i-can't-put-it-down

Anne also seems to have had that elusive quality – “style” – which can never be quantified or permanently attached to specific body parts, hair color, or facial features, and which can transform a flat chest into a gracefully unencumbered torso and a birthmark into a beauty spot. “Style” cannot be defined. But in its presence, the rules of attraction are transformed. Style defies convention and calls the shots on what is considered beautiful. There are plenty of examples from our own time. Consider Audrey Hepburn, whose portrayal of Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s turned teenage girls’ gazes away from hourglass-shaped Sandra Dee and Annette Funicello, their bodies seemingly made for producing cute little babies, toward a new vision of cool, long-limbed, not-made-for-the-kitchen beauty that has remained a dominant ideal through the present day. Think of Barbra Streisand, who, like some modern-day Nefertiti, proudly offered her “Jewish” profile in dramatic, high-fashion poses that shouted “F*** you” to Gidget – and the rhinoplasts. Think Michelle Obama, whose prominent jaw would disqualify her immediately among those who insist that symmetry and a delicate chin are biologically inscribed requisites for female appeal. People with “style” remind us that the body is not just a piece of inert matter that can be measured and molded. And beauty, far from being cast in an unchanging, Platonic (or sociobiological) mold, is the human body moving through history, accepting or challenging the rules of its time and place. Sometimes, the prevailing rules of beauty are ripe for changing. Anne seems to have been among those who have changed the rules.
—  Susan Bordo, The Creation of Anne Boleyn
  • Jaune, walking around a Mistral market, examining fruit: Huh...not bad pri-
  • Jaune, cutting himself off with a dropped jaw, watching long red hair walk along the road behind the stall he's at: I....it can't be...
  • Jaune, puts down the fruit and charges down the market line, keeping pace with the red headed woman, finally cutting over onto the road she was walking along, panting out of breath: Is it...is it really you?
  • Red headed woman, who Jaune realizes is much older than who he hoped it was: Are you okay young man?
  • Jaune, standing up straight, his face saddened: S-sorry...I thought you were someone I know...
  • The older red headed woman's eyes light up, she grabs hold of Jaune's hand: You!! Oh she was certainly right, you're very noticeable! And handsome too, oh so handsome.
  • Jaune, awkwardly looks around: Ummm...who? Who was right?
  • Red headed woman, flustered and takes her hand back: Oh goodness, I'm so sorry! I should have introduced myself before. I'm Pyrrha's mother. She told me so much about you in her letters. It was the closest thing to physically seeing her fall in love for the first time.
  • Jaune, frozen in his place, forcing himself to speak, trying not to give away any sense of pain or sadness: O-oh...I'm glad to hear it.
  • The older woman looks at his oddly, then looks around: But why are you here in Mistral? Shouldn't you be in Vale helping with reconstruction?
  • Jaune, at a loss of words: Well, I...you see.
  • Red headed woman, with a smile: Ah, regardless, where's my daughter? Her letters have stopped recently, but now I know it's because she was on the road with you! I haven't seen her in so long, I'll cook you both something wonderful!
  • Jaune, unable to hold back anything, tears now streaming down his face, collapsing to the ground: Oh....oh no...
  • Coworker: How are you liking that book, by the way?
  • Me: [what I want to say] I don't know. It's kind of slow, but in a way that makes me keep wanting to read it and I'm just waiting for it to get to the point where I can't put it down. I kind of want to read other books, but this one is still pretty good, I just don't know. I probably won't finish it for a while.
  • Me: [what I actually say] it's good.

anonymous asked:

yay managers! my manager gave me a fidget spinner to use at the desk because my cube is very clicky and the spinner is super quiet! I literally can't put it down and guests have been saying how cool it is all day!

smartcookie727  asked:

Omg. If you need requests I am happy to ask. I always figured you were super busy. I absolutely love your language and the way you describe a scene. I can't put down anything of yours I've read. Ok. Praise done. Two ideas. Roll with what inspires you. Gajevy: breakfast in bed for pregnant Levy who has morning sickness/weird cravings and keeps sending the food Gajeel makes her back. OR Levy & Gajeel have to take care of Lily who has accidentally gotten drunk.

Your praise destroyed me. I needed a minute before writing. Hahahaha. Thank you so, so much!! I decided on the first one because it just seemed so cute???

;The Woes Of Pregnancy

Levy eased herself up off the cushion. No matter how she tried to settle, the nausea just wouldn’t let her relax. It was as though the very lining of her stomach had come unravelled and now sat in her throat, waiting to explode all over the clean bed sheets. She shivered at the thought.

