i felt like making a history post

I Used to Be an Anti and an Sjw

I know shocker but let me tell my story. Long ago ( a couple of months ago) I was an Anti/anti supporter and an sjw( I was an sjw so hard). I was ( and still am) heavily against incest ships. I was apart of the fat acceptance movement, and I thought I was helping PoC and LGBT people and the community by not only volunteering but being an online activist that was heavily involved in fandoms. I thought that fanart that certain artists made was wrong and that only PoC and LGBT+ people could make content of certain characters and for ourselves. I thought calling people racists, homophobes, etc for not agreeing with a certain thing was ok and fine.

Then I got involved in the Reapfist vs Reaper76 ship war. I started seeing what other people were going through and I started feeling sympathy. I started seeing those “cishets” getting abused and still not fully understanding what they were doing was wrong. I started seeing people who thought differently than me get attacked. I saw and found out what suicide baiting was and how people were getting it over fiction. I started seeing people proudly boast that people that like something should die, choke,etc.

I started doing more and more reasearch. I found out what happened 2 years ago and found out someone attempted to take their life over what they drew. I found out that Steven Universe was known for that instead of being a show about the Gems or its plot. I started seeing that fandoms as a whole were attacked and hated because of this incident and many more.

I started writing and drawing which was very hard. I started to see what life for those people was like. I went through the no motivation periods and the will not to write/draw. That’s when I really started defending people. That’s when I saw who was and wasn’t a friend. People who I used to follow/was acquaintances with started to block me. I started seeing that people were into fiction for other reasons. I started seeing that people weren’t one way caricatures and uneducated idiots.

I started trying to get to know people instead of the we can’t be friends over the political ideals thing. I had left the movements in question after they made a mockery and started misusing pedophilia and age gaps. I started making friends. I started to grow as a person instead of thinking in one way. People started messaging me about how they felt about me sticking up and defending them. People started saying I inspired them.

I started to ship what I wanted and engage in discourse. I went into the Bunnyribbit tag and see people call it pedophilia. I started seeing a tag I like get hate. That made me change from being an anti entirely. I went to Tony Stark tag and engage in discourse. After that the rest is history really.

I made this post for people that think they know me, that throw buzz words about me, that attack me and the people scared of leaving the movement. I made this post as a this is me thing. Don’t use it to attack people.

Not Like Other Ravenclaws- Tom Holland One Shot (Hogwarts AU)

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: (Requested by Anonymous) Could you do a Hogwarts!Tom imagine where he’s a Gryffindor and the reader is a Ravenclaw and Tom always teases her cause she doesn’t have the best marks and isn’t as smart academically like the other Ravenclaws but he ends up making her cry and he apologizes and tells her he likes her?

Word Count: 980

A/N: Seeing as Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was released 20 years ago today, I felt I should post a Harry Potter AU. Enjoy!

*This is not edited!!!


You sighed upon receiving your results for your History of Magic exam. You had, once again, miserably failed it. Your eyes drifted from the circled score to the tie hanging around your neck. How you had ended up in Ravenclaw six years ago still remains a mystery to you. You were not wise, like the others, and you did not possess a superior intellect.

When Professor Binns announced the end of class, you shoved the awful report into your bag and hurried out of the classroom. Astronomy was your next class and you were not looking forward to it at all. Astronomy and History of Magic both happened to be your worst subjects and both also happened to be the ones that “all Ravenclaws were good at”.

As you paced down the corridor, you heard your name being called out. Knowing exactly who it belonged to, you continued to walk to Astronomy.

“Hey, Y/N, I was talking to you!” They shouted and hurried to catch up to you. “Where are you going in such a rush?” You came to a halt when none other than Tom Holland, the Gryffindor Prince, stepped in front of you.

“I have to get to Astronomy.” You said.

“Ah, so you’re off the fail another exam?”

“Shove off, Holland.” You tried to push past him, but he managed to block the corridor.

“How’d you do on your History of Magic exam? I got a perfect score.” He smirked.

“Why do you care so much?”

“Aw, come on, Y/N. What’s the harm in telling us your score?” He asked, making you roll your eyes, “You wouldn’t be so afraid if you got a decent score.” He laughed, “Aren’t Ravenclaws supposed to be intelligent? You truly are the stupidest Ravenclaw I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. It’s no wonder why you haven’t gotten any Ravenclaw friends. They all know you’re inferior. If brains were gold, you’d be poorer than Weasley and that’s saying something.”

“You’re such a cruel bastard.” You stated, as you felt tears beginning to gather in your eyes. He smirk dropped as he looked at you. With his guard down, you were able to successfully push past him. You hastened down the corridor. Your feet didn’t carry you to your Astronomy class; they carried you to the only place you could really find any sense of serenity, the Room of Requirement. You had found the room halfway through your third year at Hogwarts, right after meeting Tom for the first time. You were destroyed by his relentless teasing and begged to be anywhere but Hogwarts. The door to the room appeared and it was to a beautiful bedroom. There was a bookcase in one corner, a fireplace on the wall, a fluffy bed, and perfectly neat walls. It was a peaceful place that you had only dreamed of before finding it. Whenever you were faced with humiliation or whenever an extremely tough day occurred, you knew you could rely on the Room of Requirements to give you peace.

You stayed in there, crying and pondering for hours. You were a Ravenclaw; you were supposed to be intelligent and wise. You weren’t supposed to fail at any classes. You emerged from the room to find that it was now past dinner. You headed straight to the kitchen, where you knew the house elves would kindly give you food. You ate your meal silently as you watched the house elves busily work around you. Once you had finished eating, you made your way back to Ravenclaw’s common room for the night.


During Transfiguration the next day, you received your score for your previous exam. It was a perfect score, the best you had ever done. You had always been good at Transfiguration; it seemed to be the only thing you were good at. You smiled to yourself as you placed the paper in your bag. Today was going a lot better than yesterday.

Or at least it looked that way until after Transfiguration.

Your path to your next class was once again blocked by the infamous Tom Holland.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked, concerned, as he took your hands in his.

“Why do you care?” You replied, yanking you hands away from him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I was out of line and I never meant to make you upset.”

“You never meant to make me upset? What was your goal then in mocking me?”

“My goal was talking to you.”

“Wh-what?” You asked in disbelief.

“I wanted to talk to you and none of it came out right. I’m sorry for being so cruel. I just have always fancied you and I figured you would never go for a guy like me.”

“Well, I certainly don’t like Class A jerks.” You stated.

“I didn’t mean anything I said yesterday. You are so bright and it’s one of the things that makes you so attractive. Ravenclaws aren’t just intelligent- they’re witty, and original, and creative. You don’t have to be good at History of Magic, because you’re so talented at Transfiguration. You create beautiful things through Transfiguration. You don’t have to be good at everything because, to me, you are perfect as it is.”

“You really mean it?”

