pristinepastel said: Hey, i know you like the first mummy, but what about the mummy returns?
I HAVE RETURNED…after like a day.
but what the people want, the people get!
RIGHT SO THE MUMMY RETURNS!
aka the only sequel that is 1000% just as good as the first one. like holy shit.
ten years later and we meet our heroes again. rick and evie are happily married, going on adventures, and evie’s dream of becoming a respected scholar has come true and they’ve made a tiny human!
the only unrealistic part being that they only had one kid, i mean they are still all over each other ten years later and you’re telling me they only had ONE kid.
okay. sure jan.
but boy o’ boy is that one kid awesome!
alex o’connell. this kid is literally:
50% evie super-klutz-genius.
50% rick screams-at-things-that-are-illogical-to-scream-at.
50% uncle jonathan’s sheer dumb luck and wit.
10% i’m really bad at math.
you get the point. HE’S GREAT. also the actor passed on harry potter because, JUST LIKE ME, the mummy 1999 was his favorite movie and he just HAD to be in the sequel. alex is just such a smart-ass little shit. that much like his mother, accidentally brings about the apocalypse by opening something he shouldn’t have:
ARDETH BAY TIME LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. he has a much bigger role in this one. GOD BLESS.(because he was supposed to die in the first one, but test audiences loved him as much as we do, so they kept his fine ass around) he still looks prettier than everyone and is still so done with white people once again.
*after almost being killed on he bus* “this was my first bus ride.” *after realizing they’re gonna make him fly again* “why can’t you people ever keep your feet on the ground?”
he’s just such an awesome A+ friend goals, because while he probably needs to go be with other medjai to prepare for battle against anubis’ army (yikes), he stays with the fam to rescue alex. it wasn’t even much of a thought for him really, rick and evie just batted their eyelashes and he was like: *sighs* “these white people are always messing my shit up, but they are my white people.”
jonathan: still beautifully the same as ever. witty, clever, and would do anything for his family.
“be quiet alex! if there’s going to be any hysterics, they’ll come from me!”
“if you see anyone come running out screaming, it’s just me.”
when he boasts about being a good shot and ardeth is internally like “i’m gonna die.” THEN HE SAVES ARDETH. hell yeah.
rick: he’s still screaming at things. BUT IN DAD MODE. he’s the ultimate dad.
“you, lighten up. you, big trouble. you, get in the car.” *sweetly* “honey, what are you doing, these guys don’t use doors.” “knowing my brother-in-law, he probably deserves whatever you’re about to do to him, but this is my house and i have certain rules about snakes and dismemberment.”
evie: still a super-klutz nerd, but with C O N F I D E N C E. little baby librarian is now a honey badger of ASK ME IF I GIVE A FUCK! and also a re-incarnated princess
“no harm ever came from opening a chest.”
rick: “i swear that kid gets more and more like you every day.” evelyn: “you mean more attractive, sweet and devilishly charming?”
we meet izzy, another one of rick’s ex boyfriends, who is a much more reliable mode of transportation than previously mentioned murder buses.
imhotep: still emo. still wants to make out with his gf.
anck su namun/meela: hella good villain. she bomb af and 100% wants to take over the world. amazing. she actually has like a really cool role this time too!!! like so much screen time.
the rock…i mean the scorpion king, he’s another emo villain with goofy cgi rendering and like 4 million terrible made-for-TV spin off movies that you are lying if you haven’t watched at least one of them and felt that utter disappointment. but who cares the rock is pretty. and this was his first acting role and the reason we have him where he is today.
thank you mummy returns for giving the world actor rock johnson #blessed
THE ROMANCE AGAIN:
normal action movie sequel romance: same guy. different girl. repeat of first movie’s romance. hehehehhehehehhEHEHEHEHHEHH.
not here bitch.
rick and evie’s love has only grown stronger. they still bicker like old ladies at bingo night. the still look at each other like they hung the moon. they’re still disgusting jonathan because they CANNOT KEEP THEIR HANDS TO THEMSELVES. one kid my ass. they still support each other and protect each other like crazy. they love each other so much and it’s so healthy and pure and there is some good in this world mr. frodo.
the bottom line here is. what’s the point of watching the mummy 1999 if you aren’t going to watch the mummy returns immediately after?
I just have this headcanon that christophe and victor’s friendship is nothing but spending money and shenanigans like victor is already impulsive and out of control but chris is such a shameless ENABLER. Don’t tell me the reason victor has a hot pink $8 million cadillac convertible ISN’T because of Yuuri asking Victor to go pick out a car that was “reasonably priced and compact” and then Chris stepping in and being like ‘ew you don’t want the paparazzi taking pics of you in an ugly, soccer mom toyota corolla. No, get the one from the showroom thats a prized antique who cares if it’s millions of dollars IT’S FABULOUS YOU NEED TO BE FABULOUS.“ Victor pulls up in this ridiculous barbie car with Chris in the front seat with two pairs of ray bans on his head holding a 12-pack of wine coolers like "We made good decisions today” and yuuri storms out to scream at both of them.
Trump: I need to say something about Black History. Names! I NEED NAMES!
Aides: Harriet Tubman
Trump: That’s the woman on the $20? Yes. More!
Aides: Rosa Parks!
Trump: I need to balance it out. Two Black women, one Black man. We can’t use Martin Luther King again, he’s got a whole damn day.
Aides: Fredrick Douglass!
Trump: TRAFFIC! I heard that name a lot with Republicans!
[Graphic from New York Times - Headline: Trump: That Frederick Douglass “has done an amazing job.”
Yes, that Frederick Douglass, former slave, abolitionist and statesman who died in 1895.
Meeting with African-American supporters at the White House on Wednesday, the president let it be known that Mr. Douglass, an important figure in American history, had come to his attention.
