how did they reach this state

This picture seems so simple, yet says so much.

A couple that could take on the world – together. That’s why they are the only couple that almost reached the top TWICE. A couple that when combined, outmatches everyone in the game. They were going for ROUND 2. And this time, with the true mastermind at the top.

But when you play the game for too long, the number of enemies continues to climb.

Putin having it out for Hillary from her time as Secretary of State, believing she would be more ruthless than Obama. A woman who knew how to play chess better than he did. Something he knew first-hand and up close while Hillary was SoS. Putin saw her effectiveness. Hillary scared him. So he undermined our democracy and swung it for Trump.

Hillary also had to overcome years of slander, sexism, Bernie-mania, Comey, the Republicans, Fox News/talk radio, and finally, Donald Trump.

Amazingly, she still won the popular vote by MILLIONS and all three debates. A truly remarkable woman. Bill has known it for years.

Having the Clintons back in the White House truly terrified the GOP. And this picture shows us exactly why. They are made of steel and can get through anything – together.

Better With Friends

Originally posted by thetastycravings

“I don’t think so.” You disagreed with Dean while stacking up the dirty plates. “This Thanksgiving definitely had more food than last years.” 

He raised a brow, “But last year we had three kinds of pie. Not just two.” He began gathering the used utensils. 

“This year there was more turkey though.” You looked at what was now an empty dish where the turkey once sat. He rubbed his stomach in response: “You got me there.” He stated. 

Back in the kitchen, Sam was scrubbing away at the dishes. He groaned when you dropped the stack of plates beneath his hands. 

“There’s only three of us!” He looked down at was seemed like a hundred plates. “How much did we eat?”

“If you saw my stomach right now, you’d understand.” You reached down to once again try re-buttoning your jeans. 

Dean walked over to the fridge and swung the door open. “Sammy, stop for a second.” He took out two cans of whipped cream. 

“I forgot!” You exclaimed with a smile, watching him shake the cans. Sam dried his hands quickly and took one from Dean’s hand. 

Sam popped the cap off and motioned it in your direction. You opened your mouth and he squeezed nearly half the damn can into your mouth. Then did the same to himself. Dean was already on his third mouthful. 

Once you swallowed you said, “When did this tradition even start?” 

With his mouth full Dean answered, “When, a couple years back you sprayed us both with it instead.”  

Laughing, you leaned against the counter, waiting to steal the can away from Sam. “It was pretty funny. Seeing your face all serious even while it was covered in this stuff? You tackling me after that was totally worth it.” 

Sam tossed the empty can into the trash. “Happy Thanksgiving, guys. Really.” He began to turn serious, “It gets better each year.” 

Dean threw you a smile and you squeezed Sam’s arm, “Happy Thanksgiving.” 

Naruto: The Last And Its Many Issues.

I think I understand NaruHina shippers now. 

I understand them in the sense that I know where they get all these made up facts about NaruHina from.They get it from The Last.

There were so many lies and twisted facts in that movie, that honestly I was just in this mixed state of confusion, bafflement, exasperation and anger for the entire movie.

A few examples of things that The Last did that made my annoyance levels reach new highs were:

1) How the entire movie made Hinata seem like the only person who ever helped, cared or was there for Naruto. That she was his first bond and that she never left his side. So then what about the Sandaime, Sasuke, Iruka, Kakashi, Sakura, Jiraiya, Gaara, and so on. Were they all figments of Naruto’s imagination or what.

2) That the creaters made Hinata and Naruto experience a genjutsu so that Naruto could “finally realize his feelings for Hinata which have totally always existed since like forever and conveniently layed dormant for like a decade”. I’m not buying that! Hinata confessed her feelings in the middle of the battle with Pain, but then Naruto either forgot or just couldn’t care less and ignored it. See, if he really, genuinely loved her then that wouldn’t happen!! He went into Jinchuuriki mode because he saw a friend in danger, not a lover, or girlfriend or whatever. With Naruto, that makes complete sense  because Naruto has always valued his friends and comrades above everything else.

3) That it copied SNS. (I am an SNS shipper so that might make me slightly biased I’ll admit that). Seriously though!!?!? They even took Sasuke’s chakra colour which was depicted to be purple whilst Hinata’s was always a light blue.

4) That it made Naruto become such an inconsiderate liar. Please refer to this scene…

     Hinata: My sister’s in danger, and I’m here knitting. I’m a terrible big sister        aren’t I…?

