i love reading between the lines

Hey, I noticed a thing...

Techinically, the Prologue and the Finale are two sides of the same coin.  The Prologue takes place at night, with only the finest nobles and best singers attend—in the most outrageous outfits, I might add.  Everyone was there for the prince, and they didn’t dance with any other partners.  Even the song that Garderobe sings is about the prince’s arrogance, if you read between the lines.  The ballroom just oozes royalty.  Heaven forbid any of the villagers make an appearance there—even the staff just stand there, watching, not participating.  Doing nothing. But the Finale…I found it hard to believe that it took place in the same ballroom at first glance.  The sun streams through the windows, the villagers dance with their loved ones, and eyes are everywhere, not just on Adam.  Everything’s a lot less extravagant, but it’s far more beautiful than the Prologue.  In fact, the only ones wearing wigs at all are the staff, who are now participating in the merriment.  And in all honesty, I find the finale to be much more aesthetically pleasing.  In truth, the lighting does it all

But did anyone notice this?

Adam is wearing the exact same thing. Now, granted, they’re obviously two different outfits.  But the two outfits are of the same style—even the designs on the front are strikingly similar to each other.  Adam even sports a ponytail in both of these pictures.

But there’s one drastic difference (aside from the makeup) between these two pictures.  One is dressed like he just came out of a treasure trove, while the other is dressed like a prince of the people, someone that seems entirely approachable.  Not to mention the absolute picture of happiness.  In the finale, you can see the person that Adam truly is, the young prince that was only hidden behind layers of makeup and glitter and glory, like in the prologue.

It’s almost as if all that vanity and selfishness was peeled away by the magic of the curse.

WHY I LOVE U

Venus in Aries: I heard your laughter before I saw you. And then I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And after everyone had gone home we were still running around, or you were running I was just trying to keep up. You work hard, play hard and love even harder, but you like to try on a couple of sizes before you find the right fit. It’s the way you make me laugh at the most ludicrous things, the way you know exactly what you want and are not afraid to go and get it. You make me feel like anything is possible. Our love was like a tickle war turned makeout session, and I still remember the heat when our skin touched. There will never be anyone like you. 

Venus in Taurus: Being with you is like coming home. Like a perfect dream. Like lavender candles and cuddling up to a marathon of our favourite show. You kissing me between every episode. You don’t like playing games and you don’t like being rushed when falling in love. You take your sweet time, worshipping my body and my mind so my heart can’t help but follow. I remember those lazy Sundays, strolling through the furniture store, your hand in mine and we would pretend to decorate our future house. But all we came out with were more lavender candles and a burning lust for each other. You turn the mundane into something truly magical. 

Venus in Gemini: You drive me crazy, I never know where we stand. We spend the most incredible nights together and then I don’t hear from you in forever. Maybe that’s your style, you wanna look me in the eyes and not read my words on your phone. We sit for hours and people watch, making up backstories for them. When I’m with you I have no sense of time, all I can think about is your mischievous smile and the way you play with my hair. Your love is all-consuming, like nothing in the world matters to you more. With you my sense of reason is completely clouded, I’m yours for the night and every other night. If you’ll have me. 

Venus in Cancer: My hero, my sensitive babe. Your heart on your sleeve, that look in your eyes and I was yours forever. When you kissed me I could see our lives flashing before my eyes. Sitting on opposite sides of the sofa. Your nose in a book but your hand on me, like you needed to be connected to me or else you’d die. Every time you catch me staring at you I can’t help the grin on my face. You are fragile and strong, creating this protective space around us where we can just be together. I love how you’re not afraid of your feelings, and how you already named our kids even though we need to discuss it lol. You make it feel so real, like you are the missing piece of the puzzle. 

Venus in Leo: I remember the first time I met you, it all happened so fast. At a party, my friend introducing you and before I knew it your arms were around me. I remember melting into your hug, and the electricity in the air when we finally let go. Everyone else thought it was weird but we both knew, there was no turning back. Being with you feels like running through a field of flowers, faster and faster. Your laughter and your moans echo in my head. My legs feel like giving out but your hand refuses to let go of mine. It’s that smile after you say something clever, and they way you make me feel like it’s just me and you versus the world. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this loved. 

Venus in Virgo: You make me feel whole. Driving down the freeway blasting our songs, I can’t sing but you don’t care. Your hand on the stick shift and for some reason I got all hot inside. It’s the way you wrap your arms around me at the checkout line, like I’m yours and you don’t care who knows. You’re thoughtful and observant, you make me feel like I matter to you. And it’s not an act, you are actually that kind. I’m trying so hard to describe you, but all I can think about is that night when my family fell apart. You drew a bath with bubbles and you held me until the water went cold. Then we ate raspberries (my favourite) and watched Modern Family. And then you loved me until I didn’t feel like I was falling apart anymore. I think that describes you more than words ever could. You’re the one I see sitting next to me on our porch doing a crossword puzzle, in our old bodies. But it doesn’t scare me because your spirit is forever young. 