“Frederick Douglass is an example of somebody who has done an amazing job and is being recognized more and more, I notice,” Mr. Trump said. “Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks and millions more black Americans who made America what it is today. A big impact.”
Hey guys! So you know I’m fairly new to the community, and I really want to make something special for Mark’s birthday.
Mark, in your interpretation, as a hero.
Because we know he is one, in different ways. To many people, he is a hero. He had made people laugh. He had made people smile again. He made days better. He helped people make friends. He helped in so many things.
And for his birthday, I want him to know how much of a hero he really is.
Today is June 17. As of this moment, he has 17 million subscribers, 17 million people he calls as his heroes. If you see that shirt sleeve with hearts? He calls you as a hero. He’s a hero too. He’s the leader of this wonderful community, and
I want to see all of your interpretations of him as a hero too.
Draw him in your own interpretation of his suit/costume. Write about the superhero Mark, or that Mark who saved you from his daily videos. Crop him or photoshop him as your favorite hero, Marvel or DC, or even other comics. Make gifs or animations. Quotes that he has said, pictures of him, so much can be done! Just show him as your hero.
And I want to see all of them, so tag it in #MarkIsAHero! It’d be awesome to show him for his birthday!
(If anyone is on-board with me, we could also do a “T minus 10 days” series of whatever-you-want for the birthday guy, where we countdown to his birthday ‘Blast off to space’ kind of style.)
(I know it looks long, but just read it okay?)
Today, I felt terrible. I felt like I wasn’t good enough. Like everyone who smiled at me was lying. lies, lies lies. Everywhere.
It was pretty hot out today, so instead of wearing a sweater, I wore 3 million bracelets to cover my self harm scars. Everybody. And I mean EVERYBODY I EVEN ran into made fun of them. Even my “friends.” My good friend Amanda:
“Haha what’s with all the bracelets?”
My friend Olivia:
“2012 called, they want their style back.”
My friend Nadyia:
“Why are you wearing all those bracelets ?”
I couldn’t tell you how many comments I got about my “2012 fashion”
It’s not my choice.
I HAVE to wear these.
All day I was tired. I was depressed again. I was yelled at by my “friends.” Yelled at by my teachers.
I got home and I was tired. I was achy and I wanted everything to just end.
I wanted the pain to stop.
Everyday this happens and I was tired of it.
But then, a notification.
“YuB uploaded a video: DON’T BEA MEAN! (Night in the woods playthrough.”
I had been waiting to watch some night in the woods.
So I watched it. I checked Dan and phil’s channel and watched some of their old videos. Next thing I new, another notification.
“StacyPlays uploaded a video: CAMOUFLAGE (Mystic Mesa)”
I watched that. By that time, about an hour had passed. A whole hour without thinking of hurting myself. I then finished watching Jackfilms’s hour long:
“Frame by frame review of the emoji movie trailer”
Of corse the video was a joke, so that was a whole ‘nother hour of laughing.
2 hours. 2 hours of not thinking about suicide. 2 hours of laughing.
Then, I watched a new game theory I’ve been meaning to watch.
Then, the “little nightmares” livestream from CrankGameplays.
Then, Markiplier TV bloopers
Then I re watched the “no more mama” musical from random encounters.
And, I didn’t feel depressed anymore. Basically, this is a PSA
YouTubers help depression
YouTube is a real job
And it’s an important one too.
YouTube saved me
From my wicked thoughts
A/N: This is based on the moment in ACOWAR when Nesta admits that she can’t take baths anymore because of Hybern. I wanted Cassian to help her out with her fear.
Nesta stared at the tub filled with an ankle deep of water. Her breath came out shaky, causing small waves to form over the surface. A towel wrapped around her skin, and the fabric irritatingly rubbed against her body. She knew there was no possibility of submerging herself in the water, two buckets were already filled beside it, but she wanted to try dipping her foot in. Just for a bit. Feyre had already contracted someone to install a shower, but it wasn’t going to be finished for another two weeks. Thus, Nesta continued her routine of using buckets.
Inside, Nesta knew she must look ridiculous, for she was staring at a seemingly empty bathtub. There was nothing in that water that would hurt her, not something that shallow at least. She would lift her leg and dip a toe, nothing more. That would be enough. All of her muscles seemed locked in place as her mind urged her leg to twitch towards the water. She could barely breathe the longer she stared, her thoughts circling around the image of Elain being shoved in those waters, not knowing whether her sister or a corpse would escape. Those moments when Nesta could hear her own heart thundering in her chest, even without Fae hearing. Then, Nesta’s thoughts raced to her own drowning. The tight grip of the Hybern soldiers’s hands on her body. The rage coursing through her as she pointed her finger. The flooding of her lungs—
“By the Cauldron! I am so sorry!”
Nesta whipped around faster than one could winnow to see Cassian standing in the doorway.
“What. The hell. Cassian.”
He was already retreating out the door, covering his eyes with his forearm. “I’m sorry Nesta. I thought—‘
“Did no one ever teach you to knock when there’s a closed door?”
“Closed, Cassian, the door was closed.” Her breathing came out incredibly ragged, and she practically shrieked, “Get out!”
She turned with every ounce of dignity she had left.
“What are those?”
Her voice came out very clipped. “What do you mean, what are those?”
His silence stretched on between them, daring her to turn around. She only allowed her head to graze over her shoulder before she saw he was not looking anywhere near her. Instead, his gaze locked on the buckets on the floor, and his eyes showed where his thoughts were going.
“Cassian. I said get out,” she snarled at him as she turned to face him fully.
“Nesta, are those—“
“They’re nothing,” she breathed, losing all courage from before, “Just leave.”