“With all my heart. Please, Y/N, let me take you out tonight to prove it.” Tom begged, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll give you another chance, but I will turn you into a toad if you ever hurt me again.”

~~~ Tag List: @gray-rose13 @devan-d @flammy-whater @cutefluffy89 @ria132love
Born to Make (Wizarding) History part ii

So I decided to write a drabble as warm up before I settle in to try and knock out a big scene in bysoti(d) tonight… and I felt like writing more on this… sooooo.   Yeah.  (If you’d rather read it on ao3, I’m going over there to post it next.)

There was one place in the dungeons that Yuuri headed to whenever he wanted a bit of alone time.  Usually, this was when the newest issue of his favourite Charms magazine would come out, but sometimes he just needed a place to be alone.  A place where he could get upset or have a panic attack or just about anything.  There weren’t many places in the castle that one could actually be alone since so much of the castle was covered in portraits, and like everyone knew, portraits were nosy buggers.

Yuuri swore that if he ever had his portrait painted, he would not be a nosy bugger.

So his favourite place in the dungeons was a little nook off a side corridor that led toward where the old Potions laboratory was.  It had been vacant for years now, and many of the portraits had squawked until they had been moved to a part of the castle more frequented, the spaces where they had formerly resided brighter and cleaner than the darkened area of wall surrounding them.

The only portraits that remained were the ones that, like Yuuri, enjoyed a bit of peace and quiet.  He even knew all their names.  There was Icarus Sonnengut and Jonah the Mollycoddler and finally the Lady Anastasia Lotta Stainton-Pennington.

“Wotcha, Yuuri!”  Jonah leaned against the edge of his frame.  "It’s been almost two weeks.  I thought you’d forgot about all us down here.“

Lady Anastasia Lotta Stainton-Pennington (yes, you needed to use her full name whenever possible) tutted.  "Leave the poor boy alone, Jonah.  It is absolutely none of our business what the boy gets up to.”

Thank you, my lady.“  Yuuri bowed slightly and slid down the wall opposite them.  "There’s a new Charms professor.”

“Oh?”  Lady Anastasia Lotta Stainton-Pennington pretended that she wasn’t the least bit interested, and examined her nails as if there was a possibility that one of them had chipped, but the tone of her voice gave her away and Yuuri bit back a smile.

“There is!  And boy is he a bit of all right.  Never seen one like him.”

Jonah, stuck between the other two portraits looked back and forth between them.  "Tell!  Don’t leave me guessing!  I want to know!  Who cares if missy prissy over there isn’t interested.“

"Did you follow him around the castle, Icarus?” Yuuri asked from his seat on the floor.  he shifted, the stone cold beneath his feet and wrapped his hand around his wand in the pocket of his robe and whispered a localized heating charm.

“I might’ve.  He wears his robes quite fitted.  Is it a Russian thing?”

Yuuri shook his head.  "It’s a Viktor thing.“

Lady Anastasia Lotta Stainton-Pennington fluttered he lashes and tapped a long manicured finger against her chin.  "A Viktor thing?  I thought he was a teacher…”

Yuuri blushed.  He could even feel his ears getting hot.  "I… uh… that is…“

"THAT’S WHERE I’VE SEEN HIM!” Icarus cried.  "He’s been on the cover of your magazines!

“Oi!  You mean it’s that one?  The one that…” Jonah trailed off and looked down at Yuuri’s lap.

“RUDE!” Icarus scolded.

Yuuri for his part, just drew his knees up and pressed his face against his knees.  "This is the absolute worst! I can’t believe…!  How did you…!“

Jonah laughed.  "Well, the Baron knows everything that goes on in the Slytherin rooms and that painting of Trina the Prude in the room of you lot?  Well, she’s not a prude!”

Yuuri groaned.  Of course it would just be his luck that all the portraits in the castle knew that he … to… Viktor…   He groaned again.  "What am I going to do?“  He looked up.  Lady Anastasia Lotta Stainton-Pennington’s frame was empty.

"She went to go see for herself.  Said she’s been waiting for a fit Charms Professor from Russia to come and buy her portrait from the school.  Next thing you know, she’s going to be asking to be moved to this Viktor fellow’s room.”

Yuuri sighed and took his Charms text out of his pocket and embiggened it.  He might as well study.  Maybe if he did that he wouldn’t have to think about how all the portraits knew about his proclivities.  The sooner he studied the quicker the school year would go by, right? Right!  Then he’d be free of Hogwarts and could really focus on his Charms work.  He might not have the goal of meeting his idol at the iCaSC anymore, but he still needed to find work after he left school.

That or he could always go back and help his parents run their wizarding inn.


It all started out with The Principality of Moscow!! Later named Muscovy by Tsar Peter the Great around 1700! and people say Sealand doesn’t have a chance… Well we didn’t doubt Muscovy!! Also Moscow is the “heir” to the (Eastern Roman Empire) Byzantine Empire’s capital Constantinople! (Later named Istanbul when it was taken over by the Ottoman Empire aka modern day Turkey) The Byzantine Empire was the east half of the Roman Empire… so for all of you Hetalians out there… you could say that Russia is related to Italy, Romano and Seborga and (I think this is right) Rome would be his Grandpa too!! meaning that Byzantine Empire would be his father and I think the Italy brothers would be his cousins? I say this because as Rome started to fall they divided into east and west so lets say that our beloved grandpa Rome is the west and we know Byzantine is the east! Muscovy (Russia) wanted the lands to its south and east so they married Grand Prince Ivan the 3rd to the last niece of the Byzantine Empire thus is why I said that Moscow (Muscovy/Russia’s capital) is the “heir” to Constantinople! Sadly at this point in history the Byzantine Empire’s capital Constantinople was already captured and long gone turned into Istanbul… meaning that (If we want to think about this from a Hetalia standpoint) Russia grew up on his own… alone and Byzantine Empire was dead and probably either didn’t tell Russia/Muscovy who he was related to or if he did Russia was just never introduced/allowed to be introduced to the Italy brothers or (even sadder…) Italy and Romano were never introduced to Russia and were not told that they were related to him… or (The worst situation) Rome did not want the Italy brothers to know that they were related to Russia because he didn’t want to be associated with the defeat of Constantinople which was, besides Rome the Christian capital of the world at this time, but after its defeat by the Ottoman Empire the city was quickly converted to the Ottoman’s primary religion which was(possibly still is? I don’t know about the present religion of Istanbul) Sunni Islam. To Rome this would be a major disgrace to be associated with. I DO NOT mean that to be disrespectful to anyone but the fact is that the Ottoman Empire and the Roman Empire did NOT get along and certainly did not share the same religious views.

I was just reading through my college history book and I thought that I would take a crack at making a headcanon that is backed up by history!!! But if you have evidence that this IS wrong please inform me and I shall change this!!

This is the most in-depth headcanon I have ever created!! If you like it and would like more just ask and I’ll see what I can do!! Also I felt bad for leaving all of you for so long.. so I hope you enjoy!!


(I thought that I would add the notes that everyone added to this post because I thought they were really cool and everyone had great things to say!! Honestly I didn’t think anyone would respond and if they did I thought it would be negative or maybe someone liking it but this is great!!!! Also you all brought my attention to so many things I didn’t even know about Russia and various other nations so thank you to everyone and you can always keep adding things and I’ll try to add them to the post so they can be seen and not just hidden in the notes!!)

december-dragon added: I believe it was Peter the Great who named Russia an empire when he took power, rather than Muscovy which it had already been, because though it remained a tsardom Peter the Great wanted a title that was more European as he sought to westernize Russia.But aaahhh, it’s always so interesting to read about that early history- there really is such a close relationship between Russia and Byzantium, and the resulting relations are fascinating. Always great to read others spreading this history.

stautris added: I myself would recommend  reading about Russian and Scandinavian relationships at IX-X centuries.;)

(Thank you very much for the suggestion!! I shall see what I can find!! Right now my history book only told what I mentioned about Russia and Byzantine but I’m going to check into what you said!!)

thiscrazyhetalian added: Well wouldn’t he also be related to France (“Big Brother France” to N.Italy) and once it is canon and Moscow is the heir of the Eastern Roman empire , doesn’t this mean that he is related to Greece (and Possibly Cyprus ) too? This is really interesting and if you think about it, almost all nations have some kind of relation :) * the byzantine empire is mama Greece in canon i forgot to mention and now it doesn’t make sense But still if you think about it non-canon-icallly it still makes sense , like , i agree with the fact that Rome and the Byzantine empire could be brothers ,but in my headcanon the western and roman empire his sons and Romano is Byz.’s son while N.Italy is West’s son and thats how we got them calling the Roman empire “ Grandpa Rome” but anyway this is my HC they could possibly be brothers too. Also lets not forget that Spain might as well be a son of Rome , wow Russia has many relatives.