Venus in Libra: Being in love with you is so easy. Our first date was to the movies. You gave me a red poppy and held my hand the entire time, gently playing with my fingers. My heart was about to beat out of my chest but somehow I was calm, because you were. I love the way you talk so easy, with that breezy confidence. Like you’d never tell me a lie. The way you were charming and kind to everyone from the bus driver to the server at the pizza shop. After talking to each other all night in the park, it was the only place that was still open. My mum still asks about you. I think she loved you more than I did, and that’s saying something. 

Venus in Scorpio: God, the way you tear me apart and then put me back together. Over and over again. You of all people know that life isn’t always chocolates and roses. You’re not afraid of the ugliness of human nature, instead you try to find the silver lining, the beauty in the madness. You demand that I’m honest with you, and in turn you trust me with your own secrets. It created a bond beyond love, or maybe it was love. It just felt different, like it was based in reality and not a love story. You’ve seen me at my worst and still think I’m beautiful, because you see people’s souls. Nobody can hide their true nature from you for you are an expert of reading between the lines. Your animalistic passion penetrates deep, and everything becomes a haze of lust and obsession. Because if you’re not obsessed it’s just not worth it. I would trust you with my life, because you would sacrifice your own for the one you love. 

Venus in Sagittarius: We had just gotten comfortable on the top of the mountain we climbed when you hit me with “Do you think out of seven billion that some people have the same personality?” And you packed my favourite sandwich, tomato, mozzarella and basil. A moment of breathless kisses and triumph. Your strength made me feel strong too, and your devotion made my heart swell. You never stand still but it doesn’t matter, because you take me with you and always make sure I’m alright. You make me feel included, showing me off and introducing me to all your friends. I’ve never felt more proud than when I’m standing next to you. When you told me how much you loved me I knew it was true. 

Venus in Capricorn: The true romantic. What drew me in was that calm stare, you looked like trouble I swear I was gonna faint on the spot. You could keep up with me, and when you took my hand and said “Trust me?” I somehow believed you. But what made me fall for you was how you kept all your promises. Your presence is honest and true, the way you make me feel like I would never be alone, like I would always have a friend. I love falling asleep in your arms to your heartbeat. You’re gentle with me, I can feel your love in every touch. Your love made me believe I could do anything, because I knew you would stick by my side. If I asked you to. 

Venus in Aquarius: Keep it cool, that’s how you roll. Almost untouchable, but you let me touch you. It was like the seasons changed in seconds. You finished that last drop of champagne and said “Let’s get wet”, then we jumped in the pool. And then you kissed me. It felt like breathing underwater, I don’t even think you live in the same world as the rest of us. I texted you at 2 a.m. and you didn’t hesitate. Trapped between your body and the wall, your lips on my neck and I was already in heaven. I never thought you loved me back, until you showed up on my doorstep, whiskey on your breath and tears in your eyes. After that I never doubted you, because I knew then that your love was more than words. 

Venus in Pisces: With you it’s all about the moment, and moments with you are plush and whimsical. Like sitting on a cloud. You are still the only person to ever write me a poem. And when you asked me if I liked it, how you let me see your vulnerable side even though the look in your eyes was sheer terror, you were brave. I was at loss for words so I just kissed you deeply. You see the beauty in the little things, like asking me about what I dreamt last night or giving me cupid earrings so they could whisper sweet nothings in my ear when you’re not around. Your love is poetic, you actually think of me and what makes me happy. Whenever you see something that reminds you of me you always let me know. I can’t help but think how lucky I am to be so cherished.

“That line [’I wish I knew how to quit you.’] has moved, it has been mocked, it has been everything in between, but I remember coming out of that scene, off that ridge of the hill, and seeing a number of the crew, some of whom didn’t even know what the movie was about, crying. When I first read that line, I was like, ‘What is that?’ Now I realize that anybody who has loved knows what that feels like. The interesting part of casting us at such a young age was that we didn’t completely understand what we were involved in, and that’s the beauty of the movie as well.” —Jake Gyllenhaal

“You said, he loves you as much as you love him. Then, why the both of you are not still together?” he asked.