His head nodded at the order, still not looking at her as he left, lost in his own mind. When he closed the door, she walked over to check the lock and rested her back against the wall. Cassian’s interruption dragged more fight out of her than she thought it would, and she couldn’t motivate herself to even approach the tub let alone dip her toes. Her fight mellowed the longer she stood there, and she slid to the floor.
Too damn weak. She felt so inadequate that she couldn’t even stand. Everything seemed unnecessary beyond her inability to clean herself. Last time she washed was yesterday. She hadn’t done anything strenuous today, so she could wait. She could wait until tomorrow when she would have to wrestle with herself all over again to enter the bathroom and fill the buckets. When she drenched herself in their water, she would always hold her breath and move as quickly as possible. Her record was six bucketfuls, she didn’t think she could handle anything beyond that.
The water was surely cold by now, and as she stood to empty it, her legs shook. Plunging her hand into the tub for the drain, her eyes closed and she felt two silent tears slowly run down her face. The gurgling of the water was the only noise for a while until she heaved the buckets up to drain in the bath as well. Her towel somehow stayed snug against her body the whole time, and she hid the pails under the sink before leaving the room. Where she saw a hulking bat sitting across the hallway from her.
His lips moved as if to speak, but Nesta shot him a glare and practically ran to her room. She heard him follow her, but she just moved faster before slamming her door in his face.
As quickly as she could, she disrobed and dressed herself as he sighed on the other side.
“Nesta—“ he paused, as if wondering if she was going to let him continue—“I’m sorry about earlier. I was debriefing Rhys downstairs and was walking backwards into the door. I didn’t see it was closed. My apologies.”
She could hear him turning to walk away, but for whatever cauldron-damned reason, she opened her door.
“You weren’t there.”
His back strained at her words and his wings hitched slightly.
“Nesta, you know that ever since Hy—“
“Not there. I know there’s nothing you could have done. I don’t think you do, but that’s for another time.”
He was facing her now, and his jaw worked as if he were going to say something. She held up her hand. “Let me finish. You weren’t at the meeting with Graysen.” She took a deep breath, somehow this private admission a million times harder than the one that she made so long ago. “Your eyes were on those buckets, and your thoughts seemed to be working faster than your mind could handle. So I, ah, guess you should hear it from me before you draw your own conclusions. Taking a bath is pretty difficult after —“ she gestured pathetically with her arms—“everything. Feyre’s getting a, what do you call it? A shower installed. It’ll be another two weeks, so I use buckets instead of a bath. I wanted to see if I could dip my feet today, or at least my toes,” she sighed, “turns out I’m a little too pathetic for even that.”
She didn’t realize that she never once looked at him the whole time, but when she did, his face was completely stricken with devastation. Her fingers scratched behind her ear, and she attempted to walk past him.
“Nesta.” His hand was on her arm and his gaze was intense. “Nothing about your situation is pathetic. We share at lot of sexual jokes, but I’m serious when I say I have a shower at my house that you can use in the mean time. If you need to. Want to.”
She’d never admit how grateful she was at his offer, but the look in his eyes showed that maybe he could feel her relief. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
Their gazes locked for a moment longer, before she turned to leave and his hand left her arm.
At Ritas that evening, the whole inner circle enjoyed a night out including Elain and Nesta. All together, they shared a few drinks though Nesta drank less than everyone and sat completely erect on a barstool. Their group swayed along to whatever tempo they pleased while Nesta stared amazed that even Amren joined in their revelry. Looking at them all, she knew she could join them, in fact, they’d already encouraged her multiple times. Cassian never directly asked her once, but his eyes skirted over to hers almost too often. As if now that she told him her fear, she would shatter if left to her own devices.
Nesta slowly nursed her water at his excessiveness until the prick behind her shoved into her the bar.
“Excuse—“ Nesta started as she turned around.
Her voice was drowned out by the fighting males behind her. And the full mug of ale that completely drenched her outfit. There was no time to become angry at her sodden state. The fighting pair continued as though nothing happened, and Nesta just stared at herself mouth agape.
“Hey, Hey, Hey, HEY.”
Nesta looked up at that.
Cassian stood with his arms erect, breaking up the fight. His words were hushed between the two swaying drunks. Whatever he said calmed them, and his main tactic seemed to be forcing them to break eye contact by repeatedly claiming “look at me”. Nesta heard him say it so much that she didn’t realize he was saying it to her until she looked up.
His eyes were inches from her face and stared at her with concern. “There you are.” He gave her a small smile. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. I wasn’t in that fight,” she hummed, “Can you get out of my face?”
He moved as if he just now realized their proximity and skirted his gaze down her dress. With his raised eyebrows, she couldn’t help but look too. “Nesta, I’d always thought I’d see you wet, but these were not quite the circumstances I was imagining.”
Nesta’s jaw dropped for a second time that evening. “Is there a real reason you came over here? Or did you just want to make some poorly timed innuendos and have to disrupt that fight to do it?”
“If you must know—” he leaned in close again—“your damp state seemed like you were going to need to wash.”
Nesta froze. She had not thought about that part of her evening yet.
“And I thought maybe you’d…want to come to my place.” The last words came so fast that she almost thought she misheard him. Almost. Which was why her response felt like too much.
“Fine. But you’re not allowed any more innuendos.”
He put his hands up in defense but wore a grin of satisfaction before leading the way out.
Not a word was spoken between them as they winded through the streets of Velaris. Nesta’s anxiety grew the longer they walked. From an outsider perspective, their situation would look promiscuous as he took her home, but there was nothing sexual about their silence. They weaved their way through town, down alleys, and Nesta could’ve sworn they‘d cross the Sidra twice. The peace shared between them seemed so delicate that Nesta had no desire to break it, especially since Cassian was offering so much to let her use his shower. A slight breeze passed, and Nesta’s dress, clinging to her body now that it was soaked, caused her to shiver.
