cool times and life as always

maryloubird  asked:

There is a song by The Fast Romantics called "Why we fight" and ever since the first time I heard the song on the radio, I always thought it really fits Jamie and Claire's passionate relationship, and would make a really good AU prompt or fic. Do love all the mod's writing! :)

In our bedrooms we are free
deep in the guts of me
I love you violently
until the dawn’s early light

This is why we fight

Cool, fresh air whipped Claire’s face, the mad curls of her hair pushing free, her whole body thrumming with *life.*

Still she urged her horse to go even faster, galloping across the open field, leaping over streams and shearing the tops off wildflowers. Chasing the horizon.

So alive – and free – and full of joy.

Especially because of the man racing on his horse beside her – his red curls whipping around that fine, strong jaw she ached so deeply to touch, his blue eyes smiling in disbelief at her antics.

For she trusted him with her courage, and her daring, and her thirst for life. And he cherished them for the rare gifts that they were.

They hobbled the horses in their customary spot – a glade within the trees, on the far edge of the estate. Very private.

Three years now they had raced their horses – challenged each other. Always ending up at this same spot, which he had discovered by accident and which she loved as the one place she felt safe.

For here it did not matter that she was Lady Claire MacKenzie, wife of Lord Callum MacKenzie, an intimate of the King’s and one of the largest landowners on the border with Scotland.

It did not matter that he was Sir James MacKenzie Fraser, nephew of the Lord (via an acknowledged bastard line), an outlaw from his native Scotland come into the service of his feeble-bodied uncle. Who protected that which was valued most dear – the Lady Claire, sole heiress of the Beauchamp lands that had been subsumed into the MacKenzie holdings upon their marriage five years previously.

In this glade – cut off from the manor, and Court, and the stables, and everyone who constantly sought to isolate them and mold them into people they did not want to be – he was Jamie, and she was Claire, and they found refuge in each other.

“Tell me again,” she whispered, watching him play with the fingers of her right hand. Settled against a live oak whose trunk was wide enough to cradle the both of them – miles from prying ears – they dreamed.

“We’d sleep in my parents’ room,” he began, “in the bed I was born in. I’d wake ye wi’ the dawn – just when it’s light enough to see yer bonny face – and love ye, quiet, as the sun came up.”

She swallowed, and he dug his nail into the lines of her palm. She gasped.

“And ye’d ken in that moment just how much I love ye, Claire.” His voice rasped hot against her neck. His face turned against her cheek, nuzzling. “I’d freeze that moment in time, if I could – if it meant forever. Forever wi’ ye.”

She squeezed his fingers – watched his knuckles pop white – wanting. Wanting so much more than she could ever offer him.

“And then I’d hold you so close to me,” she swallowed. “Not believing what we have is real.”

Claire inhaled deeply – then released. “And then we’d need to scramble for our clothes because the children would come in.”

She felt his smile. “Aye – all of them, all at once. The eldest holding the youngest by the hand – settling into bed wi’ us.”

“And we’d hold them, and love them – let them know how much they were wanted.”  

“Because they are a blessing from God. And they will have choice over everything in their lives – how to live, where to live. What to do. Who to marry.”

Jamie undid the button at her wrist, snaking one large finger to trace the fine blue veins there. So soft.

“And then breakfast – and then you’d be off to tend to the animals, and check on the fields.”

“Aye – and then ye’d come wi’ me, bringing all the children, and yer wee basket of herbs too. Because ye never ken when ye’ll find something ye can use for yer healing.”

They knew this story – what would, could, would never be their story – by heart. It was woven from so many hours of loneliness – longing for the life they may have had, had dreams been reality.

Claire didn’t realize her eyes were shut – or that she had been crying – until Jamie began kissing her tears away.

She swallowed down a sob – but he knew, he always knew.

“Will we still be dreaming of this life when we are old and grey, Jamie?”

He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Is this – this moment now – all we will ever have?”

He kissed the edge of her mouth.

“Why do I keep dreaming of a life with you, when I know it will never come?”

He untied her bonnet, gently setting it on the grass, caressing her temples, gathering bunches of her curls into his capable hands.

“Ye keep me alive. And I ken I do the same for ye.”

He brought her brow to his, fingers tangled in her hair.

“That’s why. Even if it crushes yer heart, *mo nighean donn*. I canna live in a world wi’out ye in it.”

“But I want you to be my *whole* world.”

Fresh tears spilled. And he kissed them away again.

“Ye are, for me. Nothing matters more to me than yer happiness.”

Bravely he settled his hands on her hips – or where her hips would be, had she not been covered with so damn many layers of skirts and petticoats.

