irrelevant thing of the day


#bouncing together to the rhythm

A huge issue I have with the history side of Tumblr is this need to be right.  To know.

I won’t pretend that I’m an aspiring historian–I’m an aspiring art historian.  But as art history of recent years–or at least, the methods my mentors have focused on–has focused quite a bit on history and historical context, I feel like I can talk about it a bit.  

I feel like the “history” side of Tumblr approaches history in a way that is…  It would be okay if people weren’t pretending to be academic, but they are.  They so often are.  You see people quoting this book and that–and tbh, half of the things people quote on here are in the realm of popular history; understandably so, because it’s not like everyone can get their hands on academic articles/primary sources, but if you really wanna act like you’re a scholar…. you need solid sources–in this effort to back their arguments…  But at the end of the day, you’re not conducting yourself in an academic way when you act as if someone saying that your pet theory about X and Y’s marriage or whether or not this dude killed that one is wrong is like… an affront to your household.

Yes, we’ve seen famously passive aggressive tiffs among historians.  I’m not saying that’s going away anytime soon, but the current approach that I see to history is a bit different from what people were doing even 20 years ago.  Perhaps it’s because history and art history are experiencing something of a new influx of women and poc entering fields that were previously dominated by white men.  Perhaps it’s because we’re experiencing something of a cultural wave that is totally re-framing history and art history (for the better).

But while you can argue for your theory, it strikes me as the opposite of academic to act personally offended when someone comes at it.  There’s a certain distance you need with history and art history; that’s why historians can academically study people they might find repellent.  I specialize in art of the Italian Renaissance, for example (or I want to, I’m still a baby) with a feminist slant.  But I have the distance to acknowledge that most of the prominent artists of that time either didn’t care about the rights of women or were (in the case of Michelangelo, among others) misogynists. I can say I’m interested in female artists of that time and lament them being passed over–but I can acknowledge that to overemphasize their contributions to an artistic society that in some ways rejected them, is to deny the reality of history.

For that matter, there seems to be this National Treasure-esque desire to uncover secret histories, or undiscovered angles.  This is kind of falling out of fashion in some communities; for example, I know that a lot of students and professors alike in my art history department are completely against the idea of disrupting artifacts or objects for the sake of “discovery”.  A friend of mine and I were talking the other day: say we finally discovered Cleopatra’s remains.  What would be the point of disrupting her tomb and testing her DNA?  What would be the point of knowing exactly what her genetic background was?  What is ever the point of knowing these things that are, at the end of the day, irrelevant–at the risk of disrupting objects that are often sacred or at the very least culturally significant?

On a less physical level, there’s this huge tendency on Tumblr to comb through documents in an effort to prove yourself right.  You know!!!!  Except, you really don’t.  When dealing with history, there are many things we just can’t know.  And so often, I’ve asked a professor–who has their fucking doctorate in something–what does this mean, or where does that come from… And they just have to say “we don’t know”.  Barring the discovery of actual documentation, we often never know.  Even then, documents can be written with bias, or just plain mistaken.

We can’t know the unknowable.  This is perhaps more true for the history of art than history in general, but even then–you’re never going to prove yourself 100% right if you’re arguing about something that happened 100+ years ago and doesn’t have unquestionable evidence backing your theory exactly.  And then, it wouldn’t be a theory, wouldn’t it?  It would be a historical fact.

So much of the animosity I see here in a community I don’t even want to be directly involved with seems to do with the ego rather than actual history.