She could feel Cassian look at her out of the corner of his eye and almost snapped. Tear him apart for taking them in a seemingly pointless journey through Velaris when there had to be a better route. Her mouth opened slightly to voice—
“Here we are,” Cassian gestured to a single brick townhouse, identical to all the others on the street. To Nesta’s surprise, every window had a lush garden growing in boxes underneath them. Cassian walked up the stairs, and Nesta stared at his back without really seeing it.
“Do all Illyrians in this city live in townhouses?” Nesta inquired.
Cassian jangled his keys, and Nesta began to ascend the stairs after him. “At least we’re not compensating for anything—” he turned to wink at her—“But considering there’s only three of us, yes we all do.”
Nesta scoffed at that and stepped aside as Cassian opened the door. As though he forgot she was there, he stumbled into his home without any bravado, not even turning on a light, and lightly made his away upstairs.
“Nesta, there’s definitely no water out there. If you would like to enjoy the particulars of indoor plumbing, you’ll need to follow me to the bedroom,” he called as he turned towards her.
“We agreed on no innuendos.”
“And there has yet to be one. The only bathroom with a shower here is upstairs—“ he turned back around—“So my offer still stands, but you’ll need to enter the room where I sleep.”
Nesta padded up after him.
His bathroom was huge. Everything in it was built to accommodate wings, making it all three times larger than necessary. What she assumed was his shower had three spigots each with two handles underneath. Cassian left her there unceremoniously, and she’d already stripped herself bare. Though she claimed she would be fine, there were too many levers and the water shot down in a pounding waves so hard that Nesta immediately turned it off, scared of its power. She cracked the door open.
“Cassian,” she practically whispered as if he’d be right inside his bedroom. No response.
“Cassian.” Much louder.
Footsteps sounded from downstairs, and she waited for his approach. She felt like an uncivilized idiot who couldn’t even learn how to use a freaking shower.
Someone tapped lightly on the door. “Can I come in, Nesta?” he sounded incredibly tired on the other side. She let him in.
“I don’t know how to work the shower,” she stated, “I mean I don’t know how to make the water more tolerable.”
He just stared at her. “Is the rain okay?”
“You’ve been out in the rain since the cauldron. Is the rain okay?”
She thought back to memories of such gloomy weather and nodded. With those directions, he turned some dials on the faucets and spun the handles so water came out.
“That should feel like a light storm. If all three are too much, just use the one in the middle. The knobs underneath control the water temperature.”
A wave of exhaustion passed through her so strong that she had nothing to remind him that she knew how to turn it on. She left it at, “Thank you.”
As he left, he called, “When you’re done, just come get me to bring you home. I’ll be downstairs.”
She nodded before he turned and walked away. The bathroom that once seemed huge, now appeared tiny. Nothing in that room mattered except for the dripping water. Nesta stared at it a little, astonished that Cassian had been so generous throughout this whole situation. After so many years in that hovel, she was trained not to waste water, no matter how much she wished she could just stare at it and be clean. The towel dropped to the floor as she caught a waft of her beer-ladder self. Tentatively, she raised her arm and let the water cascade down. She could stop herself whenever she felt, but she chose to step over the tiny ledge on the floor anyway.
The sensation of all that water hitting her at once was too much. The warmth of it enveloping her to a point of choking that she blindly grasped for the faucet on her right, shutting the flow off immediately. On her other side, she fumbled more, but still managed to find it rather quickly. Above her, water came at a calming, leisurely rate. She closed her eyes. It’s just rain. It’s just rain. It’s just rain.
Her breathing slowed, slightly.
She could do this.
She’d already stood there for longer than those buckets could ever drench her. That thought though, forced herself to exit the stream. Her toes remained wet. She couldn’t help but think of only a few hours ago when she’d restrained from even putting her foot in the water. A sharp laugh escaped her.
Lathering herself in soap and washing multiple times, Nesta could only stand in the water for maybe a minute at a time before believing the shower a rainstorm washed away. All in all, she stayed there for maybe seven minutes. A short wash for anyone else, but the longest Nesta had had in months. Though they’d won the war, this felt like Nesta’s largest victory. Cassian’s towel felt like velvet as she wrapped herself in it, wondering if she just thought that way because of the significance of her evening.
Outside, folded neatly on the bed, were a small stack of clothes meant for her. She quietly wandered downstairs to find Cassian. As she passed through his living room, she thought maybe he was in the kitchen only to find it empty. Rather, after some insistent searching, she found him curled on the couch, his wings forming a cocoon in place of blanket, making it appear as though he never meant to fall asleep.
His face seemed peaceful, more so than she had maybe ever seen it. After everything he had done for her tonight, he deserved some rest. She found a blanket and draped him in it before realizing that with his hulking form, there was really no place for her to sleep down here. Scrambling back up the stairs was her only option. First, she opened the door across the hall from his room, hoping to find a guest suite, but it was an office filled with maps and strategies. Which meant her only option was his bed. It felt like a personal intrusion, but the more exhausted part of her mind reminded her she’d already used his shower, so why not surrender to the comforts of his sheets.
Immediately, his scent invaded her nose the tighter she tucked herself in, but she found it intoxicating. A depressant stronger than any alcohol consumed that evening. She pulled the sheets tightly, almost feeling like Cassian was there with her. After almost no time at all, she fell asleep, her dreams filled with not a single drop of water.
In the morning, Cassian woke her up by poking her shoulder. They’d shared a small smile before he walked her home, and again neither of them said anything until they reached Rhys’s home where Nesta thanked him. Then, kissed him on the cheek, an action that surprised them both.
No matter how much shock there was though, Cassian welcomed her to his home for showers every day before Feyre got one installed. And thankfully never commented when she occasionally stopped in after it was.