     Naruto: That’s not true at all. I mean the only reason you’re here is because      you volunteered to save her.

     Me: …but she’s still knitting… in the middle of a rescue mission… to rescue        HER sister… am I missing something here?!?!!

This isn’t the first time that something like this happened either. RIP Neji, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that and I’m so sorry.

5) According to The Last, if a girl developes a crush on a boy, she will never get over it.

6) This one is about Sasusaku. How did Sakura fall truly in love with Sasuke anyway. I’ve never understood that to be honest. I just don’t see the time period in which it happened. In the academy, she liked him for his looks. In Team 7, she liked him for his looks, but started to actually care for him as a teammate. In Shippuuden, suddenly she has feelings of pure love. How is that exactly? She never spent any real time with him, she never got to know him, she probably still doesn’t know about the Uchiha massacre; an event that had shaped Sasuke into who he was. What does she love about Sasuke? That’s the question that I really want an answer to.

7) How is Hinata too good for Naruto? Don’t get me wrong, she’s a perfectly nice, normal, quiet girl, but what has she done though that makes her ‘too good’ for Naruto. Naruto who fought so hard in so many wars, overcame so much prejudice and harsh treatment, saved so many lives, helped so many people find their way out of the darkness, inspired so many people, etc.

8) That the only reason the movie even exists is because the creators knew that if they just ended the series with a NaruHina ending, people would be extremely confused because they wouldn’t have a clue how/when they even developed a romantic relationship. That’s how little interaction they had in the whole series. They needed to make this movie so they can somehow try to justify the ending.

This is a summarised list. 


Y'know, those big flying eelworms I never draw

Waay early on in Otiose worldbuilding history I’d had the thought “what if these worms were actually machines”

And y'know..I think I’m gonna roll with that.
THING IS I like the idea of them Technically being built/AI, but elo tech has reached this state of organic-ness where they’re now just, indistinguishable from an All Natural organic being

Plus they’ve been given the gift of Reproduction n whatnot, so the elo straight up played god and made a whole new species out of scratch (or technically the Seraph did, depending how u think of it)

A fun (?) thing to think about is the fact they probably wiped out and replaced the original creature they were based on after being let loose

Teenage Boy

“I’m starving,” Aria announced as she and Ezra dragged themselves into the kitchen after sleeping until almost 11 a.m. “I can’t believe we slept so late.”

“We didn’t actually go to sleep until the early hours of the morning,” he reminded her.

She looked at him and smirked. “I remember,” she told him. Oh, she definitely did not forget how much fun they had. When they reached the kitchen, she stood on her toes and clasped her fingers behind his neck, bringing him down for a good morning kiss. With their wedding on the horizon, it felt as if they had fallen into this semi-permanent state of flirtation and pre-honeymoon giddiness.

Aria opened the top cabinet and stood on her toes, trying to find the pancake mix in the back of the cabinet. As she reached as high as she could, her oversize Hollis t-shirt rode up just enough so her ass was poking out the bottom. When she determined she couldn’t reach it, she looked at Ezra and pouted, but realized that his gaze was not on her face, but on her ass.

“Seriously?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’re getting married in two weeks, and you still stare at me like you’re a giddy teenage boy when you catch a glimpse of my ass.”

“I do not act like a teenage boy whenever I see your ass,” he amended. In fact, he was privileged to see her ass a lot. They lived together. They slept in the same bed together. They loved together. “I act like a giddy teenage boy when I see your ass in my shirt.”

Aria smiled and shook her head. “As long as you’re so easily amused,” she told him. “I will walk around in one of your shirts all day and save a lot of time and money on Christmas and birthday presents.”

Ezra laughed, then bent down to give Aria yet another sweet kiss.. He proceeded to easily grab the box of pancake mix and handed it to her with a smirk.

thepiratehero  asked:

"Emma, . . . I need to tell you something, and I'm not quite sure how to go about it." He stated, biting his lower lip and picking at the end of his Hook nervously.

He seemed burdened. Emma had seen something similar the day before, too. Something was weighing on him, but she was sure he would tell her. And he did. Emma felt this happiness in her, this feeling that this was right, this was how it was supposed to happen. She gave him time until he was ready and he actually came to her. Emma reached for his hand. “Just say it, you know you can tell me anything.”

The miles per hour shone in her face like the moon that hovered over her speeding car.

Driving soothed her. She could control where she went and how fast she got there. She could blare music out the windows of she wanted, or cut people off, being the asshole she always wanted to be.