huggiebird added: I fully support this stuff. I do. But the person who wanted to Westernize Russia as well was Catherine the Second, of Russia.
She was very facinated by France and their ways~

(Indeed Catherine the Great was very influential in Russia’s history! you could say she greatly influenced Russia!! anyway thank you for adding Catherine because she was far to important for us to even think about forgetting!!) 

Ooookay HH opinion time

So: I watched Horrible Histories with the new cast today.

And I have a few thoughts.

(This is a long post, brace yourself)

I don’t expect this to get notes, but I would like to make a statement about the new cast and as a disclaimer: I mean NO shade by this, I respect them for carrying on what was a good part of my childhood into new, younger children’s, and they have a really tough act to follow, Mat, Simon, Martha, Jim, Larry and Ben being the best six people ever.


I felt like it was forced. I know that they maybe haven’t got into the feel of the programme yet, as you can quite easily tell that the old cast (sheds a tear) are really good friends. However, the fact is that the old cast worked. They worked so well, and all the improv and added in bits were, and are hilarious, but this isn’t a rant about how much I love them.

(Which is a lot.)

But today, me and my sister watched a couple new episodes we had on record - the specials. I began with an open mind, because after all, it’s the same writing, barring contributions from the original cast and Larry, who was a writer anyway. And I don’t wanna be shady, but IN MY OPINION (the key three words here) it simply wasn’t as good. As I said before it felt kinda forced and just didn’t flow as well. I’m also not a fan of the new set up, and the difference in the title cards etc. Personally, nothing will ever be the same as the original cast for me, but when the Vikings have Scottish accents and the same guy plays two people in one song without a costume change, you have to wonder, is it really a fitting replacement?

I obviously mean no shade whatsoever to the new cast and wish them well on their acting endeavours, but personally, I’m gonna stick with seasons 1-5.

Thanks for hearing me out, please feel free to add with your thoughts, I’m open to all opinions!

anonymous asked:

There are so many twists and a few obvious plot twists but everything was so intense. The relationship that has crumbled between KA and LZ as well as Haggars and the past paladins is rather amazing. I've fallen in love with this, but this was quite rushed. As much as I enjoyed it being posted faster, the pacing was rather rushed and a bit overwhelming. Other way it's still amazing. What was your favorite part?

Duuuuude. I Was having such a hard time keeping up with the plot after all this sexy Shiro from episode 5.

I feel like I had a Shiro overdose and a Keith overdose and a sheith overdose haha


I loved everything honestly!!!! 

The history of the paladins felt rushed yeah and kinda very umm robotic I guess in some parts, but they still managed to make em all lovable in such a short time. 

And Haggar/Zarkon love story, ofcourse. And no Lotor???

Where the hell did Lotor come from??

Allura’s mom is just a trophy wife, she had like no personality (and really big boobs haha) that made me laugh. I hope there’s more of her, she’s like such an ignored character.

I didn’t like young Haggar so much.. And I wish there was more of the other paladins.


Lance had some cool moments, Allura is just adorable, and ALLURANCE RISES

The AU part is interesting, but expected. And also felt rushed. That’s where Keith comes from I guess.

Shiro clone confirmed.

The dramatic Shiro moment had me holding my breath whispering “save him keith save him cmon keith save him”, it wasn’t as intense as I thought it would be, but it was definitly emotional.

Sheith is a full blown love story at this point.

Lotor is actually interesting, I dun hate him as much as I thought I would.

I think my fav parts were all the Keith parts. I LOVE HIM. AND I LOVE HIM AS LEADER. I’M JUST UGHHHHHH KEITH YOU’RE SO AMAZING.


Just this season was so gooood but ended too sooooooooooooon.

I don’t speak about my experiences in the astral as much as I used to when I first started going over “there” (and even then I didn’t share all that much due to people’s tendency to judge you about your own experiences, oh well), but I felt like making a post of what some of my experiences are like with each deity, feelings and things I may see when I’m with certain gods. I’ll go down my lineup.

Nit: Somber, serious, a deep love. Massive dark temples with rooms lit by a single candle, heavy incense scent and smoke. Clothing the color of clotted blood, golden jewelry that glows like embers of a fire. A sense of danger in the air but I know that I am safe in her presence. She holds her arms open to welcome me in and she smiles with the history of eons shining through her eyes.

Yinepu: He emits a glowing warmth among the coldness of a darkened room. Jars, vials, bowls, an aroma of chemicals and burning tar among embalming tools. Faded linens stained with time. Torches placed throughout a windowless chamber. Long elaborate tunnel systems, false doors and hallways, secret passages, I get lost and he grins from the shadows as I try to find my way back to him. A simple room with a soft bed, a lot of books at a plain desk. He teaches me many things in just his expressions. Meals shared in silence, his presence alone is all I need.

Set: danger and fear. Bright red flashes through jet black darkness. Traveling through the sky dodging the lightening and feeling the rumble of thunder. Fire roaring and enclosing in around me, the heat energizes me. Clashing weapons, barred teeth, bruises, spilled blood. Standing on the edge of a desert at sunset. His laugh is the distant rumble of a storm approaching in the darkened sky. Feeling utterly broken, crying ugly tears. He kneels and places a hand on my shoulder as he prepares to send me off to rebuild. I always win, even if it seems as though I’ve lost it all. 

Hethert: Sunshine in an oasis. Massive feasts with every fruit and dessert imaginable. Dancers, musicians and revelers as far as the eye can see. Exotic flowers entwined in long cascading hair. Gold and turquoise jewelry flashes on exposed skin. Warm sand on bare feet. Rich, vibrant flowing gowns and shawls twirl in the wind to the rhythm of the drums and sistrums. She is large and bright and beaming. Love pours forth from her like a waterfall. She squeezes me tight and leads me to an extravagant room filled with the sound of a bubbling fountain, the wind blowing through the palm trees growing right outside the windows. She brushes my hair and places jewelry on me in front of an elaborate vanity. She gives me another hug and kisses my cheek and tells me I’m beautiful.

Sobek-Ra: Scorching sunlight reflecting off of a slowly moving river. A heavy, rough, calloused hand placed on my scarred shoulder. He is tall in his human form but is mind blowingly massive as a crocodile. Muscles, pointed teeth, growls, brutality. Sweat pours from my skin. If I don’t fight and fight well, I may die, he will not step in to save me. Tests of strength and endurance are common but so are periods of rest and watchfulness. The taste of salt. Floating down a warm, murky river. The feeling of weightlessness in cold, clear depths, watching fish swim among aquatic plant life. Greenery and wildlife are teeming around the waters. Basking in the warmth of the sun, drying our soaking wet skins in the sand. Pride and fatherly love emanate from him.Though his jaws are fixed in an eternal smile, I know he truly means this one as he looks at me sitting by his side. 

no-destiny  asked:

Hey! I just found your blog and now I'm in love with it. So, I felt free to make some questions! First I wanna ask about a post, tagged in the "Celtic History" link, where you said that Ireland was mentioned in the Viking Sagas and that the Vikings where also said in the Ireland History. Can you say more about it and give some examples? Cause I really like both cultures. And can you suggest me some good folk bands and musics about Viking and Celtic? Congratulations for your amazing blog!


I am so very glad to hear that! The hard work pays off when I receive such warm words. I would be more than happy to give more detail about Ireland being mentioned in Icelandic sagas (and vice versa). It is one of my favorite aspects of Viking History, since I also love both cultures. (I will discuss this with Njal’s saga below). As for folk bands and music, I may not be so helpful (at the moment). I know one good group (that I myself recently learned of) for the Scandinavian side. I would suggest you check out Wardruna if you haven’t already. I believe they are a Norwegian group and their music is phenomenal.

I do not know enough Irish literature yet to name good sources where Vikings show up. I know that they are referred to quite a bit in the Annals of Ulster, but that work merely provides a few sentences about each major event that happened in a given year. However, I do know that there is an Irish version of an event that appears in Njal’s Saga: The Battle of Clontarf (1014 CE). This was a very important battle in Ireland’s medieval history, for it was the battle for Ireland’s High King (the only High King Ireland has ever had) to maintain his control over Ireland. What is most interesting about this, though, is that the Vikings were right at the center of this. In fact, Ireland may have never had a High King if it were not for the Viking settlement of Dublin.