Lana Del Rey Interviewed By Paris Match, May 17, 2017.
Lana Del Rey lounges on the divan.
She hasn’t left her false eyelashes, but she has gotten rid of her sadness. After two years of absence, the diva of “sad pop” comes back with “Lust for Life” her fifth album which comes out July 21st and “Love” her single, which has already passed 50 million views on YouTube. Same hypnotic voice, same poetic universe for a woman who now has a certain taste for happiness. Since her debut in 2012, on the internet, with Born to Die which made her one of the biggest stars in music, Lana tells us in mind-blowing songs and beautiful music videos of her fragile life as a young girl haunted by death and failure. Today, she says that she has overcome these demons and her toxic relationships. Single, maybe, but a little more light-hearted.
For her, it’s already history. At 17 years old, Elizabeth Woolridge Grant wrote her own songs and made her own music videos: “I took a lot of photos. Then I started to record myself, to use my image.” After seven hellish years of singing in Brooklyn bars, her music video “Video Games,” posted in 2011 and has since been viewed 155 million times, which thrusted the young American into an unforeseen notoriety. She evolved into Lana Del Rey, Lolita 2.0, fan of the sixties who over the course of her songs tells a sometimes indecent and provocative story but always sensual. “I am connected to the future and the past at the same time… That’s why I have few friends…” Today, she sings “I’m young and in love”. But confides that she has found happiness… since she is no longer dating. “I’ve never been lucky in choosing boyfriends”.
She always loved putting on a show: “As a child, I loved making my life a work of art.” “My passion for beautiful films might explain my aesthetic,” says the woman who would have loved living in the Flower Power of the hippy years. “Kids. Friends, all that’s a bonus. My dream is simply to be happy.”
From our colleague in Los Angeles Karelle Fitoussi.
Paris Match: We knew you as somber and melancholic, singing your stories about tormented love. You’ve come back with two songs that exude a lack of worry. What happened?
Lana Del Rey: I haven’t been dating for a year and a half. Apparently, that has done me a lot of good. [She laughs] I learned how to say no and to listen to the little voice in my head that tells me to do one thing or another.
Paris Match: You have “Trust no one” tattooed on your hand… Have you often been betrayed?
Lana Del Rey: Yes. I’ve never been good at choosing friends. But now it’s better, I know how to go about it. I’ve learned one thing, and that’s that people show you really quickly who they really are. You have to listen to them, and pay attention to the signs. In the past, I’ve had lovers who’ve told me strange things, things I should have found unacceptable, but I closed my eyes. That doesn’t happen to me anymore. At the smallest indication of something strange, I get out. A love story that doesn’t do you any good is toxic. I finally understand that.
Paris Match: Are you not afraid that your newfound happiness will ruin your inspiration?
Lana Del Rey: No. When I was writing Born to Die, I was living in London, and I met a lot of new people, I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I was full of hope. I saw myself evolving into this type of avant-garde artist and this excitement made creating simple and easy. When the critics starting being really harsh, when things started becoming more violent, that’s when that magic left me. So happiness is obviously a good thing. I’m not afraid.
Paris Match: The New York Times said that you were a “nightmarish reflection of cynicism and of American fakeness.”
Lana Del Rey: An interesting start to someone’s career, isn’t it? [She laughs] It was horrible, completely horrible. I really must have loved music to have continued after that. But I should’ve stopped. Thankfully, things have changed. I won’t ever change myself to make myself more popular or to make someone else happy.
Paris Match: People have really shamed you for your heavily constructed public image. Some people even said that you’re a puppet.
Lana Del Rey: For a long time, I didn’t understand these reactions. Of course, I paid attention to my look. I had long styled hair, but I was too preoccupied with the music to understand why they talked about me like that. I was waiting for people to figure out for themselves that I was smart… I really had to question myself, to ask why people reacted to me like that. A question of energy, maybe. With a bit of space, even if I find [what they’re saying] ridiculous, I can understand.
Paris Match: If, with a wave of a magic wand, you could start all over, what would you change?
Lana Del Rey: Everything! I don’t even know where to start!
Paris Match: You wouldn’t be a singer?
Lana Del Rey: I love music, there were times where it saved me from my own demons, but it’s a double-edged sword. If I had the opportunity to take a simpler path, I would do it, without hesitation.
Paris Match: When you were younger, you dreamed of being a writer…
Lana Del Rey: Yes, but after having tried from a young age, I knew that I didn’t have the writer’s soul. I tried to write short stories, but they were terrible. So, I tried to do poetry… but it still wasn’t for me! That’s how I decided to write music. [She laughs]. The next step would have been Haikus!
Paris Match: Between two records and two tours, what do you do?
Lana Del Rey: I go to the beach. I swim once per week, I work out with my sister who shares my house with me. I take advantage of the sun and the wonderful Californian nature: with my girlfriends, we go to Big Sur or to Carmel… I never get over seeing the bright light from 7:30 in the morning. For a New Yorker like me, every time it’s still enchanting. Yes, I am that girl you can constantly talk about the time and the weather! But above all what I love the most in Los Angeles, is that there are so many musicians. Every band from London to New York have moved here! Artic Monkeys, The Last Shadow Puppets, Father John Misty… They’re all here in L.A.!
Paris Match: Have you finally found the community of artists you’ve always dreamed of being a part of?
Lana Del Rey: Yes. And when I go on tour, after four months on the road, they’re like me. They want to pick up where we left off. My friends who don’t do music, they’re lives have moved on.
Paris Match: How do you deal with living in the constant view of the paparazzi?