“Callum is no’ much longer for this world – everyone kens he marrit ye so that ye could tend him. You know as well as anyone – he’s no’ getting any better.”

She swallowed. “No.”

“So – when he dies, then that is our chance.”

“And what if he does not die soon?” Now her eyes opened, whisky eyes – the eyes that could get him drunk with just one glance – flashing. “He has already outlived all expectations. And then there’s Dougal – ”

“What about him?”

“You know that he’ll make a claim on me the instant Callum dies. And he’ll force me to accept him.”

“No’ if I have any say in it!” Jamie drew back, suddenly flushed. “Ye are no’ a plaything, Claire! Ye are a person – a whole, beautiful person – and – ”

“With the Beauchamp lands hanging around my neck,” she interrupted. Bitter.

“It’s my job to protect ye.” His voice was careful – measured – anger kept barely in check. “I love ye, Claire. I will fight for ye – Christ, I’d gladly *die* for ye, if ye’d let me. And if I canna protect ye at that moment – when ye’d need it the most – then I canna protect ye at all.”

He turned away, back hunched, head in his hands.

She knew better than to touch him.

“That’s why I’ve never even kissed ye, Claire. When the time comes, I want there to be no doubt. No whispers about yer virtue – no stains on yer character. For I may be many things, but I’d never play another man false. No’ where his wife is concerned.”

She crossed her legs beneath her voluminous gown, hands folded in her lap. Wanting so badly to comfort him – but damn him, he was right.

“And between now and then?”

Slowly he sat up – then crawled over to her – and took her hands in his.

“We race – and we dream – and we plan. We’ve never decided on names for the children.”

That got her to laugh – and his heart leapt at the sound of it.

“I do love you, you know.”

He kissed the back of one hand – and then the back of the other.

“I hope our son has a heart as selfless as yours.”

He smiled at her – and the world stopped.

“I hope our daughter will be as strong and confident as her mother,” he whispered.

The race back to the manor house was long over – and both horses slowed to a trot as they glided through the main gates.

Jamie was just behind her – befitting his station.

The stable lads were waiting to help her off her horse.

She slid to the dirt – and they bowed.

“Thank you, Sir James,” she called up to her knight, sitting quite still atop his mount.

He nodded in deference to her station.

And then she disappeared into the manor.

Jamie balled her handkerchief – which she had used to dry her brow after their race this morning, and then pressed into his hand as he helped her tie on her bonnet before leaving the glade – in his fist.

Through the upstairs window, he watched Claire enter Callum’s study and curtsy before his desk.

He said a quick prayer, then stepped out of the saddle, and led the horse to the stables to be cared for.

i have a lot of lars coming home headcanons but consider these:

lars hugging his parents? telling them he loves them? just not letting go for a very long time

lars finishing highschool and going to culinary school and becoming an honest to goodness baker

buck dewey complimenting lars’ pinkness. it’s super cool, bingo-bongo

lars glowing in the dark when sour cream throws raves

lars and ronaldo burying the hatchet because life is just too fucking short, y'know? ronaldo interviews lars for his blog and dubs him a hero and the whole town reads about it when it somehow ends up in the paper

lars bringing kiki and jenny free doughnuts and other baked goods after their shift. twins always save him a few slices of pizza

lars spending the night with sadie and just resting his head on her chest to hear a heartbeat again

bubbitlife  asked:

Hi, how are you? If the askbox is open: How would it be if 2D's S/O was shamed of her legs? She uses knee socks and pants all the time because she is afraid of people judging her legs due to she has a lot of bruises and bandaids (Hello Kitty's bandaids are her favorites). Thank you for your hard work in this blog that males me smile a lot ♡ you're awesome and adorable♡ (Oh, the reason her legs are injured? Well, be free to imagine something cool, I belive in u ;)

thank u!!!

also, this is basically my life story, except im not embarrassed. im so clumsy and i mess up while shaving a lot, it’s a time i tell ya

2D:

  • Your legs have always been bruised and bandaged, which makes you kind of embarrassed. Every other girl has nice, smooth legs, and you have… Cuts, scrapes, and huge bruises.
  • “Love, you don’t need to hide your legs,” 2D would say, trying to peel off one of your socks. “Lemme see those bandaids, yeah?”
  • Since Stu is pretty used to being somewhat insecure and whatnot, he tries to build you up as much as he possibly can. It’s hard struggling with parts about yourself that you don’t like.
  • When Stu brings up the question of why your legs are always cut and bruised, you have only one answer: You’re pretty clumsy.
  • From table corners to scraping your knees on the concrete, none of your injuries can avail you. You never think to watch where you’re going, anyways.
  • 2D loves putting Hello Kitty and Scooby Doo bandaids on your shins. Sometimes, when you’re feeling down (and possibly kind of childish), he makes sure to put bandaids on himself, too. It makes you feel better.