Chapters 154 to 157 of Njal’s saga actually take place during this event in Ireland. A few characters from Iceland go abroad and end up serving as mercenaries in the battle. These chapters also give some level of insight into historical figures such as Earl Sigtrygg of Dublin and Brain Boru (the High King of Ireland). Here is a quote from the saga about Brain Boru:

“King Brain pardoned outlaws three time for the same crime, but if they did it again he let them be dest with according to law, and from this is can be seen what sort of king he was.”

This quote ties in with the themes of the saga quite well and shows a bit of respect for Brian Boru from this Icelandic author. Brain Boru actually married Sigtrygg’s mother so that he would have rights to rule over the vikings of Dublin. In other words, he married in with the Vikings so that he could control the settlement without having to get rid of them. Although it may seems contradictory, the Vikings actually brought a lot of wealth to Ireland. The developed towns that had international trading contacts that Ireland never had before. Brain Bori took advantage of these, which can be seen even in the historical memory of the Icelanders writing this saga. If you want more on Brain Boru, feel free to ask. I have written a few essays on him and the battle of Clontarf as well as Viking Age Dublin.

Though those chapters do not have much to do with the story itself, it preserves the historical memory of such a battle. At the very least, the fact that this battle is included in a later medieval saga shows that it was well known and important even to Icelanders.

The Irish source for this event is called Cogad Gáedel re Gallaib (The War of the Irish with the Foreigners). I have not personally read this yet, but apparently you can read an outdated version on achieve.org for free, if you are interested.

I would like to give more detail of Njal’s saga, but I am not quite sure it would be helpful since you have not read the saga (I assume). If you want more detail on that saga specifically, send me another ask and I will focus more on providing you the details needed to sum up those chapters. If you want more on the Battle of Clontarf, check out my post about Viking Age Dublin (assuming that is not the post you already referred to).

I have not gotten around to reading all of the sagas, but there are many, many occasions of Irish people being in Iceland. One notable case is in the Laxdæla saga, in which one of the characters is an Irish princess. Sometimes it is just a simple reference and nothing more, but sometimes you will find chapters dedicated to events like Clontarf. They are really easter eggs for those interested in Ireland as well as Iceland and the Vikings. 

One day, I will try to bring a lot of that together and discuss this in more detail. I hope my answer is somewhere around what you were hoping for. If you want more detail about Njal’s saga (one of the more popular sagas when it comes to references to Ireland and events in Ireland), feel free to let me know. I can happily provide more insight, but it will require some time for me to research, read, and write the response. I did provide a few examples, so if you would like to look into those sources, I will provide links to them below. If you would like more sources on Viking/Irish interactions, let me know and I can provide those as well.

Again, I hope that was helpful. If not, simply send another ask and I will do better or give more detail. Thank you very much for asking!

Sources to explore:

  1. Njal’s Saga (mainly chapters 154-157) <link>
    1. OR, you can get the Viking Age Reader, which has this and more. <link> Though, I would be happy to provide some of that for you in a post if you wanted me to. Just send an ask if you do.
  2. Laxdæla saga <link>
  3. Annals of Ulster (mainly the years 841-1014 CE) <link>
  4. Cogad Gáedel re Gallaib <link>
faenavi replied to your post “So I just wanted to say thank you because it is because of you that I…”

So I’m trying to be positive in the arrow fandom because I love Laurel but I feel negative to anyone who’s hurt her you know what I mean like Oliver and Sara and even Felicity do you have any words of what I should do to help stop this

I would say it really helps to view that character through Laurel’s eyes and understand that even though they’ve done stuff that’s hurt her, she still loves them and cares about them and they’re still important to her. I loved Sara Lance when she was first on the show, and somewhere along the way I started to really dislike her. Getting more Laurel/Sara scenes, and seeing their bond and understanding how important she is to Laurel and her journey… I think the stuff that annoys you about that character gets trumped by enjoying the bond they share with Laurel. I love the “Canary sisters” even though I’m mad Sara did Laurel so dirty. I bought the Black Canary action figure and I had to buy Sara’s with it because I was like “she needs her sister dammit.” So I think that might help you if you want feel less negative about some of the characters. Laurel loved Oliver, and she forgave him. She loved her sister. She loved her father. They may have hurt her, but they’ll always be important to her, and looking at them through that lens – through Laurel’s lens – I think it helps paint them in a better light because Laurel treasured all of them in her life. 

I think, in general, if you love a character and dislike another… the writers pairing them up for scenes help you to minimise the hate and maybe even like that character. I think “Black Smoak” (Laurel/Felicity) helped draw a bridge for Laurel and Felicity fans to get along. For me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Diggle until Season 4 when he warmed up to Thea and Laurel, and I saw aspects of his character that I really liked. I loved him in Season 1, but I think he can get drowned out in the “OTA” of it all and so his interactions with Thea and Laurel made me go, “oh, I really like Diggle actually.” So if you want to like Sara more then watch more of her moments with Laurel – I particularly enjoy the scene where Sara talks about being given the name Canary, and I really enjoy their moment in the Legends pilot – and with Felicity, I’d recommend the “Canaries” scene where she tells Laurel to be herself. And with Oliver, there’s five seasons of material between him and Laurel to watch back. Yes, they fought, but I always felt like their conflict showed how much history was between them and it enhanced everything for me as a viewer. And they have plenty of scenes that I think demonstrate how much Oliver loved her and how much she loved him that don’t involve the two butting heads. 

But ultimately, I just want to say that having legitimate reasons for not liking a character or a relationship doesn’t make you negative or mean that you’re being negative for voicing those complaints and those reasons. I’ve written posts about the shit Sara has done to Laurel, and I’ve answered asks where I’ve talked about how much it bugs me what she’s done. But I love Laurel and Sara’s dynamic. I wish the show/s gave us more of it. And I like Sara Lance, whilst still having what I feel are “legitimate reasons” to dislike her treatment of Laurel in the past. So yeah. That’s my “advice” if you can call it that, haha! 

aprillikesthings replied to your photo “So this weirdness just happened to me.  I know tumblr often makes…”

also by ffa do you mean fail fandom anon or something else?

only people who were part of ffa know what ffa was

Nah I’ll explain it properly, I just felt like being cryptic for a moment there.  On Livejournal, you probably remember, there was a popular celebrity gossip/entertainment news community called Oh No They Didn’t!  From ONTD lots of spinoff communities started for discussion of specific TV shows, bands, et cetera.  I was part of ontd_startrek and ontd_lost.  Every Friday ontd_lost would have a Free For All Friday or FFA where you didn’t have to keep your posts or comments on-topic to Lost, you could bring up anything and it was all jokes and memes and excessively personal anecdotes.  We had fun.  After Lost ended and the community wound down, some members who’d really enjoyed the FFAs started a new community called ffa_forever to have fun in, and I was one of them.  When Livejournal began to die and a lot of us relocated to Tumblr we became mutuals and a big part of my dash is still FFA alumni who I call my ffairies.  It makes me happy that they’re still my friends.  And a couple of people from the Star Trek community too.


I saw a post awhile ago from a white Jewish person who felt uncomfortable fighting antisemitic black goyim and this is perfectly understandable because there is a racial disparity that we must be mindful of.  That being said, by not fighting antisemitic black goyim - like the Black Hebrew Israelites in the video above who are goysplaning Jewish history to two Ethiopian Jewish women - we are throwing black Jewish people under the bus and we are not making our community an inclusive one.

“Triggered!!!!” From a Trauma Survivor: Cut It the Fuck Out

TW: sexual assault, PTSD

