and promptly cracked his head against the stone walls with a yelp. The strap of his goggles to half the brunt, but it still hurt like a bitch. And now he was going to be yelled at. Great. Excuse him as he just– Curls up on the ground pathetically, clutching the back of his head and wheezing:
This is Mischief the White-Necked Raven. These ravens are found
throughout eastern and southern Africa, and are common near human
Like all members of the Corvidae family, ravens are
extremely intelligent. They use tools to get food if necessary, and can
even mimic human speech!
Cool facts about White-Necked Ravens:
Their main diet is fruit, insects, and small reptiles, but if they find
a small tortoise to eat, they will lift it up and drop it to the ground
to break the shell.
- Ravens are some of the smartest of all animals.
- Since they are very social by nature, ravens are also some of the most playful of birds.
Ravens display a strange behavior in the wild called “anting”. They
roll around on anthills, let the ants crawl all over them, and then they
chew up the ants and rub them through their feathers. Scientists are
unsure why they do this.
Singular “they,” the gender-neutral pronoun, has been named the Word of the Year by a crowd of over 200 linguists at the American Dialect Society’s annual meeting in Washington, D.C. on Friday evening.
In a landslide vote, the language experts chose singular they over “thanks, Obama,” ammosexual, “on fleek,” and other contenders for this annual award given to the most significant term or word in the past year.
Earlier, the so-called proper way to say it would have been, “Everyone wants his or her cat to succeed.”
But what gave this word new prominence was its usefulness as a way to refer to people who don’t want to be called “he” or “she.”
“We know about singular they already — we use it everyday without thinking about it, so this is bringing it to the fore in a more conscious way, and also playing into emerging ideas about gender identity,” said linguist Ben Zimmer, language columnist for the Wall Street Journal, who presided over the voting this Friday afternoon.
Old-fashioned grammarians will be disappointed. But others will be shouting:YAAASSSSS!(intj. “expression of excitement, approval or strong agreement”)
Earlier Friday, Zimmer said a win for singular they would also symbolize how mainstream culture has come to recognize and accept transgender and gender fluid people, some of whom reject traditional pronouns.
“It encapsulates different trends that are going on in the language,” he says. “It’s a way of identifying something that’s going on in the language which ties to issues of gender identity and speaks to other ways that people are using language to express themselves and present their identity.
The Post’s style guide ratified this usage last month, which caused some grammar pedants to shriek. But as Post copy editor Bill Walsh explained, the singular they is “the only sensible solution to English’s lack of a gender-neutral third-person singular personal pronoun.”
If you feel like you have been emotionally abused, it is VALID. Gas-lighting is a common habit of abusers, just because they say they are not abusing you doesn’t mean it’s true. Your feelings are valid simply because you feel them. I want other people who have been abused to remember this, because I spent YEARS thinking I was over reacting, making it up, dissociating and feeling like my emotions aren’t real because of an abuser and it is absolute hell. And people can still abuse you even after you’ve been through abuse, and it’s not your fault that yet another person has done this to you. I just want people to know this.
Back on the advice train today. Avoid this common habit and bane to a bearded dudes existence. Quite often your beard will be itchy or you will feel the need to stroke your chin or tweak your moustache. We all have the NAGGING little itch. Try and avoid this if possible. If your beard gets itchy, give it a light rub, apply some beard oil/balm and make sure you are drinking enough water to help with dry skin issues. Pulling or scratching your beard excessively can lead to skin irritation or what i like to call “sore beard” or “pain-in-the-stache”. Essentially your beard starts to bloody hurt. What has happened is you have pulled the hair follicle and irritated it. Its your bodies way of saying hey dude quit that shit!! Continued irritation can lead to beard-druff and ingrown hairs which nobody wants.
To summarise, keep hydrated, apply beard oil and avoid excessive scratching or pulling of your beard.
Beard on and enjoy your hard earned beard growth and admiration fellas.
It sucks not having friends who share your hobbies? How did you cope with this?
Getting more hobbies and getting more friends. Realizing that I don’t need my existing hobbies to be validated by anyone else.