Lana Del Rey: I wrote a song called 13 beaches, which talks about how I do it, last summer, I had to go to 13 different beaches before I could find one without paparazzi, where I laid down with a book. But we can get used to anything. And then maybe it’s worth it. What I can’t get used to, is systematically finding my songs on the internet before they’re supposed to come out. It takes so much time to make a record… a year and a half! When leaving the studio, I always have to hope that they’re secure.
Paris Match: Why do you impose this cycle of every two years for an album?
Lana Del Rey: It’s the time needed for reflection and contemplation. My records are like love letters to myself.
Paris Match: And will you have kids?
Lana Del Rey: When I have kids… I’ll take them on the road with me. Muse’s or Chris Martin’s boys do it well! I have the feeling it’ll work out, whatever I decide to do. It’ll be a nice surprise. Yeah, I would love to have a family.
Is it on your agenda?
Lana Del Rey:
[She laughs]. It’ll happen one day. Without a doubt within the next five years. Kids. Friends, all that’s a bonus. My dream is simply to be happy. Which I am right now.
Hey people who use those handy apps to call for a ride, get an easy way to protest Trump and those who support him! Uber’s CEO has publically stated his support for Trump and is on his way to go work on his Business Advisory team. Lyft, on the other hand, donated one million dollars last night to the ACLU in protest of the immigration ban. Many of the drivers for these two companies are immigrants. I made the switch today.
Request from anon: Can you do a TomxF!Reader imagine where they’ve been together since they were young & they’re at the final HP Deathly Hallows part 2 premiere and she is also in HP,apart of trio, and while she does her speech with the the trio,Tom proposes to her? ❤
Ahhhhh!!! I love this idea! Thank you so much for requesting anon! *If my schedule has worked correct, it should be Friday atm*
This was it; in a few moments, you’d be sealing what had been the greatest adventure of your entire life; Harry Potter had brought you love, eternal friendship and so much happiness. You looked at yourself in the mirror, still feeling the same nerves you felt ten years ago when you were turning up to the Philosopher’s Stone premiere - now here at the Deathly Hallows Part 2 premiere, you quarrelled on how quickly time flied. You still recognised yourself yet you had matured - you had experienced so much and you were so lucky.
Practicing your mantra in an attempt to control your breathing, you took a breath for seven seconds, held it for five and exhaled for six. “Having fun?” You heard an all too familiar voice chime from behind you. You turn around, spotting Tom stood leaning against the doorway. “I’m so nervous.” You declare, walking over to him to give him a peck on the lips. “You look ravishing.” Tom comments looking you up and down with a smirk. You were wearing a navy full length dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. He was wearing a navy suit (which just so happened to be the same shade) and his hair was tousled just the way you like it. “So do you.” You replied in an oddly surprised tone. Tom hadn’t really bothered with the previous premieres, even turning up in jeans and a t-shirt to the last one. “You sound so surprised, love.” He chuckles, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I am, I didn’t think they’d make you look this sexy. Now I have to compete with all the other girls.” You chime, reaching up to peck his lips once again. “You’re not competing, Y/N, I’m already your boyfriend. Besides, you look amazing, should I be worried about any man trying to steal you away?” Tom asks with a grin on his face. You shake your head. “Of course not.”
janellemonaeThis post is called “THE FIRST” (inspired by Ms. Mary Jackson) The First all black cast to win best picture. The First time multiple African-American writers have received an Oscar in the same year. The First African American Muslim to win best supporting actor. The First Queer/LGBTQ film to win best picture. The First African American writer and director to win best picture. Made on a 1.5 million budget NOTHING can overshadow the HISTORY THAT WAS MADE LAST NIGHT. i beam with so much pride. I hope and pray anyone who ever felt like they didn’t belong or their voice didn’t matter woke up today feeling proud to be YOU. #MOONLIGHT#BLACKHISTORY
Notes: I’ve decided to address Keanu by his middle name, ‘Charles’, in this story. I don’t know, i was just more comfortable with it. Also there’s 1 POV change, and a few visuals.
It started with a package and a wrong address.
My old address actually.
Work was a mess. I would’ve lost my head if it wasn’t attached. Everyone rushed
around, the phones wouldn’t stop ringing, and the stacks of paper on my desk
were starting to resemble skyscrapers. So with a bit of sleep-deprivation and
trying to function on one too many espressos on top of it all, I was more than
likely to make a mistake.
It was a little after seven in the morning
when, with yet another caffeinated drink in hand and taking sips of it, I went
through my emails. But a sudden notification of something new in my inbox
caught my attention.
I set my mug on the desk and stared at the
computer when I read the sender’s address. I might’ve clicked on it a bit
faster than I’d like to admit.
18 years ago I remember my my mom being told over the phone that my brother would be spending 15 years in prison for gang related crimes and violence. He was barely a teenager. I was only 5 so I don’t remember much. But I remember my mom falling to the floor not being able to catch her breath. I remember seeing how much it broke her. I remember how much it eventually broke all of us. 18 years later and I’ve never seen her cry in the way she did, that night.
8 years ago I remember starting a new school, for the fourth time. Freshman year all the way until junior year I spent my lunches in the bathroom alone as I called my mom to keep me company, because I had no one else. I remember being an outcast, shy and nervous. I remember coming home crying after school every day praying for at least one friend. Hating myself for how “weird” I was. I call these years the lost years. I hated myself enough to ignore whatever I was. Even though, I was just me. I hated me.