“We both love each other. Yes, yes. And I’m not really sure why we’re not still together.” she answered very carefully as if the words she said hurt her heart like knives cutting through her veins. “Some may say it’s because of our priorities in life. But some may say that it’s not yet the perfect time. But who the hell really knows? Is it me? Is it him? I don’t know. I don’t even understand. They say that opposites do attract each other, while same signs do otherwise. We’re like walking on parallel lines with an infinite spaces in between, that even if we run faster, we will never bump on each other at the finish line. No matter how hard we try.”

—  ma.c.a // And sometimes, the world seems to be against us
Book Reviews by my Dad

For Father’s Day, I asked my dad to write some reviews for books we’ve both read and he came through so beautifully everyone needs to read these


The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien:

Epic. It is not cool not to like The Lord of the Rings.


A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin:

As epic as The Lord of the Rings. It is not cool not to like Game of Thrones.


The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling: 

My daughters grew up with Harry, Ron and Hermione…

…But, of all the other characters in the book, Arthur Weasley is the man…and, definitely, the Dad.

What was Harry thinking that he didn’t name any of his kids after him?


The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer:

Creative! … and fun. Cinderella’s cinder is grease and Rapunzel’s tower is a satellite. Makes perfect sense.


The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater:

What is there not to love about the Raven Boys and the idea of ley lines being a bridge between spiritualism and magic and science? Also, I like the way things are described in there:

“The voice was careful, masculine and local; the vowels had all the edges sanded off…..”

“…there was something pregnant about the night…”

Maggie Stiefvater is the fairest of them all.


The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer:

While I was reading it, it seemed ok.

It is like cheap whisky… you wake up promising to never do that again.

Only Told The Moon
Camila Cabello
Only Told The Moon

Stay back, stay long, and you move on.
I stress, come close, move on, please don’t.

Hello how are you? How you been?
Lately I wonder how it feels to steal your kiss
Nothing much, just fine, I’m doing well
And you can read between the lines, but god, I fell.

I only told the moon, tonight up on the roof
I told her that I’m scared that all my thoughts, they look like you
I only told the moon, about the way you move
I asked her to please tell me if you tell things to her too.

Silence. Too loud. Say it, not now.

So how are you? How you been?
Lately I wonder how it feels to taste your lips
Nothing much, just fine, I’m doing well
And you can read between the lines, but God, I fell.

I only told the moon, tonight up on the roof
I told her that I’m scared that all my thoughts, they look like you
I only told the moon, about the way you move
I asked her to please tell me if you tell things to her too.

That I give it all to you, I give it all to you, I give it all to you
I only told the moon.

Aahhh and another loves song will play on the radio, you know.
Aahhh and I’ll wait for the moon to lean in close and say…

That he only told the moon, tonight up on the roof
He told me that he’s scared that all his thoughts they look like you
I only told the moon, about the way you move
I asked her to please tell me if you tell this to her too
That I give it all to you, I give it all to you, I give it all to you
He only told the moon.

He only told the moon.

There are some things I say to you with a very heavy heart. But they must be said out loud. They must be because I must maintain that line that dwindles ever so often between wishful thinking and a polar opposite reality.
—  I’m sorry if some times I don’t make sense // .a.c.

I am not an open book.

The hardness of my cover and the complexity of my contents were not designed for weak fingertips and feeble minds. I have been opened once or twice. My spine stroked by flimsy hands, held with a broken focus, my pages slightly skimmed through, only to be put down mid-sentence. I have yet be placed in the gentle care of a reader that doesn’t mind that my chapters are often cut short, my edges sharp and my pages loose; one with the intent to finish.

As I accept my place on the shelf, I no longer ache to be taken down, opened up and validated by the comfort of fleeting eyes. I have begun to find solace in my own story, comfort in between the lines and a curious fascination for the pages still blank. I no longer worry if my analogies are beautiful enough for Pulitzer Prizes and Nobel awards.

I only pray that one day, my sentences will leave traces of ink on the heart strong enough to comprehend them and I am no longer taken out of context.

I have always had an affinity for words but I did not know true love until I read my own.

Dirty, Pretty Things

Hey guys! I hope that everyone is having a supremely good day today! I’m sorta shy to post this because I’ve never written a sexy-time before, but I gave it a go lol. Basically, Tom and the reader go to the library and Tom gets a little frustrated by the book the reader picks out for him, and then, sexy-time ensues. I hope you like it!

Dirty, Pretty Things

He had lost her within the sea of words that had engulfed them both.

When Tom had first entered the grand library, the sight of so many shelves completely drenched in knowledge blew his eyes wide open. She, on the other hand, had immersed herself, diving in and out of shelves quickly, and coming out with towering stacks of novels. Tom watched, hands in his pockets, as she piled the literature as high as it could go without falling.