It is said that the essence of a person can be most accurately assessed by how they treat those who can do nothing for them. So, I suppose it follows that to the closet Garbage Person, the anonymity offered by the Internet is deliciously appealing. Behind the safety of a screen, people say things to strangers that would be unthinkable to utter aloud. People can be unfathomably rude – abusive, even – when no one is watching.

A common Internet retort to someone – usually a woman – who exhibits an emotional response that the reader finds somehow wrong or unreasonable, is to make a “joke” along the lines of, “Looks like someone’s triggered!”

I’ve learned to thicken my skin when browsing the Internet. I’ve learned to ignore blatantly cruel remarks. I’ve learned not to “feed the trolls.”

However, as a survivor of repeated sexual abuse and assault, and as someone who has spent a decade living with C-PTSD and tens of thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours in therapy trying to heal, nothing quite makes my blood boil like “triggered!” jokes. So, my question is this:

Would you look me in the eye while I’m writhing in bed; my chest heaving with labored, terrified breaths; my whole body shaking as a flashback rips through my brain like a knife through soft butter…

…when I’m startled awake in peaceful pitch darkness by a nightmare, screaming into the nothingness, “stop!”, “please don’t hurt me!”, with tears streaming down my cheeks…

…when I’m in public and my brain turns to cotton and I suddenly struggle to remember my own name, my awareness sinking inversely alongside my rising panic, scrambling to find either my own mind or a socially acceptable reason to hide myself, whichever I manage to throw together first…

…when despite the best efforts of the people around me; despite them shouting my name, shaking me, attempting to shock me into reality with ice, hot tea, cold water, everything they can find; I can’t be convinced that my assailant isn’t on top of me at that very moment, jamming himself into me, tearing me apart, and stealing my mind again…

and scoff, “Looks like someone’s triggered!”?

No? Well, why not? That is, after all, what a “trigger” actually looks like.

Please remember: it is not your place to judge what is or isn’t okay for other people to feel. It’s not your right, and it’s not your decision. You don’t get to determine whether someone else’s pain is legitimate, or if they just have a “victim complex.”

And, really, fuck the concept of “victim complexes.” When my life has eroded to wilted pieces of what it could have been because of someone else’s actions; when I have been shattered and I am left to pick up the glass shards of my sanity while my body and mind bleed and my rapists live consequence-free lives; and when there are millions of us suffering alone because you have taught us to feel ashamed, it’s not a fucking “complex” anymore. It’s just reality. Do some people want undeserved attention, validation, and to be “special snowflakes”? Sure. But some – too many – of us are silent among the crowd. You can’t see us, but we are listening, and we hear your message loud and clear. All we want is to be normal. All we want is a life worth living. All we want is not to feel “triggered.” We do not want to be this way. We didn’t ask for this. Many of us would give anything to rewrite history. But the fact of the matter is, for the millions living with PTSD, triggers are a cold, painful fact of our lives, and they are horrible. They are torture. And they are not fucking funny.

“Triggered” jokes mock survivors and people with psychological injuries of all kinds.

“Triggered” jokes send the message that we are the ones who should be ashamed, not the ones who felt entitled to harm us and steal our livelihood.

“Triggered” jokes tell me that I am responsible for what my trauma has created, and that it is somehow a character flaw that I am imposing on others.

“Triggered” jokes tell people like me that we do not matter.

“Triggered” jokes are cruel.

Please, think about what you say before you say it. There are people behind the screen reading the comments you make and the posts you write. Someone with a life, a history, and feelings that matter as much as yours do, is reading your words. Stop the cycle of shame. Stop victim-blaming. It starts with you, and you can start by refusing to make these awful “jokes.”

Ok so I forgot to make a post about what happened yesterday because I felt like it was worth the share.

Yesterday the first good thing that happened was that I got a paper allowing me to get out of school during lunch to go eat off campus so whoohoo

The next thing is that in the same class I got the paper in (it’s history) my teacher was telling us how this idk I forgot his name roman emperor wanted to grow cabbages when he retired and I yelled out “goals” bc I can relate. He didn’t know what goals were so I tried to explain it to him but this bitch named nick was like “she said gyot” over and over again which means “gay” in Armenian and as you might know the majority of Armenians are Christian so this is a common way of shitting on someone if your in the younger generation. (I even made up this rhyme to shit on him back. Nickolas dicklis sucked a picklis for five cents) then I turn to that little fucker who’s on the other side of the class and I yelled out “shut the fuck up you little bitch” the whole class went “ooooooh”. Mr ashman was a little put off by my swearing but at the end of class he told me to come talk to him. He said that he hated how the school doesn’t document bullying (and I’ve told my teachers that I’ve been bullied since middle school but never really did anything about it until last year where I had to go tell the office about something they were calling me that made me stressed out to the point of crying. And i have cried. Twice in class.) so he gave me a +5 of behavior for the day bc I defended myself. And a +5 is like an A+ and he gave dicklis a 0. It was then that I could actually explain it to him what it meant if someone said goals. He’s around 70, but probably the best teacher I have since he’s like?? Really chill and stuff like you could be his friend any day. Like idk I might be his fav student and not know.

The final thing that happened was at lunch where someone in the group of rejects (I go there bc I’m a reject myself) was like starving so I rip out three fresh dollars from my backpack and I said “HERE GO BUY YOURSELF SOME FOOD” she said “omg no” so I get up, to the the nearest vending machine and buy her a bag of fucking Doritos. I run back, throw it in her lap, and yell “THIS IS FOR YOU” and I even offered some of my own food to her.

Yesterday was probably the best day I’ve ever experienced in regards to school

New Kids In Town

Anonymous: Im dying to read chapter four of your fanfic!

Anonymous: When is chapter 4 of new kids in town going to be posted? I love it so far!

Dean x Reader

New Kids In Town: Chapter 4

Word Count: 2,254

Warnings: alcohol, mention of death

A/N: Oh God, guys, I am so sorry that this took so long. I had the worse writers’ block in history. I feel awful for it being so long to post this, but here it is! It’s a little long, but hopefully that can make up for lost time. I hope you like it! Shout out to my babe, theperksofbeingginny !

The wind had died down to a soft and cool breeze. You felt the heat of Dean’s gaze on your back as you walked away from him, letting your feet carry you away to an unknown destination. You couldn’t feel anything at the moment. Everything in your body was numb and silent; the strong and somehow steady beat of your heart was the only evidence that you were even alive.

“Dean, for the love of all that is holy, go away,” you spat out, feeling the venom of your words roll off your tongue. You were so tired; every bone in your body felt like it weighed It was like you were dragging yourself.

“Why? It’s dark and things go bump in the night. I’m not letting you walk by yourself. It’s too dangerous,” he said back, his words echoing off the trees and gliding gently through the wind.

“I’m not a child, Dean!” You swung your body around to stare the beautiful pools of green. “I don’t need you to walk me everywhere. I don’t need you to treat me like I’m five. I’m a hunter. I can fend for myself.”

Dean stood with shock waving over his features, not saying a word, but continued to walk towards you. He walked with broad shoulders and a confident glare. A sick feeling rushed to your stomach.

“I don’t care what the hell you are,” whispered Dean, his face close to your own. “You could be an angel, a monster, or a hunter. But hunters die when they’re on their own and your blood will not be on my hands.”

There was something in his eyes that shone brighter than any star ever could. It reminded you of the pain and grief you saw in your own.

“What happens to me is none of your concern, Dean,” you said softly, feeling the heaviness in your bones worsen. You were surprised you were still standing. Your head began to feel slightly light, and you couldn’t shake off this sensation.

“I have booze in my car. Instead of walking off to God knows where, we can drink back at the motel. Okay?” Dean said tenderly, taking your hand in his own. You stared down at your hands, comparing how much smaller and more soft looking your hands are to Dean’s. He had tiny scars tracing one another over his palms and fingers. You had an itch to draw his hands.

“Okay.” He carefully led you back towards the motel, not letting go of your hand. You thought that you’d feel electric currents course through your veins, but you were too tired to feel anything but the pressure of the wind and Dean’s hand.

You were back at the motel and Dean wasn’t lying. He pulled out bottles and bottles of whiskey and scotch. He placed himself on top of his Impala’s trunk and offered you his hand once more.