anonymous asked:

(1) Hi Viria, I hope you are well :) I am sorry to bother you with this, but it's really important for me, and I wanted to share it with you. It'll be long and kinda sad at first, but it gets better, trust me. I'm a 23 y/o latina art student. When I was a baby, my mom left my dad and remarried, and my little sister was born when I was 10. She is the light of my life and I love her to no end. Our mom, however, had had and undiagnosed and untreated mental illness for years, and one day

(2) during a severe crisis she hurt us really bad. I was 12. She was taken away to a psychiatric hospital and Child Services prohibited her from ever getting near us again. Since then, I have been taking care of my little sister and practically raised her while my stepdad worked 2-3 shifts to afford our education and payment for my mom’s hospital, living and meds. He was always working and I took full responsibility for my sis. As you can imagine, even though I loved her with my life, 

 (3) the situation was very stressful and exhausting for me. By the time I was 15, I looked every bit a teen mom. One particularly hard night when my little sis had been crying about mom, I couldn’t sleep. So I turned to something that calmed me: the Harry Potter books. I read them online, and somehow ended up searching for HP fanart. That was the night I stumbled upon your DA account. And boy, did I love it! I know back in 2011 your skills weren’t what they are now,

(4) but I was blown away, and what’s more, I felt inspired to draw. I had never tried to make any art before; it wasn’t “my thing”. But that night, you inspired me. As time went by I kept drawing and closely followed your improvements. Your art was so relaxing, calming, and inspiring, that it really helped me during hard times. You kinda dragged me into all the cool fandoms, series and animes, and I found life to be far more bearable with so many awesome things to love and think about.

(5) Your DA and Tumblr were some sort of safe sapce for me. It always cheered me up and gave me joy, peace, inspiration. When the time came, I choose to study Art at college. It turned out you did too, and you kept up all the good stuff in your blogs. Weirdly enough, I kept feeling a sense of pride whenever you improved and got better. I was so strange that you were so so far away and didn’t even know I existed but you helped me so much.

(6) I got accepted at my country’s top University to study Fine Arts; I moved cities and took my sister with me; she grew into a wonderful, sensible, peaceful child, and her presence motivated me to be the best version of myself, while your art motivated me to keep expanding my academic/artistic abilities. Life was hard but good at college, and I had incredible opportunities. I am graduating this spring with an advanced studies specialization, and was recently hired to work at

(7) of a movie. It’s like living a dream. And tonight, just a couple hours ago, the most incredible thing happened. After dinner, my little sis came to me, phone in hand, and said “Hey Ana, you won’t believe what I found. There’s this girl who makes amazing art of all the fandoms you’re in. Her drawings are gorgeous and she has so many!”. She showed me your tumblr. I wanted to laugh and cry. She was amazed when she saw your old drawings and your current ones; speechless.

(8) She fell in love, and you know what? Immediatly after, she went to draw. She’s been doing so the past hours. I know this was offensively long, but Viria, I needed to thank you for what you did. Your art has always been SO much more than just digital drawings of fictional characters. It’s been the source of peace, safety and joy that so many of us crave. You have wonderfully impacted and influenced many people across the world with everything you make.

(9) I am so glad you exist and do what you do; you gave me the hobby that grew into my passion, thaught me so much, inspired me beyond belief and most of all, you helped make life more bearable. And now, you have made the same for my sister. Viria, the world wouldn’t be the same without you. You are truly a magnificent light among us, and for your existence and passion I’ll be forever grateful. Thank you, and may you always live the beautiful, happy, awesome life you deserve. Thank you.


I’m not even kidding I was sitting here peacefully chewing sandwich and by the end of these messages the sandwich was too salty so was my cappuccino I swear you got me to tears and now i’m just like

I’m a shaking emotional leaf but thank you so much for writing me! It means so much and i’m so touched and i just wish you and your sister all the best of luck, though it seems like you don’t really need it. Thank you, and I hope life goes wonderfully for you and your family! 

After some thinking, I want to politely point out a few things to those of you saying Touka and Kaneki’s sex scene was rushed and meaningless.

Did kaneki and touka rush into having sex? Yes. But that’s entirely the point - in no way does that make it meaningless or perverted.