But that didn’t soothe her as much as he did.

He gave her a flutter in her stomach that calmed her more than any medicine or essence. The gentleness of his touch sent her into a state of euphoria that no amount of alcohol or smoke could send her.

His hand reached over from his position in the passenger’s seat and found itself on her thigh. No squeeze, no pressure, just resting on her skin as she drove.

She kept her eyes on the road, internalizing lyrics of an old Dashboard Confessional song that was blasting through the subwoofers. Occasionally, he’d sing along, killing her on the inside as his smooth voice floated above the radio.

She wanted to hate him.
But she couldn’t hate him.
His eyes were too kind and his touch so gentle.

His lifestyle was too much for her to handle- too many drunken nights spent in the floor of clubs she’d only been to once, the joy he received when girls flocked toward him for photographs, the way the media portrayed him as a sex toy- it was nothing like her simple life back home in the Midwestern US, where the most fun one could have was riding through a cornfield at night while yelling perverted statements out the windows of a pickup.

The car sped as her foot grew heavier on the gas. He lightly rubbed her thigh, attempting to calm her and slow the car in turn. He opened his mouth again and sang, sending his soothing voice into her head.

The way he loved her was completely different than how he acted outside of those things. The way he brought her dinner from her favorite takeout diner so she could avoid paparazzi and fanatics, the way he visited her mom with her and helped clean up around her house while they were there, the simple way he looked at her with every ounce of his attention- these were the ways he showed he loved her.

She wanted to love him, too.
But she could never love him.
Her conscience told her she was too selfish for anyone to love her- told her she was worth nothing.

But he thought different. He saw her flaws and adored them. He saw the wave in her hair and glow in her eyes and the kindness of the curve at her waist. He saw the way she cared for him when he came home intoxicated- he knew she hated his drunkeness- the way she waited for him patiently as he waded through the crowds of humanity that surrounded him in public, the way she subconsciously grinned at herself after she was caught staring at him.

But he also saw the way she hated herself. She saw no worth in her bones, like no one wanted her around. He thought it was his fault because of his lack of being around, he felt responsible. But he didn’t know how to fix it.

His hand traveled further up her leg, his gaze not leaving her forward-facing eyes.
“Sweets,” he released, turning down the volume knob on the radio. “Pull the car over.”
She glanced at him and slowed the car down, pulling over on the side of the road.
Her hands fell off the wheel while his reached up to cup her face, tears filling her bottom lids.
“Shh, shhhh…” He caressed, running a thumb across her cheek. He leaned his forehead on hers and let his hands drop to her waist and neck.
“I know I can’t fix anything, and I know that I’ve messed a bunch of shit up… But I also know that I’m in love with you, kitten, and nothing I do will ever change that.”
A tear fell down her face as he pressed his lips to hers. Quiet sobs left her chest when he slightly parted from her.

He knew that there would be no remedy achieved by his words, and she knew he was trying, but by just being in their moment, they knew that there didn’t have to be a solution. They were not each other’s bandages, but they were each other’s.
The Purpose Of Anger

Once my son was late home and it was already dark. I was increasingly worried as I paced up and down the road hoping to gain sight of him approaching whilst failing to get him to answer his phone. My frantic concern reached such a pitch that when he did eventually arrive, in a completely oblivious state, I showed what was really fear as powerful anger shouting at him about thoughtlessness and dealing with the situation in a quite appalling and over the top way.

When my children step over boundaries or upset me, as they are prone to do on occasion, that memory comes bounding back into my head like a red flag, reminding me of how dreadful I felt seeing the abject shock and sadness in his face as I released a volley of words which said far more about my own emotional state at that time than it did about his behaviour. Never since have I exploded in anything like the same manner (although I did get very animated recently when a carefully made sourdough loaf stuck to the oven and emerged looking like a flattened badger) and consequently my relationship with my children and our mutual respect has, for the most part, reached a level which feels as comfortable as I imagine it could.

Anger is not all bad. There are ways in which it can be wholly destructive and ways which it can build, perhaps not in the moment but over time, into something stronger and more enduring than could be imagined.

Growing up at home anger was nothing but destructive. Everyone would shout and nothing got resolved. As the youngest I spent most of my time worrying about the imagined dreadful consequence of the shouting rather than engaging in it myself. There is something which strikes deep about parents going at an argument with gusto, something wholly dissonant in the witnessing of two people who, I was led to believe, created me from love displaying such open vitriol. It’s easy to question the basis of our very existence let alone the merits or otherwise of anger.