Grabbing her readings, he moved them to a secluded corner, where he sat down on the floor to wait for her to come back to him.

As she fluttered about, rushing in between sections and up and down staircases, her skin gave off a soft sheen of champagne that he knew came from her ridiculously expensive highlighter. The heels of her boots tapped anxiously across the floor. Sounding as though they were afraid they’d only be granted a set amount of time to wander through the library. The straps of the dress his girlfriend wore began to slip off her shoulders and she failed to fix them to their proper place again. When she bent down, Tom noticed that her position revealed a more than generous amount of her legs. He bit his lip and tried to ignore how alluringly endearing she looked.

Tom loved to watch her like this. She looked incredibly at home nestled inside the library’s massive selection of books. She wasn’t worried about other people, or how they could be perceiving her. Instead, her only focus was on choosing the best and most interesting novel to read.

After about forty minutes, she finally came back to him, carrying four more books in her hands.

“I picked some out for you to read as well,” she said, nestling decisively underneath his arm.

Due to the spot Tom had secured, she was sat directly next to the left corner of the wall with Tom cuddled into her right side. Tom beamed at her and pressed an open mouthed kiss to her lips. “What did you get for me darling?”

“Well, firstly, I grabbed you the first Harry Potter book because I think that it’s absolute insanity that you haven’t read it yet. Then, I grabbed Horns and The Shining, in case your in the mood for horror, but, if all else fails, maybe you could try Hidden Bodies or Dirty, Pretty Things?” She began to ramble on about why she had selected each novel and then stopped short. “Oh, shit, I should go back and bring you Fight Club, I really think that-.” Tom quickly wrapped an arm around her middle, securing her back down on the floor.

“No, no, I’m excited to read Dirty, Pretty Things. That’s the poetry book you’ve been off about with Kaylee, right? I want to read that one.” Tom watched her pull the thin, pink book out of the stack to hand to him.

She looked shy handing it over to him. As soon as his hands slid over the front cover, she quickly interjected, “you may not like it, but the words are just lovely and they make me,” she stopped short and shuddered.

Tom quirked a brow, “oh yeah? Better get started then.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rustled her hair.

Tom watched as she leaned forward and bit her lip, trying to decide what she wanted to read first. Eventually, she settled on A Tale For the Time Being and curled up against his chest.

Tom’s eyes skimmed over poem after poem, and he began to understand why she spoke so much about it, just not directly to him. The book was written about love, and carnal attraction and she was forever timorous.

The poetry in Dirty, Pretty Things was beginning to get to him, especially when he thought about her reading it. Michael Faudet’s words were dulcet and enticing, and Tom imagined whispering them softly into her ear, as he slipped his hands up her skirt.

Tom’s mind briefly wandered to her getting off on the words within the book and had to stop for a few seconds to recompose himself. He glanced down at her. The words on the page of her book seemed to leap and dance off the page, mocking him for being of more interest to her than he was. Shaking his head, he tried not to look at the uncovered, sweet smelling, perfumed, skin of her chest. Going back to his own book, he attempted to allow the book’s poetry to command his full attention once again.

The first poem Tom encountered as he flipped the page nearly killed him. He stopped breathing and read over the words three more times before letting out a shaker gasp.

The only words on the page were, “Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.”

Tom looked from the poem to her, then again and again before he felt his jeans getting even tighter than they were before. This had to be a sign. Shit, they were in a library, surrounded by books, all alone in a dimly lit corner of the library. Not to mention, books and literature were her favorite things in the word. She had told him a while ago that the best compliment she’d ever received had been from slew of teachers who had all insisted that she had the best taste in books they’d seen in a long time. Michael Faudet’s words were taunting him.

“Baby,” he started, gently tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’m bored.”

She frowned, “do you not like the book because I can go and grab you another, or maybe-,” Tom cut her short by sliding a soft hand across her throats to sweep her hair off her shoulder.

“Let’s trade. You can read Dirty, Pretty Things out loud to me. I’m sleepy and I wanna listen to you read the poems.” Tom gently guided his book into her palms.

She flushed red and stuttered for a minute. “Tom, I can’t.

“Why not?” He countered.

“You’ve read it,” She muttered, looking away from him. “The words are libidinous.”

Tom brought her eyes back to his and licked his lips before he spoke. “I wanna hear you read them darling.” He moved to kiss the spot just below her lips. Tom dared lower and lower, tangling his hands in her hair as he went. When he reached her collarbones, she finally snapped.

Letting out an airy sigh, she gasped out, “fine Tom.”

He smirked and placed a final kill on the base of her throat and corrected his posture so that he was sitting with his arms protectively circling her frame.