Gladly taking it, you pulled yourself onto the trunk and took the bottle of whiskey in his hand. You took a long, burning swig of the alcohol and waited for the warm numbness to engulf your body; it did not even a minute later.

“Since I’m giving you my drinks, we might as well figure out each others dark side and forget it in the morning,” Dean said, taking a drink from his bottle. You looked over at him, watching the glow of his sandy brown hair shine brightly off the moonlight.

You chuckled slightly and murmured, “Alright. What do you want to know?” Dean looked over at you, and your heart fluttered for a moment in your chest. You wanted to lean in, just enough to brush your lips together, but you were still sober enough to tell yourself no.

“How did you get into hunting?” The warmth in your body left immediately and was replaced by a ice cold chill. You’ve dreaded this question your whole hunting life. Ever since that night…

“So, yeah. I did,” you said quietly, taking another long and burning drink from your bottle. You both fell silent for a some time before he asked, “Did?”

“Yeah, I did. But, they’re all dead now. I was thirteen and they were like new red paint on my living room walls. Literally. A couple of demons came in the middle of the night and killed them. And I’ve been on my own hunting them down and anything else ever since.”

Dean’s eyes widened as you finished your quick summary of your odd life. You had begun to accept what happened to your family a little more each day, but it still hurt to talk about it. Some would say that it was like cutting open a freshly healed wound repeatedly.

“Sammy and I, we weren’t as close as we are now,” Dean said with a touch of long time sadness in his tone. You weren’t exactly sure what he was doing, but you didn’t bother to stop him.

“Growing up, he always wanted a normal life. He wanted to stay at one school and be able to dream about girls and books. But, he instead got to dream about the monsters we hunt and what really happened to our mother that night. And when he did, I tried to be there for him as much as I could. That was the hardest thing I ever did. I spent my whole protecting him and feeling guilty about not doing a good enough job. And then when he graduated, he left me like I was nothing. Everything I ever did for him, and he just left without coming back for three years.”

You were quiet for a long period of time; words had abandoned you and left you feeling the wind of the cool night. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hand slipped into Dean’s and warmth drowned your body.

“'Heat of the Moment’ is my favorite song,” you heard yourself say. Dean looked over at you with blazing green eyes, his lips pulling to the side. He stroked his thumb back and forth on your hand, sending your atoms to burn.

“I think ‘Cherry Pie’ is a great song to strip to.” You felt your body explode with laughter and the sound of joy dripped into your ears. A deep rumble vibrated through your body, making you look up at Dean with wide and worry eyes.

He smiled and looked up at the sky, his eyes lighting up to be almost a neon, but not quite, green. A chill slipped down your back as you figured out that it was thunder. And now it was rain.

“We should get inside. You’ll get sick if you get wet,” Dean said quietly, sliding down from the Impala’s trunk and lifting you up into his arms. You didn’t fight his strong and comforting touch. You could feel the alcohol weighing down your limbs. You were sure that if you tried to walk on your own, you’d fall flat on your face and embarrass yourself more than you needed.

Rain slid down your cheeks, cooling your warm touch. Dean quietly opened the motel door and slipped you gently down on the bed. The sheets greeted you with a soft brush, making your mind immediately tire. Dean laid next to you, inches away from your wet body.

“You don’t need to be so far away,” you whispered, not wanting to wake the younger Winchester. You saw a smile spread over Dean’s lips through the terrible lighting coming from the slightly open window. The sound of rain pounded on the roof above you, sending a rush of relief through your heavy frame.

From where you laid, you could see the dark clouds covering the blue sky that was trying to break through. It reminded you of when you were younger and innocent. You always were happy when it rain. Your grandmother had told you that rain was the Angels tears of love. But after everything you had been through, you knew that it only rained because of the moisture in the air. And it had made you overflown with sadness.

You felt Dean bring you closer to him; wrapping his arms around you waist and placing your hands on his chest, you instantly felt sleep pull you forward. It wasn’t long before you were drifting off to sleep. Before you were completely unconscious, you heard soft and truthful word come from Dean.

“Don’t go leave me, okay? Please…” you weren’t able to hear the rest of him because you had been consumed by darkness.

Dean had known what he was doing the whole time with Y/n. He knew that pulling her to his chest and wrapping himself around her was going to hurt him. He knew that holding her hand and carrying her into the motel was going to puncture his heart. He knew that catching her scent was going to put him into the grave. But he couldn’t stop himself.

Dean wasn’t able to sleep. His mind was racing at every thought that came to his mind and every sound that he mistakenly heard. He was being protective, he realized. Because he had people he cared about in the same room as him. He was always careful with his little Sammy, but now he had Y/n in the middle of it all as well.

The clouds covered the sky, making Dean’s body feel heavy and tired. He would sleep, but he had to stay awake, alert. The sounds of Y/n’s deep breathing made it harder for Dean. He couldn’t be here.

Dean had learned that being a hunter, you couldn’t have relationships. Sometimes you couldn’t even have family, but Dean knew he and Sam were lucky enough to have their father for as long as they did. He also learned that you have to cut off all ties with the normal world. You weren’t allowed to mow the lawn and go to church一on normal occasions. Not to kill a demon or summon an Angel. Dean knew all these things, and yet, he still wished he could.

The rain poured a little harder now, the sound making it easier for Dean to stay awake. At this moment, he could breathe. His Sammy was okay, Y/n was….safe, and the world stopped spinning. Dean felt as if he could count every atom in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to Y/n, but more to himself. He carefully tried to remove Y/n from his hold, but it was like tearing out an artery. Pain shot through him, forcing Dean to bite his lip to keep from crying out. He didn’t want to let go; Y/n was the only thing at the moment holding him down to Earth.

He unwillingly released Y/n, and the pressure returned to his chest. He took a second to catch his breath before he walked over to Sam and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Sam shot up in the bed, and Dean had to cover his mouth to keep him from yelling out.

“Shh, Sammy. We need to leave,” Dean hushed through gritted teeth. This was going to kill him.

“What? Why?” Sam carefully crawled out of bed, trying not to make a noise. For such a big man, Sam was surprisingly silent.

“Sam, I need you to trust me on this one, okay? Please, just trust me…” Dean could hear the desperation in his tone. Sam must’ve noticed it too since he placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder and nodded.

Sam grabbed his duffel bag and walked to the bathroom. Dean could no longer stand and sat down on the other bed, his hands clenching into fists and he stared at the beautiful and sleeping Y/n.

He had to do this; he had no choice. Dean knew what happened when he grew close to people, he knew how he affected them, it was never good. She looked so peaceful, innocent. There were no lines of worry in your face and no stress pulling and stretching her skin. Y/n reminded Dean of an angel statue he had once saw while driving through a small town; strong, broken, and alive.

Dean reached out to push back a stubborn piece of hair from Y/n’s face一

“Dean!” Sam whispered harshly, walking towards his brother and grabbing Dean’s duffle bag. Dean stood up and didn’t look up to meet Sam’s gaze. He knew what he was thinking. Dean, what the hell are you doing? Why am I up to early? I love you brother, but really, what’s the point?

“C’mon, Sam. Don’t make a sound,” Dean said, his voice thick and scratchy. It felt like he was speaking through broken glass and knives. Sam nodded and opened the door to the motel, putting the bags away and sitting in the Impala, waiting for Dean.

Dean took one long, last look at Y/n sleeping, knowing he was burning her face into his mind. He didn’t want to forget one single detail about her. Not the way her voice sounded like honey in his ears; the way she unintentionally swung her hips while she walked; not the way her gaze made Dean’s lungs collapse. Not a damn thing.

Closing the door behind him, he let the rain try and cleanse the scent of her body from his skin. No matter how much water poured over and onto his body, he’d never forget her.

I remember the effect the Sandy Hook Aurora shootings had on my Facebook feed. I remember the gun lovers blaming mental illness and could almost hear them gripping their guns tighter.
I remember the outrage over the Paris bombings on my feed. I remember the people who changed their profile pictures to offer support and in the same sweep demand refugees not be allowed into the country.