So what positive purposes can anger serve?

Anger reminds you I care. We all know we are going to get angry. In fact we need to worry if we never do. Life is not so smooth that things always go as we would wish and anger is a natural state when we are disappointed. A lack of anger and conflict in a relationship might well indicate either a repression of emotion (not good) or a lack of passion (not good). To be fearful of anger is to misunderstand its power. If you can deal with anger in a mature fashion, understanding the different perspectives after the dust has settled you will only strengthen your relationship rather than damage it. Anger is an opportunity for insight.

Anger reminds me of what’s important to me. It’s not someone else making you angry it is the interpretation which you place on the situation. Understanding this is an increase in self awareness and the better you know yourself the better equipped you are. I was with a girl who was always late and it made me incandescent with anger. In the end I took to telling her we needed to leave half an hour before we really did just so that we’d be on time. But my anger came from a perceived violation of my values, that lateness means I don’t care, and I projected the same meaning onto her. The problem was that these were not her values and so she wasn’t violating anything in me, she was just cramming too much in because her values told her that achievement equals self worth and that was more important to her than being on time.  

Anger reminds me I matter. When we get angry something is happening which we perceive as wrong. It might be that we feel that we are not being treated the way we expect to be and our anger is a fire bell and a call for evacuation. Recently I had a session with someone whose partner had asked that they move their relationship from an intimate one to a friendship and insisting that they still had a future but needed a break before shortly afterwards discovering her registered on a dating site. Desperate sadness won’t move you anywhere in this situation because it is a still emotion devoid of energy allowing you to be trodden like a weed in a unkept garden . Here the white horse of anger is required so that you can saddle up and ride off into the sunset vowing to find a partner who might show a little more respect.

Anger is optimistic. Why bother to get angry if there is no prospect of changing anything? Precisely because anger is so full of power it can be the catalyst for change. If we believe that change is achievable then there is an optimism that things can improve and anger is a fast car down the highway of innovation. Injustice is overturned with anger. Without anger women would not have got the vote, slavery would be alive and well and we’d probably still be reading by candlelight if our ancestors hadn’t become so fed up with setting fire to the curtains.

Anger is good for relationships. Yes really because it shows that you care. It is never the anger itself which destroys a union it is the way it is dealt with. If there is a fire in your relationship you’ll keep warm but let it spill out of the hearth and onto the carpet and your house will burn down. My parents cared enough to argue but they were clueless in terms of containing it and resolving it. The starkest illustration of that care came when my father became ill and died. I was genuinely taken aback by my mother’s grief. They clearly cared about one another but if only they had been able to express themselves constructively through anger they may have had a much more enjoyable marriage than they could have imagined.

Last night my daughter made a remark at dinner about how some people use nutmeg to get high and I made a flippant remark. She was angry with me and I got angry because she was angry with me. She felt disrespected and I felt attacked. But that’s the problem with anger, its a personal thing, it comes from within and is a reflection of all that goes on in our heads and hearts. Only when we realise and accept this can we stop blaming other people and make the necessary changes to either limit our exposure to things that fire us up  or use that fire in a way that lights the road rather than burning it to a cinder.

Later I apologised about the nutmeg incident and told her I should have taken her observation more seriously. I said I hoped she wasn’t still angry with me. She said “I never stay angry with you daddy, unless you do something really wrong like murder someone”. Fair enough.

anonymous asked:

47 luke

“No one has to know,” Luke sighs, rubbing your arm.

You turn toward him, your arm falling out of his reach. You give him a confused look.

“Why are you rubbing my arm? We’re not a thing. This is not a morning cuddle session,” you laugh. “This is a how the hell did we end up here situation.”

“Well, I was trying to sweet but alright,” Luke chuckles. “But I’m assuming alcohol played a part in this.”

“Neither of us was drunk,” you state, giving him an odd look. “I remember every single thing that happened. We had maybe a beer a piece, and we always do that. Alcohol didn’t cause this.”

“Well, why do we care? So, we hooked up? Who gives a fuck?”

“You know the guys are gonna give us shit if they find out, Luke,” you scoff. “And I don’t want to hear that I’m ‘Mrs. Hemmings’ for the rest of my life.”

“Please, you’d be honored to be my wife,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you roll your eyes. “I can’t believe I just slept with my best friend, who still laughs when people say fart.”