She moved to flip to the next page when Tom interrupted her. “Do you mind reading from the beginning? I wanna hear it all in your voice.”

Narrowing her eyes, she flipped back to the first page and began to read. As she read through the first few poems, Tom’s hands began to totter.

First, he slipped them up and down her arms, feigning an effort to keep her warm. Then, he began to give her small kisses on the forehead, cheek, neck and hand. She looked at him, slightly confused as to why he’d ask her to read out loud if he wasn’t going to pay attention.

Nevertheless, she kept reading.

As she flipped the page, her breathing was cut short. Tom knew exactly which poem she’d stumbled across. “Sweetheart, do you want to play a game?” Tom asked her, his voice rough and low in her ear.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed cherry red as she managed to stutter out a few syllables.

“How about I tell you the rules first?” He paused briefly, and then began to talk. “The book you’ve chosen for me has actually proven itself to be quite the naughty thing and I think that you gave it to me on purpose. Since you like to play so many little games instead of just telling me directly what you want, I think that maybe I’ll give games a go too.” Tom stopped to look at her again. Her pupils had consumed the typical color of her eyes and her hands were slightly shaking. Taking them within his own, he kissed the backs of both of her hands.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d very much like to reenact that poem. You are the book that I’ve been dying to read.”

Her eyes shut and she bit her lip to contain the moan threatening to slip past.

“Here’s the catch though, I still want you to read to me. If you stop reading out loud, I’ll stop what I’m doing and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Tom peppered her neck with open mouthed kisses.

She nodded her head, eyes still shut tight.

“No, darling, I need verbal consent, just to be sure.” Tom continued his assault on her neck.

Her eyes finally snapped open and she rolled her head around to look directly into Tom’s eyes. “Please.” She whispered.

With that, Tom smirked and lifted the hem of her dress and slipped his hand further up her thighs.

Her voice shook, “the kind of love letter I write are the ones you read in bed, stretched out beneath the sheets with one hand between your legs.”

Tom pressed his mouth to her and she convulsed against his lips, gasping out the words to the next line.


What experience changed your perspective on life?

I was about 11 years old and I got into a horrible fight at school with my brother who was barely more than a year older than me so we were close growing up, but with a lot of tension. We had a lot of mutual friends and I don’t remember the specifics, but I felt as if he had embarrassed me in front of everyone or diminished me into being some sort of child even though our age difference was small. After school I went to my Grandmother’s as I usually did after school at that time, while my brother went to wrestling practice.


My Grandmother had a thick French accent and lived in an enormous, overgrown looking house that was filled from head to toe with books and I LOVED it. My brother was more sporty than me and that got a lot of attention and appreciation from our father who I was more alienated from for being bookish. My Grandmother was my only kindred spirit in the family and for much of my childhood really.


Anyways I kind of tried to conceal my anger from my Grandmother at first and I was helping her clean (which I enjoyed doing because we would listen to great jazz and blues artists which she loved and she would tell me about the lives of jazz musicians and such, it was all very cool to me). At one point though she said something or other about my brother and I just couldn’t help it, I hadn’t cried in front of my grandmother in years but I was just so angry and frustrated that it all came out. I was so embarrassed, but I just told her everything right then about how overshadowed I felt by him, how my father didn’t love me the way he loved him, feelings I was super ashamed of even having.


She kind of let my emotions hang in the air and just quietly comforted me by rubbing my back, but then she told me to come upstairs with her to her bedroom. Her bedroom had a lot of character like a lot of the house and it was filled with photos and books and albums she loved and especially had a lot of Jewish art on the walls.


She fumbled around in her desk pulling out random papers and odds and ends until she pulled out a dusty photo album that I had never seen before which was in itself remarkable because my grandmother loved to show me photos of when she first came to America and my mother and uncles as children, all that.
We sat down on the bed and she opened it and there were all of these black and white photos of my great-grandparents when they were alive. It started with very small children and my great-grandparents looking very finely dressed and happy and page by page there was just this horrible transformation of the children getting older and my great grandparents looking like they had aged 20 years when their children had only aged a few years. I had some understanding of what was going on of course, I knew about WW2, the holocaust etc. Which is to say, I knew an age appropriate version of all that, but I was beginning to get old enough that something darker was lurking, a more visceral reality to what I knew factually to be true.


We got to the exact center of the album with my Grandmother saying very little except people’s names, when the photos were taken, etc. Then right there, over a photo, pressed between the pages, was a patch, a patch of a yellow star with the word “Juif” on it. And my grandmother, pressed the star to her chest, as if holding it to where it would have been sewn an age ago and gave me a small nod and said in her soft-breazy accent “This one was not mine, I don’t think, but Claudette’s” and she pointed down at the picture that the star had been covering.