4 years ago I remember it seemed like my entire life was crashing all at once. I came to realization with my sexuality, I fell in love with a girl who taught me so much about loving someone and how to be loved. Everything was perfect. Until we lost each other, leading to my first true heartbreak I ever had. Her religion kept us apart, and even out of each other’s life. The breakup was very sudden and heart aching. Just two weeks later my nephew had a seizure on his 15th birthday. No one knew the cause of it, it took doctors months to figure it out. He lost his ability to use his entire left side of his body, with severe bleeding in the brain. At 15, his life changed forever. A week later, my dad lands in the hospital for kidney failure. He couldn’t seem to shake the disease of alcoholism he’s been fighting since before I was even born. The doctor predicted a very short time frame to live. I remember how badly I cried over all three of these incidents, for almost a year straight. I remember praying to god to bring me someone to help cope, after losing my love, who was also my best friend. I remember being at work finding a quiet space to pray to god, as I cried, every day. I prayed so much for his help and strength. I thought I’d never get over it.
1 year ago I remember being in the most abusive relationship of my life. She would hit me in my sleep, forced sex on me as I refused, even in my sleep and refused to notice it as rape. She would threaten to kill me, call me fat. Cut me off from my friends and family. She would choke me until I cried, because that’s all she wanted to see. She wrecked my new vehicle I worked so hard for and put me thousands and thousands of dollars in debt. she played being the victim so well, that I had no one to be there for me. This was the very first time I ever not only thought, but also attempted suicide, and commonly self harmed myself.
I thought I’d never get over any of it.
It’s now 2017. It will be two years in June since my brothers been home, he’s married to his first love, with a one year old. He’s happy and he’s healthy and in love, my mom is married to a man who treats her in a way I’ve always hoped to see. My senior year of high school? It was beautiful. I not only met some amazing people, but I’ve grown to be more confident and love myself whether someone does or not. My nephew is now able to walk again and is currently gaining back his motor skills to speak again. My dad, he’s still alive and seems to be healthier than ever. Remember when I said I prayed for someone to be there for me? I soon after met my best friend Kathryn. Who has played a major role in my life and someone who I look up to everyday. She’s forever. And I finally built the courage to leave my abusive ex. It was terrifying, it was difficult but I did it. I learned to love myself again, it was a long and painful process but I did it. And I will continue to.
If I could tell my past self what I know now, it would be that things don’t last forever. And even the pain, sometimes it does stay but it’s something you learn to live with and soon enough appreciate, for reasons. Trauma happens, and sometimes more than once. But there’s so much comfort in knowing that a better day does exist. That no matter how bad things can be, there are better days. Hang in there, and take the moment to realize how far you’ve come. And appreciate the bad days for making the good ones so much more beautiful.
As bad as all of these are, as much as they all hurt and left marks upon me visible and not, it’s made me who I am today. I have a strong sense of self. I am proud of who I am and I love myself and understand who I am more than anyone else will and I don’t mind that. I enjoy my solitude and no longer cry or am scared when it occurs. And I’m aware of any unhealthy, toxic and abusive relations before they get close enough to me. What has happened made me strong, and has only made my heart ten million times bigger. And I want to spend the rest of my life helping and healing anyone I possibly can. Because I know I’m capable of doing so, and it is where I find the most happiness and comfort.. in another persons smile and forgiveness.
Can I just say, I feel like I'm the only one that's extremely irritated with the whole moving theories? Like it's great if they are but in all seriousness, there's a lot to disprove them moving, specially right now with everything going on(vaca). And moving is something serious, not some secret project that doesn't have to be acknowledge right away like moving would. Why the fuck would they be so hush hush over moving? There's no need to?? And dan said he's redecorating his room SOO... no move.
fair enough. idg why it’s the foundation for so much discourse to be honest. if they move they move if they don’t they don’t. they inevitably will eventually bc they’ve said themselves that the house is too small for all of their things. so it’s rly more a matter of “when” and that seems v uninteresting to me overall to be frank
edit: since yesterday i’ve been thinking about the wholly inadequate answer i gave to this ask. not only was i a bit condescending in my response (and i want to say sorry about that bc i didn’t intend for my tone to be laced with so much judgment … of course it’s valid to be interested in if/when they’re moving and think about what it could mean for them,) but i also didn’t even really respond to the question that this anon posed and i feel really bad about it (which is also why i realized i should probs log off and not try to answer much else, since i was not in a great place to be thinking about this stuff.)
i do want to try and respond better tho to the question of why dnp would “be so hush hush over moving” (though i apologize in advance since u said you’re feeling irritated by the moving theories. this is a full on explanation of all the evidence that supports that theory.) the first point i want to make is that i actually don’t think they’re really trying to keep it hush hush. they’re obviously not outright stating that they’re moving, but dan especially has made several allusions to that notion over the last few months, many of which seem to have been forgotten in the overall discussion happening in the fandom right now. there were all of the needing storage mentions of course, and then the explicit statement in that january live show that “getting more storage” was definitely on the agenda for 2017. that could obviously be an innocuous statement, but with dan’s extensive knowledge of phandom discourse, the chance seems slim that he didn’t know that “getting storage” was being used as a way to talk about moving. then there were all of those subtle mentions about how long they’ve lived in the flat–i think on 2 or 3 separate occasions dan brought up that he couldn’t believe they’d been there for 5 years now. there was also the mention that he wants a new piano, and that that was something he would do this year. again while it’s possible he meant getting a new piano in this flat, he’s also stated in the past that the piano has been in that apartment since it was constructed and it just seems more feasible to accomplish that goal in a new place? and he also stated in january that after filming a lot for dapg, the early part of 2017 would be dedicated to “life things.” and, finally, with respect to yesterday’s live show, if they’re really trying to keep this some enormous secret dan would’ve tried a lot harder imo to hide the absence of the wirrow painting and the shit on his bedside table. or he would’ve waited until after the tuesday live show to get the stuff moved. or he would’ve canceled the tuesday live show altogether, especially bc he had a pretty solid excuse in being swamped with pre-travel preparation (he even made it seem like a possibility that he wouldn’t stream today during the joint live show last week.)