I’m literally triggered af and I just want to lash out & defend Taylor against everyone who keeps on saying hateful comments about her & LWYMMD
I’m choosing to try & keep my mouth shut and just let them say whatever the hell they want about the song & MV (even tho it’s hard af since I’ve always been an active member of the #TaylorSwiftDefenseSquad & literally would jump in front of a bullet for Taylor) because the #1 lesson we’ve gotten from this era thus far is NOT caring about what the people that DON’T MATTER are saying.
These haters don’t matter. What they’re saying doesn’t matter. All that matters to us is Taylor AND all that matters to Taylor is what we (her Swifties & the people in her life who truly love her) are saying. We love Taylor & Taylor loves us and at the end of the day, despite all the hateful & irrelevant things that these haters are throwing our way, the love that we have for each other will always be more than enough ❤️

Oh, and we’re also breaking record after record so I guess that can already speak for itself about how “bad” LWYMMD is & how @taylorswift is supposedly “over” 😏

“Whether or not rich people work hard is entirely besides the point. It’s irrelevant. They could jack off all day” is the best thing I’ve read all week

It's time for

I’m sorry.

I know I haven’t updated this blog in forever, and that Basara 3 of all things is wholly irrelevant now but

Back in my better ripping days there was one big problem

I could rip bgms and event dialogues, but not the tidbit voice files (say, from the gallery)

but now

it has finally


and I must celebrate

I just wanna say uh… if you’re an up and coming aes blog, don’t be afraid to let your personality bleed into it. When I first started this blog I tried really hard to stick to an aesthetic, I tagged everything, I never made personal posts. But honestly your blog shouldn’t feel like a museum where you’re afraid to mess things up. Talk about your day, reblog irrelevant things occasionally, let your followers get to know you a little! Interact with people. Send nice asks. Ask for tips on how to run your blog better. It honestly makes the whole experience better and it’s how I started gaining followers. And thank you to everyone who follows me, especially those who have been here since the beginning when I was trying really hard to stick to that Aesthetic™, and watched me grow into someone who just likes to reblog flowers and girls and dogs and other pretty things. Love you guys. 💕

Calum Hood Smut → I Hate You

Pairing:  Calum x Reader

Request: Yes

Word Count: 2.774

Part 2

Hanging out with my best friends is literally the best thing thing in this world. We laugh and talk about everything and everyone. We go out together, we make comfortable movies night at home, we joke around, we tease each other, I can be myself around them and talk about my problems no matter what and they always stay by my side. I love them and they are my favorite people in this whole world. But when those friends always bring this one kid you can’t stand, the day is pretty much ruined. I always try to shrug it off and pretend he isn’t even there but his stupid comments make me so angry and we always end up having a huge argument about the most irrelevant things.

Today happened to be one of those days. I invited Ashton, Luke and Michael over to hang out at my place since my parents left town for the weekend. My mother doesn’t like them much and forbids to have them around the house. For some reason she doesn’t accept them as my friends, she thinks they are bad company.

Right mom. Screw you. You don’t know what’s good for me. I tell her. Maybe I should learn how to shut my big mouth because each time I mention them to her she gets angry and on who do you think she lets her anger out? Exactly. Me. But I don’t care as long as I can still meet my friends behind my parents’ backs everything is fine.

The doorbell rang at 7.48 p.m. while I was in the kitchen preparing some sandwiches. “Door’s open!” I yelled and buttered another sandwich. “You should check who’s on your doorstep (Y/N). What if I was an axe murderer?” Ashton chuckled and ruffled through my messy hair. “I know how to defend myself Ash, I think you know that.” I laughed and swirled around. My face expression dropped when I saw the tall, dark haired boy standing in the kitchen doorway. “What do you want here Calum?” I snapped at him. “Ashton said we’d hang out, if I knew we’d hang here I wouldn’t have come.” He said and rolled his dark brown eyes. “You know where the door is.” I mumbled. “Could you two please keep it together for just one night?” Michael said and grabbed one of the sandwiches. I slapped his hand away, “They are not finished yet Michael, don’t be so greedy.”

“I’m not greedy.” He pouted. “I bet they taste awful anyways.” Calum commented, grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a bite from it. My fist clenched around the butter knife and I took a deep breath. “Fuck, man. Why did you have to bring him?” I hissed through gritted teeth. “We thought maybe you could try to connect?!” Luke said unsure and scratched his chin. “Yeah right.“‘Calum frowned. "Never gonna happen mate.”