I expected outrage for this tragedy to flood my feed after hearing of the Orlando shooting. I expected my mostly conservative feed to send prayers or make some sort of comment on the worst shooting in US history. I expected the erasure of the fact that it was a gay nightclub.
I did NOT expect my feed to remain quiet.
I have shared article after article of the event. I’ve shared their faces although I still refuse to share his. I’ve shared people’s reactions and yet only a handful of people have liked and commented on my posts. It’s the same handful that have been out or felt the need to come out this weekend.
Others have been quiet on the matter.
Others keep living their lives.
Other *can* keep living their lives apparently.

The quiet’s unsettling.
Had it been a random nightclub, articles would be shared. Had it been a random nightclub, I’d see the gun control debate back on my feed.
But this wasn’t a random nightclub and as a result, my feed is quiet.
The quiet scares me.

Oh hello! I decided to do a little follow forever thing. Not for any special reason other than I felt like it. I have a huge long list of people to address personally, so that may take awhile. Bear with me (see what I did there?)

@zenlikejen- My Jen. We came into this fandom around the same time and kept liking and reblogging each other’s posts before one of us finally sent a message. The rest is kind of history, I guess? We scream together, cry together, laugh together. She tells me to go to bed when I’ve had too much to drink, which is more often than I’ll say. Tumblr besties, more like sisters really. She never, ever makes me feel silly, small, or stupid. She always listens to my ridiculous theories and research. She encourages me to see the positive. She is the Niall to my Liam and I love her very much. Jenlee is the realest.

@larrymama- Speaking of sisters! My sister doesn’t get the credit she deserves, really. Talk about someone who never makes me feel silly and usually comes up with the best parts of my theories just by making these little land mine suggestions. It’s so wonderful to have someone “in real life” who I can talk about all of these things with and whose so encouraging and lovely. She’s just my favorite person in the history of ever. She’s always there, she always listens. I’m just really fucking lucky to have someone like her in my actual life off of the internet, ya dig?

@lululawrence- Susette, my doll face. My warm cinnamon muffin. My sugary sweet apple strudel. You are one of the most affectionate, warm, caring people I’ve ever had the privilege to meet! When we met, I squeaked because I had been seeing you everywhere on tumblr. Thank you for always making me feel safe and cared for. Thank you for being a shelter for me to feel heard, understood, respected, and loved. Thank you for always being the kindest person I’m blessed to know. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for being the Rry to my Li.

@ilove1dalmation- Jeni, I don’t honestly know what the fuck I would actually do without you. The two of us are so much more similar than I could have ever known standing outside a Detroit bar this August. All I knew was there was this bouncing girl who was super smol and in a rainbow tutu with the best laugh I’d ever heard. And now look at us. I get sad on days I don’t hear from you. When I’m mad about something, you can make me laugh more than anyone else. Your voice messages are some of the things I look forward to most every day. Thank you for always understanding. Thank you for being the Lo to my Li.

@someonethatsfunny- “Like Zayn, but in the best way”. You are so much more bright and cared for and carING than you give yourself credit for. Smart and sharp as a whip, you remind me to always be happy and screaming about the good things. You have fire and passion just like me, you get super mega pissed about the same things I do, and I know you’re always good to talk to. You’re one of the best people I know for bouncing ideas off of and you also remind me not to take everything so seriously. Thank you for always checking on me. Thank you for being my Z. I love you very very much.

@saracha33- I don’t even know what to say about you. When you swooped in to back me up about what Liam was actually saying at GMA, I had no idea that you’d become one of my best friends. Southern hospitality with a razor’s edge of sarcasm and a biting tongue and I love every bit of it. You never fail to ask someone about their mother, brother, significant other. You remember things I always forget. Your knowledge base is truly astounding and even if you’ve got personal things going on, you always think of other people. I’m usually in awe of you, that’s become a regular thing for me. Thank you for grounding me and being a sounding board. I love you.

@bearmustard- My favorite Strayan! You’ve taught me more about myself and how to get to know myself than I think I’ve ever told you. You’re so incredibly intelligent and you think things through in a way that I could never stop admiring. Your sense of humor is wicked and out of the box and even though your intelligence is a thing of great envy for me, I think it’s your humor that made me love you as much as I do. You, Sarah, and I have been through a lot and I remember well the day we all thought for sure BG was ending and it didn’t and my emotions went haywire and you brought me back. I never said thank you for that: so thank you for being you. I love you, too.

@silentlarryshipper- Tin Tin! Every time someone asks me one of the nicest people I know in this fandom, you are my response. Every time I can’t remember something and need an answer, you’ve already got that answer. You’re so incredibly giving and kind and I’ve never heard you utter a bad word about a single person. I think more people deserve the chance to know you because of how truly wonderful you are. You never fail to send me a message to check on me if I’ve said I’m sick, under the weather, sad, etc. You never fail to congratulate me and celebrate with me if something good happens. You’re the best.

@daysundercover- Daylet, friend, you’re amazing. I don’t think I ever thanked you for calling me to calm me the fuck down the day BG dropped. I was so ready to walk that day, and your phone call kept me here. You’re as funny as they come and every bit as smart as you are funny, too. Your knowledge base is truly astounding and your ability to analyze and think critically is one of the many reasons I admire you as much as I do. You keep me grounded and inspire me to emotionally unwind, devest, and recharge. Basically, you keep me sane most of the time. In a world where insanity and chaos rule, people like you are so, so important. I’m super thankful we started talking because without you I basically would have been “fuck this shit, I’m out” by now.

@jackstylinson- Jacky! I’m so glad you came to that group chat. Truly. You make me laugh out loud on an almost daily basis. You’re super chill most of the time, which I love, but you know when it’s time to lose chill and freak out. (I’m not sure how you have that down so perfectly, but I love it!) Sometimes you say these head canon-y things that make me want to hug you and punch you at the same time and I’m pretty sure you’ve started building a home on the naughty step since we’re constantly yelling at you to go there, but you bring an ability to laugh to our conversations that is crucial. Thank you so much.

@breathing–for-this-moment- Jamie. Listen to me. There is no other person in the world I would have ever, ever, ever let see me that drunk besides members of my own immediate family. You are a beautiful, artistic, lovely soul of an individual and I am privileged to know you. When I see your name start typing, I get happy and excited because I love talking to you that much. Funny as can be, smarter than you give yourself credit for, every bit as sweet and thoughtful as you are intelligent. I’m just really super lucky to be able to call you a friend of mine. Thanks for staying up with me late at night and having some of the best conversations. I’ll cherish them always.

@stylinsoncity- Chelsie, my love. I underestimated you once because I didn’t know you. My (huge, gigantic, awful) mistake. You are so, so, so smart. And amazingly kind. You make me laugh. We have similar tastes and outlooks on things, I could tell after one sort of long-ish conversation. I think perhaps my only regret is that we don’t talk more because, much like Jamie, every time I see you’re around, I’m happy that you are. Your presence is valuable, to be cherished. You’re filled to brimming with so much amazing potential and I think if I had to place confidence in any one person, it would be you. Mature beyond your years and someone I’m eternally thankful for.

@tositandadmire- Bec, I know I said Clare was my favorite Strayan, but you are gunning for that title. You’re such a wise, insightful human, and your presence has an instant calming effect over my mood. I feel much less chaotic when I speak with you, and the value of being able to have a calm, collected adult conversation with someone who sees me as an equal and treats me as such, there’s no replacement for that. And truly, there’s no replacement for you. Thank you for being there, you really have no idea how very much you mean to me and to many other people.

@stunning-stylinson- My Sugar Beet! Babe, I miss you when you’re gone. You are one of the funniest, kindest, most considerate people I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. I know you doubt yourself a lot, but please don’t because I’m telling you, you’re amazing. I wish I had known half as much about myself when I was your age as you do about yourself. You have such amazing potential and you act on it every day by being such an encouraging presence to me and so many other people. Precious cinnamon roll, too good and too pure. I love you!