generally, i do think there are a number of reasons they would want to keep it mostly secret (the pressure from millions of people openly speculating about it, drawing conclusions from it, expressing their heartbreak bc of their emotional attachment to their current flat, etc. seems like an incomprehensible stress on top of the already stressful process of moving.) but i also think it’s important to note that they’re not really trying very hard to eliminate speculation on it either. in my opinion, they seem more like they’re attempting to lowkey prepare people without outright stating it so that no one who is seriously invested in them and their personal matters (aka the ardent live show watchers) can truly claim to be shocked or surprised when it happens. i mean, just look at their tags here on tumblr rn–if they were aiming to keep it “hush hush” i would say they miserably failed. if, however, their goal was to tell people subtly without confirming it outright,, then they clearly succeeded.
overall, since dnp have always been people who seem to make every decision and statement with so much premeditated thought, the easiest explanation of all of the past statements i’ve listed (and yesterday’s very pointed “you could say i’m relocating it … one could say” …. like rly if he’s aesthetically rearranging his current bedroom why that sketchy “one could say” addendum? it makes literally no sense in that context) is that they’re moving. i also don’t understand why it seems like such a ‘reach’ to people. they’ve lived in that flat so long. they’ve talked about needing more space for so long. it just seems very logical to me on every level that two people with their level of intertwined living and their financial capacity would take this relatively chiller time in their professional lives to do something about their struggle w too limited space, the annoying loudness of their street, their leaky gas pipes, their overbearing landlord, etc. etc. and “see if there’s a better way to live” (also dan’s words from earlier this year, in case ppl forgot)
in short, all of these things seem to make at least a reasonable case for them moving (and moving soon), and all of dan’s talk about aesthetics and new backgrounds for his videos, plus asking viewers to send him “palettes,” are easier explained, imo, as just a bit of (adorable) excitement around the upcoming process of redecorating in a new place. he’ll still need to think about how to arrange his furniture and what sort of decorative pieces to add to his background in this hypothetical new place, obvi, and he never explicitly said the words “i’m redecorating this bedroom that i currently inhabit.” moreover, that they’re moving and some of their stuff has already been packed away explains all of the sketchier elements of the show in a much cleaner way. for example, why was dan’s excuse for using his phone that the mouse to his “laptop” was dead? do they not have batteries? do they not have other computer mouses in their house? (they do. like at least 2 if not more.) why would not having a mouse, if that was even true, necessitate him sitting on his bed with his phone? why not use his laptop? or if that’s broken too, why not use phil’s laptop as he has done before? using a phone seems like the most inconvenient solution, and sitting on the bed with that phone seems doubly inconvenient. like, let’s say all of the other tech is packed away for their trip or dead or broken and his only option really was his phone … why did he choose to sit on his bed? something he hasn’t done in a live show in literal years? something that is so clearly uncomfortable? wouldn’t it have been easier to sit at his desk with his phone leaned against something? and then obvi why the weirdness with the painting? why the empty bedside table? also, why will phil be unavailable to do a live show until the 25th if the aus convention ends the 15th and, by dan’s own words, they’re coming home before going to florida?
i really think the simplest explanation to all of these things is that his room is being emptied and he didn’t want to show us, they’re in the process of moving some stuff out, maybe all of it, so that they’ll be totally relocated in the coming weeks. i think the notion that he was talking about rearranging his room makes much less sense bc then he would’ve just directly said “lol i’m rearranging my room right now and i need ideas and also that’s why the painting is gone.” there was literally no reason for him to be so weird and unclear about it. that they’ve been house-hunting and packing shit up would also account in large part for their apparent busy schedules and stress over the last few weeks. it would account for why dan has made so many allusions to being tired (rmmbr “i’m so tired … i don’t know why … actually i do know why”?? rmmbr him clarifying at one point that he was “physically” tired??? hmmm.)
obvi everything is speculation at the end of the day, i could be totally wrong on all of this and dan might just be a crazy person who says random misleading shit for kicks, but i guess overall i’m just a bit confused why the idea that they’re moving is being treated like some sort of outrageous tinhat theory when: 1. there have been so many signs pointing to it 2. it just makes sense for them at this stage of their lives, and 3. they’ve seemingly not tried super hard to hide it either.
She hasn’t left her false eyelashes, but she has gotten rid of her sadness. After two years of absence, the diva of ‘sad pop’ comes back with a ‘Rage de Vivre’ translation of ‘Lust for Life’ her fifth album which comes out July 21st and “Love” her single, which has already passed 50 million views on YouTube. Same hypnotic voice, same poetic universe for a woman who now has a certain taste for happiness. Since her debut in 2012, on the internet, with ‘Born to Die’ which made her one of the biggest stars in music, Lana tells us in mind-blowing songs and beautiful music videos of her fragile life as a young girl haunted by death and failure. Today, she says that she has overcome these demons and her toxic relationships. Single, maybe, but a little more light-hearted.
For her, it’s already history. At 17 years old, Elizabeth Woolridge Grant wrote her own songs and made her own music videos: ‘I took a lot of photos. Then I started to record myself, to use my image.’ After seven hellish years of singing in Brooklyn bars, her music video ‘Video Games,’ posted in 2011 and has since been viewed 155 million times, which thrusted in a few minutes, the young American into an unforeseen notoriety. She evolved into Lana Del Rey, Lolita 2.0, fan of the sixties who over the course of her songs tells a sometimes indecent and provocative story but always sensual. ‘I am connected to the future and the past at the same time… That’s why I have few friends…’ Today, she sings ‘I’m young and in love’. But confides that she has found happiness… since she is no longer dating. ‘I’ve never been lucky in choosing boyfriends’.
She always loved putting on a show: ‘As a child, I loved making my life a work of art. - My passion for beautiful films might explain my aesthetic’ says the woman who would have loved living in the Flower Power of the hippy years.