“For once I agree with him.” I said and casually pointed to Calum. “Whatever. What are we gonna do?” Calum asked lazily and leaned against the fridge. “It’s like super hot outside. Let’s take swim or something!” Ashton suggested enthusiastically. “Yeah sounds good to me!” Luke agreed. “You don’t even have swimming shorts.” I commented with a raised eyebrow. After a little pause and exchanged smiling looks Ashton said, “We put them on before we came here.” I sighed. Ever since we got our pool two month ago all the boys wanted to do was swim or relax in the whirlpool. “Swimming it is then.” I said an finished the last sandwich. “You’re the best!” Ashton cheered and ran outside, close followed by Luke and Michael.

I collected the ham and cheese and turned to the fridge, where Calum was still leaning against. “Do you mind?” I asked annoyed. His eyes scanned my whole body, they stopped at me cleavage for a second before his eyes met mine. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Yes. I mind.” He said and a smirk spread over his face. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, I had to keep myself from not punching that arrogant prick in the face right now. “Calum I swear to god move aside.” I demanded. “What if I don’t?” He grinned. “I’m gonna slap you in the face.” I hissed. “Take your best shot darling.” He challenged with a smug look on his face. As soon as these words left his mouth I angrily threw the sandwich ingredients aside, raised my hand and lunged out. Right before my fist met Calum’s face he stopped my hand with his, holding me back by my wrist. He leaned down, our faces only inches apart. “You’re not fast enough darling.” He whispered and let go of my wrist. For moment we just stood there, looking at each other and I wondered what this feeling was that overcame me the longer I looked into his dark eyes.

“You just gonna stand there or what? Bring the sandwiches outside.” Calum scoffed and pushed me aside to walk outside. My mouth dropped open, “Asshole.” I muttered and put the ingredients in the fridge before I carried the sandwiches out in the garden.

Ashton and Luke were already in the pool while Michael lay on a sunbed scrolling through his phone and Calum pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his tanned body. I felt strangely attracted to him while he stripped down his jeans and jumped into the large pool. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him. I was, since day one but his arrogant and annoying character ruined basically everything. While I watched Calum from out of the corner of my eye I walked to the big wooden table and placed the tablet of sandwiches on it. “Can I finally eat one now?” Michael asked and gave me a puppy-eye look. A chuckle escaped my mouth and I nodded. “Of course Mikey.”

“Hey (Y/N) come on in!” Ashton yelled. “In a minute.” I shouted back and sat on the sunbed next to Michael’s. “Why don’t you go inside?” He mumbled with his mouth full of bread. “Not really in the mood.” I shrugged and stripped down my dress, leaving me in my navi blue bikini. “Why? Are you having this monthly women thing?” He asked concerned and disgusted at the same time. “I shook my head no. "Nah, I just don’t want to.” I said and glanced to the pool where Luke, Ashton and Calum were messing around. “I just wanna work on my tan.” I smiled, “And so should you.” Michael made a face, “No thanks.”

“Thought so.” I laughed and lay down on my sunbed. I had a perfect view to the pool and my eyes kept wandering back to Calum. It was like a car crash I just couldn’t avert my eyes. The boys were messing around and laughing while splashing water in each other’s faces and the grass around the pool. “Guys watch it please. You’re making the ground all muddy.” I shouted. “So what? It dries eventually.” Ashton shrugged and splashed water in Luke’s face. “Yeah after you slipped and broke your neck.” I sarcastically replied. “Oh just shut up and join us!” He giggled. “No I’m really not in the mood. Maybe later.” I stated.

It is ridiculous how long these boys can stay in the water without getting bored. Almost two hours later they finally jumped out of the pool and sat down on the the chairs around the table. “Oh damn.” Ashton mumbled after he read a text message from his mother. “I have to go. I totally forgot that we’re going out for dinner today.” He announced and put his clothes back on. “Oh no.” I pouted. “Can you come back afterwards?” He shrugged, “Dunno. I’ll text you okay?” I nodded. “Sounds good.”