It was of two teenage girls, young, perhaps 13 or 14, smiling in front of some sort of railing overlooking a river, stars visible in their clothing. One, I immediately recognized to be my grandmother, who… while a wonderful human being had sort of a crooked smile and a big nose that was altogether too interesting looking to be mainstream beautiful. The girl next to her in the photo looked in many ways like her, but definitely had more classic good looks and a certain radiance that really came off the page.


“This is her. Claudette, my sister. We were very close in age, closer even than you and your brother.” she kept punctuating her sentences with a sort of bitter, humorless laugh and would pause, look away and then look back at the photo.
“She was my best friend, but I was very jealous of her, very. She was beautiful, funny. It hurt to even be jealous of her, she was so likable.” She sighed and I caught sight of the numbers tattooed on her arm, my earliest memory was and is of my grandmother giving me my first hair cut in front of the mirror and her guest room and my eyes catching those numbers in the reflection as if for the first time and the sudden curiosity they inspired. I felt a morbid echo of that curiosity then.


Then she said to me “I never would have thought then. That I would have been the lucky one. Your granmere has gotten old. Claudette will be 15 forever.” and her voice broke on that last word, not quite finishing it.
“Try not to fight with your brother Ezra, or else, do not let the fight go on for too long. You’re young, but you’re smart enough to know that most of us are not young forever. Trust me, the older you get, the more desperately you will need those who knew you when you were young.”


And then just like that the moment was over, she replaced the star, shut the album and shut it all away. Then she went back to cleaning, as if her own heart hadn’t broken all those years ago, as if she hadn’t just blown my own fucking young mind.


My Grandmother died when I was 16, but wrote me a card for my high school graduation in advance knowing that she probably wasn’t going to make it. On the day I graduated I opened and read her advice, her hopes for me, all good stuff. It ended with her recalling that day and what it had meant for her and how she hoped I could find balance in life between being true to myself and not sacrificing happiness. The last line was “We all have a responsibility to remember the bad times, even when it hurts to admit that they happened; just as we have a responsibility to remember the good times, even when it hurts to admit that they’re gone. Congratulations on your graduation, I love you with all of my heart.”


I bawled then, I’m tearing up now just thinking about it. Never has another human being had more of an impact on another than my grandmother had on me.

2

“That line has moved, it has been mocked, it has been everything in between, but I remember coming out of that scene, off that ridge of the hill, and seeing a number of the crew, some of whom didn’t even know what the movie was about, crying. When I first read that line, I was like, “What is that?” Now I realize that anybody who has loved knows what that feels like. The interesting part of casting us at such a young age was that we didn’t completely understand what we were involved in, and that’s the beauty of the movie as well.” - Jake Gyllenhaal

2

Bomb A** Traits | PT 2

SO! Here’s the second part to my random traits package. There are 5 traits included in this .zip file (some have buffs but not all of them, didn’t want to overdo it). To use these traits in game, you simply need to unzip the folder and drag the files into your mods folder.

Deadass Savage: A deadass savage sim is always inspired. Other sims often consider their honestly “cool & bold”. They tend to say and do things that other sims wont. They tend to gain promotions in their careers as well as some skills such as logic, wellness, comedy, and charisma. 

IN GAME DESCRIPTION - Do you normally do things that no one else has the guts to do? Do other sims consider you to blatantly honest, funny and cool asf at the same time? Every sim wishes that they could be you because you my friend, are a deadass savage. Facts.

Deadbeat: A deadbeat sim tends to always have an excuse. Whether it be to take care of themselves, take care of others, be a good friend, find a job, actually do their work at their job and welllllll just about everything else. (Refer to in game description)

IN GAME DESCRIPTION - These type of sims always go around talking about how they want to improve themselves but never try. They have children even though they HATE children. They claim they want to get a job but never apply for one. They want to have a healthy relationship but their commitment issues get in the way. They always have an excuse for everything which simply makes them a deadbeat. It takes a long time for them to gain skills, get a promotion (IF they get a job) and even longer to commit to their children or partner. 

♢ IDGAF: These type of sims just never care much about, well, anything really. They don’t care about gaining skills, advancing in their careers, having friends, or even a relationship. Their friendships, romance, career and skills will gain twice as slowly due to them just not caring enough. 

IN GAME DESCRIPTION - You see the icon? Read between the lines. This trait is for Sims who couldn’t give two f**ks. Just like I don’t give AF about writing this description. I think you get the point. Buh-bye. 