@conscious–ramblings- Sheena, I feel much about you the same as I do about Bec. There’s something inherently calming about your presence. When we talk, I feel like I can express myself in a much calmer, more efficient manner and that’s such an important thing. You are, perhaps, one of the smartest people I’ve come across in this fandom and I value your knowledge greatly– not just of this industry, but of life in general. Thank you for creating a space around yourself that feels very safe and welcoming. It does not go unnoticed.

@nooelgallagher and @yoursongonmyheart - I’m putting the two of you together for obvious reasons. Chels, you make me laugh basically all of the time. Your background knowledge in this fandom and its history is second to none and should never be underestimated. Vicky, I found my brain twin when we started talking. Every time you say something I find myself basically clapping and shouting amen like I’m in church. The two of you together are simply diabolical and unable to be matched in humor and critical thinking.

@jawsandhobama - Jay, I remember the day I found out how old you were, I was astounded. Your maturity makes me envious, truly. Your self-awareness is something to be envied and your intelligence blows my mind. You’re kind and thoughtful of all people that surround you, able to set parameters and borders of safety so much better than I was capable of at your age. Which sounds antiquated but is really a way of me saying I have incredible amounts of respect for you. You stand up for yourself and what you believe and try to engage people in conversation in a way that I will always admire. Thank you for reminding me that respectful dialogue is crucial to peace and harmony.

Okay, I’ve rambled on long enough about specific people. Just because these people don’t have paragraphs next to their names doesn’t mean I love them any less, just that I may know them a little bit less, and I plan on changing that if people are up for it! I’m not going to do any bold or italics because everyone’s my favorite! Also, no alphabetical order because nobody’s got time for that. (Except the people who do it every day. Respect!)

@duchessknowseverything // @claudiyah // @cyclonelouis // @ferntattoos // @infinitelymint // @cathuniverse // @anniepie73 // @verily-i-say // @jennfur // @boyfriendsandbandshirts // @bromanceshmomance // @lesbianslovelouis // @welovelarrytoo // @lourryetc // @merrykatie // @britishhusbands // @brianamontana // @ittybird // @safetypin-louis // @yslboner // @lornasaurusrex // @frenchyls // @hershelstagram // @donnysoldier // @beccasafan // @straightguysdont2 // @thistles-and-shamrocks // @bananastagram // @one-d-af // @legohousedea // @bulletproofhalo // @tobeloved-tobeinlove // @louisismyrainbow // @haydolce // @lucystarkid // @jointhelarrycult // @cupcakelaura1199 // @thisiskatsblog // @elceeu2morrow // @droppingtheveilofmaya // @littlescumbags // @cuethetommo // @allthelivelonglarry // @tellmethisisnotlove // @coolbreeeze // @thejungwirthbaby // @jimmytfallon // @corpidicarta // @killjoyncis // @feartasteslikearustyknife // @thebritishboyfriends // @saltygoodness // @birdonahotdog // @laynefaire // @supportinghalo // @theirstoryofevents // @harrybirthdaytoya // @usa-nglophile // @freddiesmyqueen // @larryappreciation // @dimpled-goodness // @rockyfan479 // @bullshitboyband // @fluffyyorkshirepudding // @cumlets // @fuckinghatekissingyou // @champagneboyband // @srslycris // @larendipity // @happy1days // @riverforasoulreason // @sexatoxbridge // @gyyls // @littlemuffindirection // @allegedlymags // @taydenmarie // @pudgyunicorn // @itslarrysfault // @crumblinghouseofcards // @fangirlingnotallowed // @cant-compete-with-my-boyfriend // @queer-almighty // @evancl // @jekneebee // @lapelosa // @buscandoelparaiso // @historyismyaesthetic // @santababyharrie // @vansandburberry // @scrufflecake // @diggingandfluff // @lewisandhorton // @tequiladimples // @vansandadidaslou // @wanderlust-stylinson // @viplourry // @zouisandchill // @supharrbad // @sugarcubelouis // @dodgeballlarrie // @messedupbclarry // @alovelikelarries // @twinks-larry // @applesaucelou // @beautifuldreamtimemachine // @ohnolarries // @iliveinlouisass // @avonstylinson // @ensconceinlouisandharry // @zaynieziallnialler // @tommostea // @happilyandstrong // @thekalehoe // @18lou16harry // @hazzacumcakes // @pink-ysl-boots // @liamslarents // @harolds-indie-tits // @stylinvevo // @bethaboolou // @since-he-was-eighteen // @hazandloudothedo // @hyperry // @lovemylarents // @ohthefond // @stylesforstiles // @sslarrysettingsail // @genuinelybelieve // @theboyfriends //

*I’m so sorry if I’ve forgotten anyone. It’s never, ever intentional.

anonymous asked:

Why did you reblog that post by avatarskorra and tag it with never let this die?? She doesn't like that post and it has caused hate and its messed up to reblog it. What did she ever do to you??

1. I did not know she felt that way about that popping the biggest bottles post. In fact, I had seen one of her mutuals reblog it a few months ago and she seemed to be joking about it and not minding it being online. There’s no real indication that she hates the post based on what I know and the original post isn’t deleted or tagged with something like “please don’t reblog this” so I’m not sure how I am to be expected to know that. Tumblrs format makes it incredibly difficult to track the history of a post, but I will try to track it better in the future.
2. I think it’s interesting that you seem to be accusing me of antagonizing or hating on her on purpose when that is not at all the case. I didn’t see the post as an attack or anything considering the op and the person who replied are friends and I didn’t mean to do anything but share a post I thought was funny. I have never condoned sending hate and actively tell my followers not to do that. I did not know that post had generated hate for op or others and I’m sorry for not doing a better job in tracking that. I’ll delete my reblog of it now.
3. What I think you should consider, anon, is that this is the same white girl who has sub posted my friends and I with rude things in the past and reblogged that post from a cishet/white/non Muslim guy saying I was a hypocrite and a bad Muslim who cared more about shipping wars than my faith. I think if you’re going to be in my inbox accusing me of not doing my research and reblogging something hateful and harmful by mistake you should really look into the people you’re trying to defend as well.

A Girl’s Best Friend

Well, this was inspired by this post reblogged by the lovely perfectlyrose from theapplepielifestyle.  It was a little Nine/Rose AU writing exercise for myself this weekend.  I, of course, also mapped out a whole headcanon history around it as well, so those bits and pieces might find their way up later on.  But for now, it’s just this! And it was fun to write!  Also, the visual of Nine’s dog was inspired by this post by clumsypumpkin, who makes amazing art you should go check out immediately.

Rose slowly began to drift back to a very painful consciousness, squeezing her eyes tight against the insistent light that was currently pouring in from somewhere very rude.  As her faculties began to drag themselves together (across what felt like a minefield littered with broken glass and her brother’s LEGO’s), she realized several things:

One - she was very, very hungover.  Which meant that last night she must have been very, very drunk.  


Two - The soft surface on which she was currently horizontal didn’t look, smell, or feel like anything in her flat.

Double bollocks.

Three - There was a very warm, living, breathing being clamped under her right arm.

Triple…oh, wait.

Well, that was curious.  Rose carefully cracked open an eye to confirm what her fingertips had, rather belatedly, conveyed to her brain.

The living object under her arm was a dog.  A very large dog, actually.

She was hungover, on a strange sofa, and she was spooning a dog.

Triple bollocks, after all.

Dear lord, what had she done last night?

Keep reading

10 Things I Love About The Walking Dead

1. Carol “The Fucking Queen of the Universe” Peletier. Seriously. She’s a smart, compassionate, ferociously loyal, beautifully protective, BAMFtastic survivor. Full stop.

2. The music the show chooses. I may get pissed off at the writing, but damn they do know how to pick excellent tunes.

3. Watching Daryl Dixon do anything. The man’s body is a work of art. Still not over the grenade jumpshot. Holy shit.

4. Judith Grimes. She’s not dead, okay?

5. Michonne’s smile. Every ep I cross my fingers that she’ll unleash it on Rick more often and cause him to extract his head from his ass. (Also everything else about Michonne — I want to know her backstory like woah.)

6. Daryl’s wings. They make my eyes and metaphor-hungry heart happy.

7. The fucking gorgeous cinematography. It might be the damn zombie apo, but there’s so much sunlight and bright blinding green.

8. Tyreese’s hat. Who the hell wears a hat meant to keep your head warm when you’re in Georgia with no ac? Tyreese does. And I adore it.

9. Epic eye fucks. If you could get knocked up from being stared to death with lust, Carol and Michonne would both be waddling at this point. Daryl would be the cutest most awkward dad in history, and Carl and Judith would have the cutest baby sibling ever.

10. “Just so you know, I liked you first.”