Kaneki and Touka have seen all of this happen before. Their hideout has been found. Their faces have been unmasked. Kaneki is the most wanted ghoul in Japan, and this is pretty much the beginnings of war for them. People are going to die. And they both know it can be either one of them at any time. Neither of them were going to wait for the “perfect moment, ” not when there’s a good chance that neither of them will live to see it.

What you’ve got to remember is that people don’t always make the best decisions when it comes to sex. More often than not, people get caught up in the moment and do it before they should do. This rushed nature is actually quite realistic. Even with Yorirko’s life hanging, Touka is keeping cool because she knows jumping to conclusions and being rash will do no good - she’s seen this before with Hinami’s mother.

Touka has experienced enough loss to know that she has to live for the living, and do whatever she can to keep those people alive. Sure, she’ll fight to protect kaneki, but that isn’t always what it’s about; with kaneki being suicidal in the past, she’s trying her best to give him an incentive to live. She’s letting Kaneki know that he’s loved even though she struggles to express anything other than her primal emotions. Kaneki needs to know that he’s loved right now. If there was anything more about Hide right now, it would be a bad turn for kaneki since he’d be living for the dead. It’s so important that he learns other people than Hide care for him that I’m shocked that people actually want Hide related stuff instead of this. Even though Touken wasn’t my favourite ship, I’m so happy because this is such an important hurdle for Kaneki’s character being overcome.

So yes, they rushed into having sex. However, I honestly feel this was a perfectly natural action for two broken people under pressure. They weren’t going to wait when there is a good chance there wasn’t going to be any other time for them. They both wanted to do it. Even if this is a sort of humorous thing to add remember they were virgins in their twenties as well; touka has done enough waiting on Kaneki, haha.

Please stop saying that their relationship is meaningless compared to his and Hide’s because it just isn’t true. The only other time Kaneki cried during a happy time was their first visit to :Re when he was so relieved to see Touka alive and he thought about what a beautiful person she was. After this, Haise gazed at her the same way Kaneki gazed at Rize - which Kaneki didn’t deny. If this doesn’t show how much Kaneki loves touka then I don’t know what will.

I’m honestly so proud of Touka for being so bold and collected here. She’s developed in so many ways. Sometimes, when written well, sex can really bond characters in books. While it remains to be seen, I’m really excited to see their relationship change and, hopefully, kaneki opening up to her by learning that people other than Hide love him. This is a good turn of events for both of them.

I’m so happy with the way Nancy turned out. The response to her is really satisfying. A lot of times, there’s a lot of damsel and victim roles around. It was nice for me to get to play a girl who finds her strength, who is really courageous and does cool things. I was really happy with that. I hope that I brought that to life in some way. Nancy is all badass. I always love to give credit to the Duffers for giving the backbone to that character.

anonymous asked:

You promise me that all of this is temporary?

Yes, I promise.
Keep in mind that this goes both ways; for good and bad. You need to appreciate and cherish the good times when you have them. Take advantage of your positive energy. Marvel in the beauty you see in your surroundings. Love. Laugh. Smile. Make friends. Build something cool. Pursue a passion. See the world for all of that the opportunities it possess. And, when life is bad, just down right shitty, be consoled in the fact that life won’t always be this rough. Your heart will mend, you will make new friends. Your grades will improve and life will be more figured out and complete soon. Just be patient. You got this :)
Xoxo,
Cwote

anonymous asked:

Maybe some time you could talk about Susan and what it would be like if she didn't desert Narnia

How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn’t deserted Susan?

What if, instead of sending a stag to lead them astray, the Pevensies had been given time to end their first rule– to have finished their reports, their negotiations and treaties, that letter in the bureau Lucy was half-done penning to Mrs. Beaver to thank her for the fruitcake and to ask about her grandchildren. 

They had lived there more than a decade then, grown from children to kings and queens, to brave young adults with responsibility heavy on their shoulders. They had lived through storms and wars, peace and joy, lost friends to battle and old age and distance. They had made a home. What if they had been given time to say good-bye? 

What if we didn’t tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn’t have again. 

There is nothing wrong with Lucy loving Narnia all her life, refusing an adulthood she didn’t want for a braver, brighter one she built herself. But there is also nothing wrong with Susan trying to find something new to fall in love with, something that might love her back. 

You can build things in lipsticks and nylons, if you don’t mind getting a few runs in them. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty, especially when pretty is the only power left to you. 

Let’s talk about being the last one left. No, really, think about it. You get a call in the middle of the night, in the little flat you can just barely afford, and you are told there has been an accident. 