“I have go with him. He’s my ride.” Luke groaned and put his clothes on as well. “It’s time for you to get a drivers license Luke.” I insisted. “Yeah yeah I will start soon.” He shrugged and gave me a hug before he took leave with Ashton. “C’mon Michael we should go as well.” Calum instructed. “Why? I wanna stay.” Michael said. “Because I don’t wanna hang around her anymore. That’s why.” Calum snapped and pointed to me. “Then leave. I don’t want you here either.” I snarled, rose from the chair and walked towards the pool, but not without shoving Calum aside by ‘accident’.

He tripped aside and stumbled over his own feel, falling down into the muddy grass. “You damn bitch!” He thundered and rose from the wet and muddy ground. His legs and parts of his back and stomach were covered with dirt. Both, Michael and I couldn’t help but laugh at his appearance. “Watch were you’re going.” I chuckled. “Oh fuck you.” He barked and stormed past me in the house. “Where do you think you’re going?” I shouted after him. “Taking a shower!” He yelled angrily.

“Whoops.” I laughed. “You’re evil.” Michael chuckled. “Me? Never.” I winked. “Anyways, I should go now as well.” He said and stood up. “What? And leave me alone with him?” I whined. “He’ll leave right after the shower believe me.” Michael stated and embraced me in a hug. “See ya.”

“You will rot in hell for leaving me alone with him.” He shot me a wink and quickly walked away leaving me alone in the huge garden. I sighed and grabbed the plate with the half eaten sandwiches and walked inside to the kitchen where I put the plate in the fridge. I got out a bottle of cold lemonade and poured it into a glass. “You!” I heard a dark voice say before strong arms pressed me against the kitchen island. “Do you think it funny to shove me around?” Calum hissed into me ear while he pressed his body against mine. “How should I know you’d stumble over your own feet? Oh wait, I should have known. You’re an idiot.” He swirled me around so I would face him and then pressed me harder against the kitchen counter. “And you’re a bitch.” I snorted, “Wow you can’t even come up with a good comeback.” I snapped and noticed his muscular naked chest. Damn.

“I fucking hate you.” He mumbled before he crashed his lips onto mine. This was more than unexpected but strangely I liked it. I liked the feeling of his lips on mine and his hands on my bare skin. I put my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his wet hair. He softly bit down on my lower lip, causing me to moan lightly. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and soon we were fighting over dominance, which he soon won. “I hate you too.” I breathed after we broke the kiss. Calum licked over his lips and without another word he pressed his lips against mine once again. He slid his hands down to my ass and squeezed both cheeks when lifted me up from the ground and I immediately slug my legs around his torso. He sat me down in the kitchen counter, not breaking the kiss once.

Our little make out session got more and more heated. Calum started to kiss along my jaw, to my neck and collar bones. A soft moan escaped my lips when he found my sweet spot, he started sucking and kissing on it, leaving a big, dark mark behind. “Fuck.” I softly moaned and dug my nails into Calum’s shoulder. His hand traveled from my knee, up to my thigh. He pushed my legs apart and run his index finger over my panties. “You’re so wet.” He mumbled against my skin. “All that for me?”

“N-no way in hell.” I teased. He pressed his finger harder against the fabric. “You sure about that?” I bit my lip and tried to suppress a moan when Calum started rubbing over my panties. “Didn’t your mother teach you that lying is a sin (Y/N)?” Calum smirked and hooked his finger inside the hem of my panties. “Stop being a tease you asshole.” I groaned. “Then tell me you want me.” He purred and swiftly slid my panties down my legs. “Because I know you do darling.”

He was right. I wanted him. For so long and now it’s finally happening but I hated to give him the satisfaction. “C’mon just say it.” He smirked and traced his finger along my wet slit. “Damn you.” I moaned. “That’s not what I wanted to hear darling.” He teased and dipped his fingers inside my folds, slowly rubbing figure eights around my clit. A low moan escaped my lips, “Shit Calum. Please, I need more.” I whined and bucked my hips. “So, you want me to fuck you?” He smirked and slips two fingers inside me, holding them still. I bit my lip and nodded. “Y-yes fuck.”