♢ Roast Master:A roast master is a sim that loves to roast people. They don’t care if you’re a friend or not. If they feel the need to roast, well then, you’ll just get roasted. Their always focused and inspired to become better at roasting. They tend to increase certain skills quicker, such as, logic, comedy, charisma and mischief.

IN GAME DESCRIPTION - This is for sims that love to roast others. They don’t deserve it but you do it anyways. You can’t control it but you’re good at it. #WhenTheRoastGameTooStrong

♢ Thirsty: These type of sims tend to always be thirsty for some romance. They love any sort of romantic attention. And will do just about anything to get it. They are always flirty and tend to gain physical and charisma quickly than other.

IN GAME DESCRIPTION - You don’t care how you get it. Where you get it. Or who you get it from. You’re always ready to take a sip. The thirst is real. 

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***Old & Updated Links in the description. Updated pack icons are NOT the same as the original.*** 


Note: Tag me if you use the traits in game! DO NOT RE-UPLOAD or REDISTRIBUTE.  If you run into any issues, please feel free to message me as soon as possible so that I can fix it. Thanks and happy simming! 😊

WHY I LOVE YOU

Venus in Aries: I heard your laughter before I saw you. And then I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And after everyone had gone home we were still running around, or you were running I was just trying to keep up. You work hard, play hard and love even harder, but you like to try on a couple of sizes before you find the right fit. It’s the way you make me laugh at the most ludicrous things, the way you know exactly what you want and are not afraid to go and get it. You make me feel like anything is possible. Our love was like a tickle war turned makeout session, and I still remember the heat when our skin touched. There will never be anyone like you.

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You know, something that was sorta interesting to me is how healthy Rick openly dotes on Summer and Beth. He offers to cook them dinner and tries to keep the conflict away from them, which means that he doesn’t consider his feelings for them toxic.

So, he seems to only think his love for Morty is toxic, and I think we can all read between the lines on that.

Morning Surprise (Remus x Reader)

“Hi! I might’ve already sent this in and I’m terribly sorry if I’m repeating my self but could you do one with Remus where you stay the night in his dorm and when you wake up the boys find you and they are all like shook. :,) thank you! I love your writing by the way!!” this made me laugh out loud when I read it! hope you like it!

Saturday’s were usually spent with your boyfriend in the library or by the Black Lake, curled up with a book and content with each other’s company. Today was no ordinary Saturday, it was a Quidditch Saturday, which meant that you and Remus had to postpone your usual activities and go and support James since Gryffindor was playing against Ravenclaw.

“Hurry up, lovebirds!” Sirius exclaimed, a few steps ahead of Remus and you.

You’ve been dating Remus for a year now, and you both kept the PDA to a minimum, the marauders knew that and often teased you both, but little did they know that behind closed doors, Remus and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius, sending you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, we don’t take the dog out too often, we think he might get lost…” Remus whispered to you, and you laughed.

Soon you and the rest of the marauders were cheering James on, Gryffindor was winning by a landslide, and somehow Sirius had taken over as commentator half way through the match.

“Ms. Lillian Evans, if the handsome Chaser scores three consecutive goals, you have to go on date with him, it is the law. Dumbledore said so.” Sirius decreed into his enchanted wand, McGonagall stood from her seat and tried to pry the wand from his flailing arms.

“I’m so glad Sirius didn’t meddle with the two of us…” Remus uttered as you nodded in agreement. You witnessed as James scored three consecutive goals and how your roommate Lily was glaring at the boy, you could see that she was trying to fight off a growing smile on her face.

“Well bloody hell, Sirius does seem to have a future in matchmaking.” You said, pointing down at Lily, Remus shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

It was no surprise when Gryffindor won, due to that Sirius and James announced that there would be a celebratory party tonight, (they would’ve thrown a part either way).

“What are the chances of us sneaking out of the party without being noticed by those two?” you asked Remus as you reluctantly made your way to the party.

“Just wait until they both had enough Firewhiskey, then we can go to my dorm and relax, there’s this new muggle book my mother sent me, I think you’ll like it.”

“Sounds perfect.” You said pecking his lips as you both joined the party.

It didn’t take long for Sirius and James to finish off a bottle of Firewhiskey, you nudge Remus and he stifled a laugh as he saw how James was drunkenly orchestrating a conga line.

“And that’s our cue to leave, love.” He said, chuckling at his friend’s failed attempts.

He led you up the boy’s dormitories, everyone was having fun so they didn’t see the two of you leaving.

He opened the door to his room which he shared with the rest of the marauders, you were always in awe of the contrast between Remus’s side of the room and the rest of the boys.