He giggles, further proving your point and you can’t help but smile at him. You place your hand on his bare chest, knowing that it was past the platonic nature of your relationship, but having just hooked up, you figured it wasn’t too far out of the limits.

“Well, no one has to know,” Luke repeats. “You know that right? We can get out of this bed and this never happened.”

“Do you want that?” you ask timidly, sighing to yourself. “Do you want to pretend that this never happened?”

“No,” he says. “I always want to remember this. It was pretty great, yeah? But if you want to forget this ever happened, then I’ll play along.”

“I don’t know what I want,” you say, moving your hand and turning onto your back. “We’re best friends, you know? It was an amazing night and I don’t want to forget it. But I don’t know if I can do this.”

“We don’t have to tell the guys,” Luke laughs. “Just keep it between us.”

“But what if we do it again?”

“Then we’ll keep that a secret, too, I guess.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t keep it a secret…” you suggest, glancing at him through the corner of your eyes.

“You want to let the guys know about this? You want them to act like we’re dating?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you.

“What is this?” you say, your voice quiet. “Are we best friends who just happened to fuck and might do it again? Are we going to date? Friends with benefits? Or are we going to go back to best friends?”

“What do you want?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know what I want. You always help me with my decisions, Luke,” you narrow your eyes. “You have to make this decision.”

“You’re asking me to decide our entire future right here in this bed?”


“When we just had sex last night and we’re currently laying naked next to each other, you want your sex crazed male best friend to make the decision of whether he fucks you again or not?”

“Yes,” you answer.

He takes a deep breath, chuckling to himself when you roll your eyes at him. You turn over too, facing him and looking into his eyes. The comforter had shifted, showing off his stomach, a small trail of hair almost teasing you and leaving you wanting the comforter to slip further down. His mouth opens before gently closing again but you place your hand on his shoulder and he smiles, starting to talk and avoiding your eyes.

“Well, coming from a male with a sex hangover, I’d like to fuck you again. Coming from your best friend, I don’t want to ruin our friendship or ever hurt you. Coming from the guys’ best friend, I’d say not to go for anything because they will tease the fuck out of us. But coming from me, the guy who is all of those things, I say yes. Because even though I’m all of those things, most importantly, I’m the guy that has been in love with you for three months. So I say we try it. We try out being a couple and see if we can work everything out. I say that we at least have to try it, because God, I really just wanna be with you.”

By the time he’s finished, his eyes are locked with yours. His hand had made it’s way to your hip, resting there and you moved your hand from his shoulder, trailing it down his chest.

“You what?”

“I want to be with you.”

“When did you–” your voice leaves you before you can finish your sentence.

“When did I fall in love with you? It was when we went on the ferris wheel and you were clutching my arm for dear life and screaming your head off. You only calmed down when I kissed your forehead and told you it was going to be okay.”

You give him a small smile, almost embarrassed by the memory.

“So, yes or no?”


“Will you be mine? Can we tell people that this happened?”

You smile at him before scooting closer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Yes,” you muttered into his chest. “Yes.”

Naruto: the final bullcrap

After hours wasted on writing out my trauma of the Naruto ending I came to the conclusion that before ranting anything more, I need to make a normal objective opinion on The last by watching the movie. I did it today. Oh boy. What a an epos of brainfarts. And how beautifully animated it is.

The list of brainfarts spotted in the movie below, my personal farewell also below ♥

Keep reading

FenHawke Drabble

I wanted to make an entry for askbroodyelf’s contest. Word length is exactly 500 words. No warnings need apply unless over-application of fluff is worth a warning. I’ve been meaning to do a drabble about a little headcanon of mine, and this was a good excuse. Anyway, I hope someone out there enjoys it.

Keep reading

One day this past May, Donald Trump’s eldest son, Donald Trump Jr., reached out to a senior adviser to Gov. John Kasich of Ohio, who left the presidential race just a few weeks before. As a candidate, Kasich declared in March that Trump was “really not prepared to be president of the United States,” … but according to the Kasich adviser (who spoke only under the condition that he not be named), Donald Jr. wanted to make him an offer nonetheless: Did he have any interest in being the most powerful vice president in history?

When Kasich’s adviser asked how this would be the case, Donald Jr. explained that his father’s vice president would be in charge of domestic and foreign policy.

Then what, the adviser asked, would Trump be in charge of?

“Making America great again” was the casual reply.


Robert Draper, “How Donald Trump picked his running mate”, The New York Times

Still think the Pence pick is an irrelevant sideshow?