Think about it, that moment– you scramble over everyone you know, everyone you love, and try to figure out where they all are that night. There are things rushing in your gut, your fingertips, your lungs, your ears– there are words in your ears as the tinny, sympathetic voice starts to tell you: it is everyone. 

They were on a train. Something went wrong. They probably died instantly. A rushing sound. A bright light. (You try to imagine it, for years. You try not to think about it. You imagine it, for years–a rushing sound, a bright light.)

Your little sister, who you always felt the most responsible for, who you never understood, really– Your big brother, who disapproved of your choices but loved you with a steadiness you could never regret leaning into– Your little brother, a smug and arrogant ass except for the days when he drowned in self doubt– Ed was going to go far and you knew it, were waiting for it, were shoring up your defenses and your eye rolls for the days when he’d think he ruled the world–

Your mother is gone. Your father, with his stuffy cigar smell and big hands and the way he got distracted telling stories– he is gone. Your cousin Eustace, who suddenly lost that stick in his ass one summer. That friend of his, Jill, who you’d never actually quite met. Gone. A rushing sound. A bright light. 

Go on. Walk through this with me. You can’t sleep all night long, because you still can’t understand it, still can’t quite breathe in a world where you are the last Pevensie. You finally fade sometime between midnight and dawn and when you wake up you don’t remember for half a second. You think ugh and you think sunshine why and then you remember that you are an orphan, an only child. You remember there probably isn’t anyone else to handle the funeral arrangements. 

Get up. Make tea. Forget to eat breakfast and feel nauseous and empty all day. Call the people who need to be called. Your work, to ask for the time off. The mortuary, to ask about closed caskets. Distant relations. Friends. Edmund’s girlfriend and Peter’s boss. You listen to Lucy’s friends weep hysterics into the phone while you stare out the kitchen window and drink your fourth cup of tea. You call Professor Diggory, out at the old house with the wardrobe that started it all, and it rings and rings. You don’t find out for three days that he died in the train crash too. When you do, you stare at the newspaper article. You think of course

You are twenty one years old. You have ruled a kingdom, fought and won and prevented wars, survived exile and school and your first day as a working woman. Nothing has ever felt worse than this. You have a necklace in your dresser you meant to give your mother, because she loves rubies and this glass is painted a nice ruby red and it is all you can afford on your tiny wages. 

Excuse me, a correction: she loved rubies. She is dead. You never wear the necklace. You cry yourself to sleep for weeks. The first night you don’t cry, the first morning you wake up rested, you feel guilty. You wonder if that will live in the pit of your stomach all your life and you don’t know. The years reach out in front of you, miles and eons of loss. You are on the very shore of this grief and you do not know how you will survive feeling like this for the rest of your life. But you will survive it. 

Get up. Make tea. Make yourself eat breakfast. Make plans with a school friend to do lunch. Go to work and try to bury yourself in the busyness of it. Remember that you’d promised to lend Peter a hand with some task or other, but you don’t even remember what it was– Collapse. Hide in the bathroom until you’re breathing again. Redo your makeup and leave work the moment your shift is over. Drop your nylons and your sweater and your heels in the apartment hallway. Fall into bed and pull the covers over your head. 

Get up. Make tea. Eat. Don’t think about them for weeks. Don’t feel guilty when you remember. Feel proud. Spend an indulgent weekend in your pajamas, reading Lucy’s favorite novel and making Ed’s favorite cookies and remembering the way your mother smelled and how it always made you feel safe. Love them and miss them and mourn them. Keep breathing. Cry, but wash your face after in cool water. Wake in the morning to birdsong and spend three hours making breakfast just the way you like it. 

Imagine the next birthday, the next Christmas, the next time you hit one of those days that herald the passage of time, that tell you how much you’ve grown and how much they haven’t. 

Lucy, Peter, and Edmund will be at the same height for the rest of your life. Lucy will always be seventeen for the second time. You see, you think you know, when you lose them, what the dagger in you feels like. But it grows with you, that ache. You grow with it, too, learn how to live with that at your side but it grows, that ache, finds new ways to twist– 

At the first friend’s wedding you go to, you cry because it’s lovely, those two smiling and promising and holding hands– but you also cry because you wonder what Lucy would have looked like in white, joyous and smiling and promising the rest of her life to a boy who deserved her. 

Go on. You tell me if Susan deserted a world or if a whole life deserted her. You tell me who was left behind. 

So yes, let’s talk about it– what if Narnia hadn’t deserted Susan? What if lipstick and nylons were things worn and not markers of worth? 

What if we had a story that told little girls they could grow up to be anything they wanted– all of Lucy’s glory and light, Susan’s pretty face and parties, the way Jill could move so quiet and quick through the trees? 