“Oh gladly.” He whispered and started pumping his fingers in and out of me, slow at first but eventually he quickened up his pace. His lips connected with my neck again, kissing and sucking, leaving marks all over it. Calum curled his finger and brushed my g-spot again and again. “Fuck, oh god.” I moaned out and scratched my nails down Calum’s back. He started pumping faster and his mouth crashed onto mine again, our lips moving perfectly together. My breathing hitched when I feel my orgasm building up in the pit of my stomach. “C-close.” I breathed in between kisses. “Cum for me darling.” He hissed and captured my bottom lip with his teeth. I quickly obeyed him and let my orgasm wash over me, causing me to moan into Calum’s mouth. It’s been so long since my last good orgasm, the feeling was sensational. “Oh god.” I breathed out.

Calum pulled his fingers out of me and licked them clean. “Never thought you’d taste so fucking delicious.” He smirked. “I never thought you’d be so good with your fingers.” I admitted. “Oh honey that was nothing.” He said with a smug look on his face. “Show me what you got Hood.” I challenged and opened my bikini top and let it fall to the ground. Calum licked over his lips and striped down his boxer, letting his already semi-hard erection slap against his toned stomach. He slid me to the edge of the counter and spread my legs widely. “You’re gonna scream out my name baby.” He smirked and his top brushed my opening. “Stop muttering around. Fuck me already.” I demanded and palmed his erection, a groan escaped Calum’s lips as I started pumping his length and quickly he hardened under my touch. “Fuck.” He whispered. I led him to my opening and he eased himself into me, which caused us both to moan. He started thrusting into me, deep and hard in a steady quick pace and his mouth was on my neck again, leaving hot kisses behind. I wrapped my legs around Calum’s torso and pushed him harder to me while my nails scratched down his back, causing him to groan out in pain. He quickened up his pace and his thrusts got harder and deeper. “Oh god fuck. Just like that!” I screamed out and left more scratches on his back.

He grabbed my waist to hold be steady while he pounded into me in quick and deep moves. “Oh fuck!” I moaned when I felt the familiar knot in my stomach again. “Fuck I’m s-so close.” I whined. Calum’s thrusts got sloppier and sloppier and the grip on my waist got tighter. “Cum.” He demanded and I gladly obeyed, letting go of all the control over my body. Loudly I screamed out Calum’s name when my second orgasm hit me, my vision blackened for a second and my legs were shaking. Calum hit his high soon after. He shot his load inside me and kept thrusting into me to ride out both our highs.

With a huge smirk on his face he pulled out of me. “Who would have thought.” He breathed. “What?” I asked, trying to steady my breath. “That you’re a screamer.” I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you.” Calum held up his hands in defense. “Not saying I didn’t like it.” He winked. “We could do this more often if you’re up for it.” I raised my eyebrows and looked at him, unsure of what to say. “Don’t worry (Y/N) we’re just gonna fuck. No strings attached.” He grinned. “No feelings. Just sex.”

I agreed, “Just sex. Nothing more.”

Five in the Morning

Title: Five In The Morning
Author: philanddanfiction
Inspiration: I started it while listening to 27 by Fall Out Boy, it’s changed a lot
Warnings: swearing, smoking, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, mentions of suicide, existentialism/existential crisis, heavy angst, it’s sad and angry and probs inaccurate
A/N: Let me know what you think!! I’ve been writing this for days…
Words: 2374

Dan’s starting to come home at five in the morning again, often glassy-eyed and always with the scent of smoke and the reek of alcohol clinging to his clothes, his skin, his hair. The smell permeates the flat almost constantly now, and Phil’s got so used to it being there that it no longer sticks in his throat and chokes him. That’s one less thing for Dan to get angry over, since he used to shout about how Phil’s muffled coughing kept him awake. And God knows Phil would rather the younger were asleep. Asleep, he can’t get into trouble.