“I know what you’re thinking and I agree, they’re pigs.”

“Trewlaney better watch out because you might steal her job, your seeing eye just read my mind.” You joked, he chuckled as he walked towards his drawer, pulling out a jumper and a pair of boxers, handing them to you.

“I don’t think you’ll want to go back to a room full of tipsy girls later tonight and the guys will probably pass out in the common room.” He said as he handed the clothes to you so you could change into something comfortable. You beamed at him and thanked him, and headed towards the bathroom to change. You came out feeling extremely cozy, Remus was much taller than you so you basically swam in his jumper, it came down to your thighs.

“Well that’s not fair.” Remus said as he saw you wearing his clothes. You arched an eyebrow, confused.

“Now every time I wear that jumper I’ll know I won’t look as good as you do right now.” He said grinning, a bubbly laugh left your lips as you ran towards him, tackling him down to the bed.

“You’re so cheesy.” You mumbled as you buried your face in his chest.

“But you love me.”

“That I do.”

You both spent the rest of the night reading the astronomy book that his mother had sent him. Astronomy was your favorite subject, Remus liked it as well, and he loved seeing the way your face would light up as you looked at the pictures of the stars and constellations, and read about them.

Neither one of you realized when you fell asleep or if the rest of the boys came back.

Hours later, you were both woken up by a scream.

“BLOODY HELL, REMUS HAS A GIRL IN BED WITH HIM.” Sirius screeched.

“I’m pretty sure that’s Y/N…” Peter said.

“Keep your voice down you gits, I wanna study them more in their natural habitat.” James whispered.

“I can’t believe he did it, I didn’t think he had it in him.” He continued.

“Our little boy is all grown up.” Sirius sniffled.

You were woken up by Sirius’s scream but decided it was better if you feigned sleep, hoping that they would go away soon. Remus began stirring next to you.

“No PDA my ass, guess his wolf side won last night, huh?”

“Sirius Orion Black, if you don’t stop it with the crude comments I’ll make sure that you never procreate.” Remus snarled, his eyes still closed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“My dear, dear, Remus, how do you possibly expect for us to remain calm when we found you two in such a compromised position?” Sirius quipped back, smirking.

“Oh shut up Pads, nothing happened, we just fell asleep.” You said, enunciating the word sleep.

“OH Y/N, I SURE HOPE HE TREATED YOU RIGHT!”

“SIRIUS, GET OFF HER.” Remus exclaimed when Sirius dramatically threw himself at you.

You were trying your hardest not to laugh because if you did they would continue and you were not going to encourage them, you could see Remus trying hard not to as well. Who knew that the rest of the marauders would make such a big deal about you spending the night in their room.

“Does that mean Y/N is our mummy now?”

“JAMES, FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT YOUR FATHER DURING THE SCHOOL TERM.”

After ten minutes of nonstop teasing, they finally left you and Remus alone as they went down for breakfast.

“They are way too chipper considering they probably have a raging hangover.”

“I’m pretty sure the opportunity of teasing us gave them the strength they needed.” Remus sighed.

“If I lock the door, they would just knock it down with Peter or something…how about we get dressed and head to the lake for a bit?” you asked him, sitting up.

“But I’m comfy…” Remus whined, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back onto his chest, burrowing his head on your hair.  

“Okay, okay! You win, but just until they come back, I don’t think I have any patience left for their teasing.”

“Agreed.” Remus sealed the deal with a kiss that left you breathless.

Luckily the boys found Filch on their way back and he interrogated them for a full hour about the loud noises that were coming from the Gryffindor common room the night before. You and Remus enjoyed a full hour of peace and quiet before they came barreling in, goofy grins on their faces when they saw you and Remus intertwine, sleeping peacefully.

“I guess the shock wears off the second time around.” Sirius mumbled, James nodded from besides him.

pitchfork.com
Depeche Mode’s Dave Gahan: “Richard Spencer Is a Cunt” | Pitchfork

Last month, outside the Conservative Political Action Conference, white nationalist and “alt-right” leader Richard Spencer jokingly called Depeche Mode “the official band of the alt-right.

Dave Gahan: “What’s dangerous about someone like Richard Spencer is, first of all, he’s a cunt—and he’s a very educated cunt, and that’s the scariest kind of all. I think over the years there’s been a number of times when things of ours have been misinterpreted—either our imagery, or something where people are not quite reading between the lines. I mean, has he ever listened to ‘Strangelove’ or 'People Are People’?”

“I saw the video of him getting punched [during protests at the inauguration of President Trump]; he deserved it.”


I didn’t think I could possibly love Dave Gahan more than I already did but apparently I was wrong.