‘All right,’ Gajeel’s voice was partially muted in the hallway. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, a tray laden with food balanced in one hand. ‘I brought every kind of sweet I could think of. I even asked Erza for help. If you don’t like these, it ain’t my fault. It’s hers.’

Levy let out a quiet laugh. Gajeel was doing his best to take care of her – actually, he was doing more than his best. He was exhausting her with his efforts. He treated her like glass with cracks along its base, just threatening to give way. Levy didn’t want to burden him. She wanted this – her pregnancy, the birth of their first child – to be a blessing. Not a curse. 

Gajeel set the tray down on the bed and sat beside it. ‘Does the smell do anything?’ he asked. ‘You feel sick? Woozy? Anything?’ 

Levy took a cautious breath. ‘No…not yet.’

Levy’s morning sickness had started late into her pregnancy. Late enough that her stomach was already swollen to an amount that said pregnant and not really loves her sweets. Though, both of those things were true. 

Placing a hand on her stomach, she opened her mouth and waited for the first bite of what would probably tip her over the edge. Gajeel slipped a finger-shaped cookie into her mouth. Coated in sugar, it spread a sweet taste through Levy’s body. Taking a bite out of it, she swallowed a small piece and waited for the inevitable to come. It didn’t.

Gajeel stared at her stomach, as though it might show signs of the outcome. Levy found herself laughing. His gaze snapped up to her own.

‘What’re you so happy about?’ he asked.

‘I just am,’ she said, tears trickling onto her cheeks. ‘I’m so happy, Gajeel.’

Gajeel reached over the tray to trail a hand across her cheek. ‘You’ve become a real crybaby, Levy,’ he said.

Levy pouted. ‘I can’t help it.’

‘Yeah, yeah. So how was it? Think you can eat another?’

‘Yeah!’ No. As soon as the word left her mouth a tide of nausea undulated through her body, crawling steadily, slowly, out of the pit of her stomach. She gripped the duvet in one fist, Gajeel’s arm with the other, and let out a heavy breath.

‘Don’t you dare!’ he warned. ‘If I have to change again today I’m revoking the rule on wearing clothes in the house.’

Levy couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled to the surface. ‘Stop making me laugh,’ she scolded. ‘I feel sick as it is.’

When the nausea seemed to pass, Levy drew in a long breath and held it, too afraid to let it out. 

‘You have to eat something,’ Gajeel muttered. ‘I’ll get Lily to bring something over. What do you want?’

Levy shook her head. ‘No more running around,’ she said.

‘Huh?’

‘Lay here with me,’ she said. ‘Please. Just for a little while.’

Gajeel let out a long sigh. ‘You gotta eat afterwards, got it?’

Levy nodded. ‘Promise!’

Gajeel moved the tray onto the bedside table and quickly crawled into bed beside her. Levy nuzzled against his side, feeling comforted by his presence.

‘It’s really weird that your cravings are all over the place,’ he said. ‘I mean, you crave something and enjoy it, and then the same thing makes you sick. It’s like your stomach’s playing tug of war with what you eat.’

Levy’s lips twitched up into a smile. ‘Yeah…it’s certainly strange.’ She glanced up at her husband and slid her arm across his chest. ‘Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow, when Wendy comes for a visit.’

As it turned out, Levy’s stomach was playing a game of tug of war with her cravings. Or, rather, the troublesome twins inside her womb were. 

_______________

Now accepting requests for: Boku no Hero Academia, Fairy Tail and Fullmetal Alchemist. | Prompts | Oneshots | Multi-Chapter | FF.net

anonymous asked:

I can't put a book down, even if its trashy garbage (unless it does something disgusting) and its such a problem I only read on weekends because if I start on a week day I read in school and on the bus and zone out and its a problem. Upside is I read fast at least?

Reading fast means you get to read more books!

Originally posted by avengersmemes

It’s good to have limits! I know better than to take a book to work for exactly that reason!

anonymous asked:

I feel like Bridget Essex's books get forgotten about. Lesbian romances in magical worlds and no one dies! She and her wife both write such amazing books and deserve recognition. When not in uni, I can read three of her books in a day because I just can't put them down!

Lady knights do sound fun!

“You are a Fox. You are always going to be nothing.” Andrew stubbed his cigarette out. “I hate you.”
“Nine percent of the time you don’t.”
“Nine percent of the time I don’t want to kill you. I always hate you.”
“Every time you say that I believe you a little less.”
“No one asked you.” With that, Andrew caught Neil’s face in his hands and leaned in.“
—  I just read that part and I kid you not I took a few seconds to scream into my pillow. What the hell is this book doing to me?!