I don’t know how many people realize this, but I know an absurd amount about action figures. In high school, I read action figure websites daily. It was like a form of mental collection. I couldn’t afford to go out and buy action figures, so I kind of memorized them.
That’s not a super common habit, so I generally kept that hobby to myself, and while I’ve had friends who appreciate a nice collectible or two, it’s always been a special treat when I’ve met someone else in real life who knows their shit. I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve met in my lifetime who’ve been able to talk toys on my level, and who weren’t total fucking weirdos. It’s one of the ways Scott Bromley and I first bonded.
Surprisingly enough, I’ve probably met more girls who’ve been huge action figure nerds. One of them’s dating my childhood best friend, another’s engaged to Scott’s childhood best friend, and the other is a Suicide Girl-turned-public defender.
Short answer, though, is your friends and your hobbies aren’t mutually exclusive. I fucking love Harry Potter but most serious Harry Potter fans are fucking insufferable. Meanwhile, I don’t give a wet shit about Doctor Who, but a ton of my good friends are full-blown Whovians.
(150707) @realjonghyun90: i saw all three endings of “bloodborne”… and the end for “the last of us”. the’re both wicked games… the music-y is so good too… the tension on your heard is no joke…. (s/n: jonghyun said “music” in a cute way by adding an “-ee” ending. this is a common speech pattern / habit for little kids in particular. “심장쫄깃함” is an idiom. literally, it translates to your heart being “chewy,” but it’s just an expression for feeling tense — like your heart is pounding or being squeezed.) (source: sullaem)
*slams fist on table* Overwatch for FR/UK Nonsense!!! p-please
It’s become a common habit for Tracer to zip up behind Widowmaker, lean on her shoulder and greet her with ‘alright, Froggie?’. The first time this happened, Widowmaker grabbed her arm, pivoted on one heel, and threw her to the ground- now, thanks to a speedy rewind or two, things proceed a little more equitably.
“Lucio is the one with the frog symbol.” Widowmaker points out, more amused than irritated.
“Yeah, but you’re the French one, ain’t ya?” Tracer blows her hair out of her eyes- she really must get it trimmed one of these days. “Makes more sense for you, love.”
“And how would you like it if I called you rosbif?”
“It’d be fair.” Tracer shrugs, casual despite the fact she’s currently using one of the most dangerous women on the planet as an armrest. “Wouldn’t be nice, mind, but- sure.”
“And if I called you a badly-dressed little imp with terrible hair?” Widowmaker smiles- just a hint of fang glimmering at the corner of her mouth. Tracer grins back.
“I’d say it’s probably a cultural thing that you ran away from our first two fights.”
Widowmaker runs a tongue over her lips, considering her next move and delivering the insult as methodically as she ever would a bullet.
Tracer staggers back, hand clutched over her chronal accelerator in lieu of her heart- exaggerated horror giving way to a fit of the giggles.
“You French!” She laughs, and Widowmaker can’t help but chuckle too. “So bloody rude!”
Mulder: Pack your bags, Scully, we’re headed to Vancouver.
Scully: What’s in Vancouver?
Mulder: (Tosses file on desk) Look.
Scully: Mulder, you can’t be serious.
Mulder: Three different women, all different ages, nothing in common, except similar tumblr habits and this: All three report that their computers started playing something on their own. Each heard the same thing: Felicity, said multiple times in different tones.
Scully: You’re talking about the Arrow Season Four trailer, Mulder. Everyone knows it’s just an urban legend.
…also known as the Nibble Fish, Kagnal Fish or Bonefish, the doctor fish is a species of cyprinid fish native to the river basins and hot springs of the Northern and Central Middle East, mainly Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Oman. This species gets its common name from its habit of feeding on the skin of humans, as such in some places they are used as a spa treatment to help people with psoriasis. However the treatment is not curative, and there is debate on its validity. In the wild G. rufa will feed on small crustaceans, rotifers, and various other small invertebrates.
Mod note: a common disordered habit is to cook for other people just to smell/see/experience the food without eating it. Try not to do this! Cooking for other people is fine but if you want the food then go ahead and have some!