Because you know, some of those little girls? They were the little mothers, too old for their age, who worried and wondered, who couldn’t believe like Lucy or charge like Jill. Susan was reasonable, was hesitant and beautiful and gentle, was pretty and silly and growing up, and for it she was lost. She was left. And when Susan was left, so were they. 

The little girls who worried louder than they loved, who were nervous about climbing trees and who would never run after the mirage of a lion, who looked at the pretty women in the grocery store and wondered if they would grow up pretty too– some of them looked at their little clever doubting hands, after they read Peter and Eustace and Jill scoffing at Susan’s vanities, and they wondered what they were worth. 

Imagine a Narnia that believed in all of them. Imagine a Narnia that believed in adult women, lipsticked or not. Imagine Susan teaching Jill how to string a bow, arms straining. Imagine her brushing blush on Lucy’s cheeks, the first time Lu went out walking with a boy she was considering falling in love with. Imagine that when the last door to Narnia was shut, there was not a sister left behind. 

people generally get tattoos for one of two reasons. either a) it’s for someone important in their life, or b) they think that certain piece of art is cool and they direly want that forever inscribed on their body.

but every time I look at ral’s artwork my first thought always lands on that goddamn meme “who is she

so… who are they. who is this dragon. i can’t quite tell if ral’s the kind of guy to say “hey the izzet guild has plenty of cool dragons, i want one on my arm forever” or “me and this dragon in particular go way back. that dragon is a huge prick. that’s why the tail goes down my middle finger. fuck that dragon.”

Sitting down to work and suddenly hearing “Hey, you’re not busy, can you-” from the doorway

Originally posted by slytherin-bookworm-guy

This is a poem for the nice Jewish girl
You are taught three things that you cannot even remember learning you have known them so long
1)your nose is ugly
2)you should be on your best behavior at family parties as you represent your family
3)there was a war to kill everyone like you a long time before you were born
These things inform everything you do for example
1)if someone tells you you don’t look Jewish you must take it as a compliment
2)you are naturally shyer and more socially conscious
3)you have constant nightmares of that war for the rest of your life
The nice Jewish girl goes to Hebrew school at age five or six and learns her aleph bet
The nice Jewish girl is happy to tell her friends what Hanukkah is and why we don’t have school so much in September and how to pronounce “challah”
The nice Jewish girl lights the shabbos candles every friday night and says words in a language she barely understands
The nice Jewish girl is pretty, pretty in a way that her grandma pinches her cheeks and calls her a “shayna maidel”
The nice Jewish girl is not sexy and she is meant to laugh and privately call the girls who wear too much eyeliner to the bat mitzvahs “sluts”
The nice Jewish girl feels stuck between the secular world and the religious world but she doesn’t ever say that
The nice Jewish girl hates going to Hebrew School though she’d never make a fuss but moans about it to her goyische friends at school
The nice Jewish girl smiles politely when asked her opinion on Israel and changes the subject
The nice Jewish girl has pennies dropped around her in all of seventh grade by some kid claiming to be her friend and all she does is stand there with her mouth gaping open when he reveals this was his “Jew test”
The nice Jewish girl picks up none of the pennies and passes his test as triumphantly as possible
The nice Jewish girl doesn’t tell anyone that they’re always yelling at home and she never feels good enough and the walls are too small in her tiny brooklyn house and she just wants them all to stop
The nice Jewish girl always has her curly hair and her big nose even when it’s inconvenient because no amount of hair straighteners and brushing and makeup can make them go away
The nice Jewish girl sits in the corner, flicking through her iphone, as the music’s too loud and the lights too bright for her to enjoy the bar or bat mitzvah she’s been dragged to
The nice Jewish girl feels like she knows no one and nobody knows her
The nice Jewish stiffens when a holocaust joke is made but says nothing
She goes into the bathroom later to cry and feels like she may throw up
The nice Jewish girl does not throw up
When a friend makes a comment about how the Jews ruined Germany’s economy and that’s why Hitler came after them and the nice Jewish girl wants to SCREAM
She straightens her spine and lifts her chin and politely corrects her with the grace of Esther or Ruth
The nice Jewish girl’s friend does not understand and contradicts her and she wants to tear her own skin off and feels her forehead heating up and pins pricking her
The nice Jewish girl is every untold story in a mass grave from France to Italy to Germany and Poland
The nice Jewish girl isn’t special, she isn’t a phoenix waiting to rise from the ashes, she will not transform into someone cool or beautiful
The nice Jewish girl will always be awkward and shy and mediocre
The nice Jewish girl will simply have to live with herself
The nice Jewish girl lives and dies a normal life making charoset and speaking out only at meetings at the local Jewish Center and works some nice liberal arts job
The nice Jewish girl will marry a nice Jewish boy and hug her children tight with fear
The nice Jewish girl will shake every time she turns on the news and hears they are chanting “gas the Jews” in France
The nice Jewish girl will pass this pain onto her daughter and the nice Jewish girl’s daughter will be just like her
The nice Jewish girl will hate herself and hate her own hate
The nice Jewish girl is me
The nice Jewish girl is you
The nice Jewish girl never existed in the first place
—  A spoken word poem I wrote for my English class
Snufkin