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Bucky x Reader

requested by @untiltheendof-theline : Could I have a buckyxreader where the reader is Irish and has a really thick accent, and she’s really quiet and shy because of it and Sam is one of her best friends and she likes Bucky so Sam is always trying to get them together and In the end Bucky tells her he loves her accent or something? Sorry if this is complicated,I’m in urgent need of fluffy Bucky 😂 love your blog darlin’ x

Word Count: 1,409

A/N: cant believe i managed to finish this tonight :D i’ve wrote like the equivalent of three fics today and my eyes are about to fall out of my head so ya’ll better enjoy this or i give up

Originally posted by buckys-backpack

“Say something.” Sam commanded you, continuing to assemble the sandwiches.

“No.” You harshly whispered, turning your head around slightly to look and see if anyone heard you.

Wanda, Bucky, Natasha, Tony, Clint and Steve were gathered at the kitchen table behind you. They patiently waited for you and Sam to finish making lunch, as Sam had volunteered to do it. He dragged you into helping because the two of you were best friends and he enjoyed your company.  Sam knew about your crush on Bucky and was trying to get you to speak to him, but you refused.

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Nazi Era Snapshots and the Banality of Evil

That theme of implicit absence dominates Daniel Lenchner’s found-photograph collection. Scouring flea markets, estate sales, and the internet, Lenchner has collected over 500 snapshots of Nazis taken by Nazis that document their daily lives: their families, their friendships, and their leisure activities.  

As a Jewish man with ancestors who perished in the Holocaust, these intimate glimpses into the daily lives of his family’s persecutors bring him face to face with what political philosopher Hannah Arendt called  “the banality of evil.”

I met the 68 year old Lenchner last month in his sprawling New York apartment to look through his collection and discuss its implications.

VICE: What’s striking about so many of these images is that without the uniforms you really can’t tell that these people are Nazis, can you?
Daniel Lenchner:
 Yes, that’s really what my thesis is: These people are normal in appearance, but appearances are deceiving. There is the modern news phenomenon of people being interviewed in the street after they discover that their neighbor is a mass murderer. They’re always expressing surprise, that they didn’t realize it, that they should have known. The underlying assumption is that they could’ve known. But, if the truth is that there is no way to know, then you shouldn’t be surprised.

I interviewed the great-niece of Nazi leader Herman Göring once, and her family albums are filled with pictures like these. She talked about feeling the love that’s evident in so many of the scenes: fathers holding their children, spouses embracing, friends laughing. How do you confront the presence of those kinds of emotions?
Yes, these guys went home to their wives and children, and maybe they sang them nice German lullabies, but it’s not an exoneration. I mean, Hitler loved dogs, and he was a vegetarian. Great. But, it’s all kind of irrelevant. At the end of the day these things are reconcilable. No, not exactly reconcilable, but they coexist. The evil and the not-evil coexist in a person. But, in Nuremberg, it didn’t come up that they were nice to their wives because it didn’t matter.

External image

It looks like the man in this picture wasn’t such a great husband. Is this a Dear John letter written on the back?
A Dear Johann letter, so to speak.

Can you describe what we’re looking it?
Well, here we have this handsome studio portrait of a German officer, and on the back is this message from a woman, apparently his mistress. She writes that she’s giving back this photograph because it’s brought her back luck. He’s a playboy. She refers to his “wanderings in Weimar,” and makes reference to his wife.

What do you like about this picture?
It’s just so normal, so banal, just a man screwing around on his wife—nothing so unusual there. He’s a regular scoundrel, but put him in a Nazi uniform and all of a sudden we have a special kind of scoundrel.


Don’t you find your days to be really boring when your significant other is busy? Working, per say. Not boring because you need to be with them every second, but boring because the one person you wanna tell all the little things throughout the day isn’t there to be told. My days are boring without you to brag to, all the little, completely irrelevant things I get excited about or laugh at throughout the day I want you to know about, just because it’s you. Its not the same telling someone else. It’s so weird to admire another human so much that you just want them to know about your day, and knowing about theirs is just as important.