Snufkin is one of the most iconic and popular Moomin character. He first appears in the book Comet in Moominland (1946) and if one of the characters who appears in almost all media; comics, animations, additional stories… Snufkin is the child of Joxter and Mymble, which makes him a younger half-brother of both Mymble’s daughter and Little My. Some adaptations remove his relation to the Mymbles, such as comics and 1990s animated series.


Snufkin was created when Tove Jansson was in a relationship with Atos Wirtanen, a left-wing politician, journalist and cultural critic. Snufkin’s wide smile, pipe and hat are modeled after Atos. Snufkin’s independent and bohemian way of living is similar to both Atos and Tove but it’s also apparent that Tove’s little brother Lars was also a model for Snufkin. Lars has been said to have been the family member Tove was closest to right after their mother.


Snufkin values freedom above all else. Tove herself stated that “freedom is the most important thing”. She described Snufkin’s loneliness as “the good kind”. This is in contrast with Fillyjonk’s “wrong kind” of loneliness. Snufkin’s loneliness is something he chooses for himself. Snufkin does not attach himself to places, possessions or people. He can throw his tent away and is happy just looking at beautiful things rather than taking them with him. Snufkin values his own space where he can concentrate on his melodies. He can sometimes come off as unfriendly because he has a habit of being rather curt with people who invade his peace. For better or for worse, Snufkin is very charismatic and people flock to him to hear his wisdom.


The strongest attachment in Snufkin’s life is Moomintroll. No matter how hard Snufkin tries, Moomintroll and how he misses him will always come to his mind. And Moomintroll will always miss him and wait for him. This is clearly similar to the relationship between Tove and Atos. For Tove, Atos was the center of her world. She was entirely dedicated to their relationship, while Atos was preoccupied with his career and political ideals. Like Moomintroll, Tove was always waiting for Atos to spend time with her.


After Tove’s love for Atos cooled down, they remained good friends until the end. She was able to see his faults in a more critical light but also understood them with humor. Similar friendship after love can be seen between Snufkin and Moomintroll in later stories. It’s still good to remember that Tove Jansson’s style was to write characters and themes inspired by her life rather than actually insert them in her books. Snufkin and his relationship Moomintroll are more likely meant to reflect themes about admiration, dedication and waiting. With some small exceptions, characters in Moomin books are independent and more inspired than based on actual people. This is why Snufkin also is inspired by more than one person.


Snufkin’s character changes a bit as the books go on. This is most likely affected by the stories becoming more mature and Tove’s relationship with Atos changing. In the first books Snufkin is a passionate artist. He tells outlandish stories about himself and is actually happy to meet people. In later publications, this was among the things Tove Jansson fixed. She made Snufkin’s character more consistent and made him more quiet and distant to match his characterization in later books. He is the contrast to Moomintroll’s naivety and has a great effect on Moomintroll’s personal growth.


In Moominvalley In November (1970) Snufkin seems to let go of his aversion to the company of others. His character arc is about realizing that he was always free with the people who loved him because they actually let him do as he pleases. This realization leads him to return to the Moomin’s house even though it’s getting close to winter.

septic-howell-iplier  asked:

What was your favorite part of PAX?

Well, it was super fun getting to talk to people in real life, Ethan’s a real cool guy to hang with and it’s always a good time seeing Jack and Wiish! And it was fun talking to “the animator gang” as well! But experiencing the reaction to the Anti-video first hand, and meeting Kellie has to get a shared #1 spot :)

usatoday.com
Harry Styles interview: Music is 'like therapy,' and 'honesty' is his drug
The' self-titled debut album from the One Direction singer comes out Friday.

Promoting a new album is hard work, and for Harry Styles, that work involves gamely commenting on One Direction fan-fiction theories.

“Oh, is that a thing?” he said, amused by the internet chatter linking his new song Sweet Creature to his 1D bandmate Louis Tomlinson. “Well, whatever it is that it makes one feel. But I think if you listen to the lyrics, you can work out what it’s about.”

Styles’ charming, British-accented modesty aside, the 23-year-old One Direction singer is poised to become one of the world’s biggest pop stars with the release of his self-titled debut album (out Friday), a collection of music that Styles describes as “songs about stories, and another group of songs delving into, ‘Why did I feel like that.’”

His first single Sign of the Times was a Biblically-epic debut, drawing comparisons to David Bowie and Elton John, a logical progression from the classic-rock nostalgia heard on One Direction’s final two albums. But Styles, and his similarly-aged fans, grew up in an era of music where genre distinctions have melted together, and his album spends just as much time dabbling in twangy folk and modern alt-pop than the stadium-rock of his former band.

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How I imagine Hades comes to sire new demigods
  • Persephone: Honey, our sex life is getting repetitive again.
  • Hades: well, I could...
  • Persephone: For gods sake, Hades, there are only so many times you can analyse the Kama sutra and find something new. Go fuck a mortal, they always have cool new tricks.
  • Hades: what if I have a kid.
  • Persephone: bring it down here, plenty of room. I love babies.
  • Hades: why do I always have to go up to bang the mortals? Can't you do it once in a while?
  • Persephone: well I would honey, but I can't leave you here alone. You're too soft on the new souls.
  • Hades: I am not! I'm the fearsome lord of the underworld!
  • Persephone: Sisyphus.
  • Hades: *sigh* I'm going, I'm going.
  • Persephone: try to find a blonde this time. They make such cute babies.
  • Hades: *distressed god noises*
2

#Everyday Awkward Situations 01

(when you try to be cool and majestic but you just don’t succeed)

look I love when girls cover ‘take me to church’ and don’t change the pronouns, but can we PLEASE stop saying that it somehow 'makes’ the song gay???? The song is about institutionalized homophobia. 'Take me to church’ has ALWAYS been gay, regardless of the gender of the singer. Saying that a female singer makes it gay completely erases the fact that it was never straight in the first place.

Headcanons about slowburn of relationship between Yurio and Otabek

I’m melting when I imagine how long and pure will be the development of relationship between Otabek and Yurio.

•  their friendship that becomes stronger and stronger every day of their lifes
•  they feel a little bit embarrased with each other first time, but very soon Yurio makes Otabek laughing very much and freely and all people around them just watching on it with opened mouths. Like… whoah
•  when Yurio listens to music which Otabek recommended to him, he smiles so pure that Viktor and Yuuri aka Proud Dads™ are melting because of cuteness 
•  Yurio usually talks very quiet to Otabek because he thinks these conversations are so private and he just feels calmness near him
•  but they love being loud and cool and they always ready to make crazy things together (WELCOME TO THE MADNESS!)
•  they’re coming off to the fullest and enjoying every moment of their lives 
•  Otabek can freely express his emotions with Yurio because he knows that Yurio will not laugh at him and will understand every peace of his personality
•  and same with Yurio
•  they freely speak on russian, but Yurio starts learning kazakh because he thinks that this language is really, really beautiful
•  even if Yurio and Otabek are friends, they compete against each other in figure skating
•  but they find it a bit funny and they always support each other and rejoice for each other no matter which places they take
•  they trust each other and cherish each other soooo much that you just start crying because of this solid bond
• development of this bond will take months or years but on every day of their friendship they will be opening to each other more and more 
warning: headcanons about their friendship-romantic relationship!!
•  should I say that sufficient amount of time should have paased before they recognised romantic feelings for each other?
• nothing really changes when they reveal their deep feelings to each other, they just start feel… like now there are literally nothing that they still hide from each other. They’re opened to each other on 120%
• it’s absolutely non-jealous relationship, because they trust each other SO MUCH AND I’M NOT TIRED OF REPEATING THIS!! <3 <3 <3
•  for a very long time no one knows that they started dating because Yurio doesn’t really like showing off about his relationship with Otabek, this thing, again, very private for him, and Otabek thinks the same thing
•  but of course Viktor and Yuuri have already known about all of it on the first day of confession
• they’re badass and pure couple at the same time, because they know how to combine incompatible 

I always love that feeling of when you listen to a song you haven’t heard in a really long time, but it’s like nothing has changed.
You still know every line and are able to bust out that chorus like you’ve been singing it your while life.

Music is a a pretty cool thing yo

hey!! so a lot of you were asking about the day and night universe and how stuff works there and i tried to think of something less half-assed and seriously thought this through. and i would like to warn you if you were expecting some kind of science related explanation or something cries i deeply apologize


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