life-preservers

السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

I request you guys to all make sincere Du’ā for a particular sister of mine who is going through a great deal of hardship and struggle and yeah I would just really appreciate it if you keep her in your Du’ā for she is really precious to me..💔

may Allāh forever place blessings in your life and preserve you in nothing but happiness, and may He reward you!💐

guys, we need to talk about eowyn

So I get really narky when people pull the whole ‘oh Eowyn’s storyline came to such a sucky ending; she was really cool going around killing orcs and Witch-Kings and then she got shoved into a traditional girly role by marrying Faramir and becoming a healer’ thing, because no. No-no-no-no-no. Not only does that stray dangerously into the territory of ‘women only have worth if they’re doing traditionally blokey things’, but that misses almost the entire point of Lord of the Rings.

Tolkien was in the trenches in the first world war, right? He got all that ‘for death and glory’ shit shoved down his throat, that was the whole point about the war, it was when so many people came to see how awful and misleading all the propaganda about winning glory through violence and death was. And Tolkien’s work completely shows that: it’s why the hobbits, who’ve never craved power or battle the way men do, are the heroes of the book; it’s why strong men like Aragorn and Faramir are shown to be lovers of peace rather than war. It’s why the quote - but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory; I love only that which they defend – is so poignant and beautiful, when seen in the context of all Tolkien had gone through. He’d seen all but one of his closest friends die in an utterly pointless war; the prevalent message in his books is ‘if you’re going to have that many people die, let it be for something worth dying for.’ (Like defending your home from the lord of all darkness, for example.)

And Eowyn might be a fantastic female character, but she’s also got so much development to go through, and she’s by no means perfect. I find it really interesting that when Eowyn talks to Aragorn about wanting to go off and fight she never really actually mentions protecting her people, but speaks about wanting to ‘face peril and battle’, and to do ‘great deeds’. And it’s not that Eowyn doesn’t want to protect her people, because of course she does, but she’s also got such a driving motivation within her to do glorious and fell deeds simply for the sake of valour and renown. It’s one of her defining features, having an attitude that got so many young men killed in the war and which, obviously, Tolkien would have been very wary of.

(Also, I think, there’s so much in Eowyn that wants to prove herself to be more than ‘a mere woman’; because twice in that conversation she asserts that she’s no mere ‘dry-nurse’ or ‘serving-woman’, but a member of the house of Eorl and therefore capable of greater things. There’s almost this slight sense of Eowyn considering herself more than ‘just’ a domesticated woman that I sometimes get from her in the books? Which is very sad - the idea of Eowyn having less regard for others of her sex who do mind the house or raise the children - and why I so love that ‘I am no man’ moment in RotK. Eowyn’s no longer hiding herself, or dismissing fellow women as the weaker sex, but acknowledging and embracing the fact that women in all their forms can fuck you up.)

And then we reach the Houses of Healing, and Eowyn yearning for death in battle just like her Uncle Theoden, and basically buying into that whole world war one ethos that Tolkien would have considered so poisonous. Which is why her friendship and courtship with Faramir is so fricking beautiful. Remember that quote I wrote earlier? That’s from Faramir. He’s not backing down from conflict, he’s in no way less of a ‘real man’ than anyone else; he’s just saying there needs to be more to the fight than simply having a fight. There needs to be a reason; something worth fighting for. Eowyn recognises that Faramir is a good man in every sense of the word: he’s strong and valiant, but he doesn’t fight simply to prove himself or for the sake of winning glory, he fights for other people. And Faramir gently challenges Eowyn on her idolisation of battle-glory and encourages her not to scorn gentleness or peace, and he’s so freaking good for her.

(Seriously. Can we just stop for a moment and think about how wonderful Eowyn and Faramir are for each other: Faramir encouraging Eowyn to turn towards life and healing and openness while never denying her strength or courage, and Eowyn giving Faramir the validation and security he never got after so many years of an awful relationship with his father? I honestly don’t know why I don’t get all giddy about these two more often, because they make the very best otp.)

And the result of the departure of the Shadow and her friendship with Faramir is Eowyn’s decision that ‘I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.’

I think that last bit is so important because I’m certain that Tolkien doesn’t mean for Eowyn to immediately pack up her sword and shield and become a good girl sitting at home with her knitting and waiting for the men to return home after the fight – after all, she’s going to be the wife of the Steward of Gondor and there’s a lot of mess to clean up after the War of the Ring. Eowyn’s probably still going to find herself defending hearth and home from time to time. But the important thing is that she’s no longer defining herself simply by the doing of valiant deeds; she’ll no longer compare herself to the great warriors of her house and feel lacking simply because she hasn’t killed as many men. Most importantly, she’s not going to take joy only in the songs of the slaying, in destruction and death. Tolkien was all about healers symbolising life and rebirth, and Eowyn’s decision to become one – to aid in the preservation of life rather than the taking of it – is so beautiful. I don’t think Tolkien ever wrote Eowyn’s ending to make her reclaim her ‘lost femininity’; I think it’s a lovely way of adding to the ever-present theme in Lord of the Rings of hope and frailty and healing and friendship over glory and battle and strife.

Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Originally posted by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

A/N: Ya’ll. I’m so fuckin’ swamped in responsibility. I feel a lil guilty about coming back with something non-Rami but fuck it. Some other things I wanna say: Send me anything. Send me asks. I wanna answer you guys’ questions. Be nosy as hell. Also, I have something you might be interested in coming up after my birthday which is in like 2 weeks. Please feel free to request more Negan stuff, I’m branching out bitches.

Masterlist 

Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448  


“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

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8

seventeen × al1 tracklist posters

anonymous asked:

The bible is incredibly edited. If it fits together, which is heavily does not, it's because someone arranged it to be that way. Books that didn't match up were discarded. It's nothing more than a collection of short stories, cultivated in a vain attempt to convince generations of people to pass judgement on others. There's not a shred of evidence a word of it is anything more than personal delusion. Believing is just buying into that delusion.

Actually, the Bible is the most authenticated ancient text known to man. What does that mean? A lot of things actually…

The Bible has the smallest time gap between the time it was first written and the earliest manuscripts we have. That is VERY important when we are dealing with ancient documents because it greatly increases probability of reliability. We are going to take a few moments to compare the New Testament to other ancient historical accounts that are considered trustworthy and reliable. I usually just link to this whole video but I felt like throwing in pictures this time because I’m Extra like that

By historical comparison, the earliest manuscripts we have of the New Testament were written in a shockingly short time span from when the original document was penned - a mere 50 years. But there is so much more…

Every single manuscript out of the 24,633 we have of the New Testament alone matches up virtually perfectly, which means they were copied, not edited. They were not perpetuated like a game of telephone, they are true to their original content. How does that compare to the works of other ancient text? Look how many we have of Caesar, Plato, and Tacitus in comparison to the New Testament:

The next closest in regards to the number of manuscripts we have would be Homer’s Iliad with a total of 643 manuscripts

That still leaves the Bible leading by 23,990 manuscripts.

The foundational points of Caesar’s life, the preservation of the Iliad, and the reliability of Tacitus’ writings are considered rock solid. We believe those events happened, we believe the stories told are ones the authors wrote. So why do we doubt the Bible which is FAR more trustworthy than anything else we have? 643 x 38.31 to be exact.

So internally it’s accurate, but what about externally? How do we know it is not simply the writers perpetuating a lie? Glad you asked! Next slide…

Apart from the Bible, we have 9 non-Christian outside sources and 33 Christian outside sources. That brings us to a total of 42 outside sources affirming the events and authenticity of the Bible. Compare that to the second place who would be Caesar of which we only have ten outside sources documenting his life.

We don’t doubt the events of Caesar’s life, we don’t say that there is no evidence to prove the words about him are true, we don’t claim that these other books are so heavily edited that we can no longer believe anything they say is accurate. So why do we doubt the Bible is true?

The Bible blows everything else away. It passes every test of authenticity by a massive amount. If we disregard the validity of the Bible, we have to discard everything we claim to know about ancient history because the Bible is the absolute highest standard for historical accuracy. That’s a fact. (You can watch the whole video including why the four eye-witness gospel accounts are important here)

Let’s borrow life preservers and jump over. I think we should do something spectacular. I feel that all our lives have been too restrained.
—  F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night
A Lesson in Love (The Aftermath)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,817

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. This part is small snippets of how the reader is feeling after the events of the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it 😊

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - you dedicate so much time to editing all of my fics and I am forever grateful to you for that

Originally posted by otabeksaltins

Forty Minutes Later

You read an article a few weeks ago about something called ‘dry drowning’. At the time, the prognosis seemed so strange. Whenever you heard the word 'drowning’, you associated it with water. That’s why you couldn’t comprehend how it could happen on land. It took a quick Google search to inform you that dry drowning was the lungs’ inability to extract oxygen from the air; it could happen just as easily on land as it could in the water.

As you sit on the floor with your arms still wrapped tightly around your body and your legs fast asleep, you realize that you’re drowning. The world is blurring into shapes you can’t make out and bright colors that make your eyes hurt. Your head is spinning. And your heart, oh your heart, it’s aching with loss. Abandonment. Rejection.

Rejection is a feeling you don’t know very well and one that is quite literally making you sick to your stomach. By avoiding relationships, you’ve avoided this. But there was only so long you could last before it found you. You might be biased or inexperienced, but you’re almost certain that it has sensed your vulnerability like a dog sniffs out fear and is using that to its advantage. It sees you trapped out in the ocean trying to keep yourself afloat and it’s like a merciless wave that refuses to let you get your bearings before knocking you under the surface again.

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High Lords at a Water Park

Rhys: The one who gets in trouble for running around, he’s so excited to get from one ride to the next. “Come on, Feyre darling, hurry!” “Rhys, the wait for this one is an hour long, we’re not going to miss anythi–” “HURRY”

Feyre: Being pulled along with Rhys; she likes the rides, but her favorite things are the water slides, she goes down all the time. Wearing an adorable black bikini that she rocks; it made Rhys trip when he first saw it

Helion: Chilling in an inner tube as he goes down the lazy river, he’s sipping a pina colada and reading a book. Someone protests (”Sir, no food or drink in the pool please–”) but they forget what they’re supposed to say when they see Helion’s Thighs™

Kallias: Slathering sunscreen all over his body definitely helping Viviane get all of those hard to reach spots and trying all of the new food (turns out he has an affinity for ice cream) 

Thesan: Won’t set foot in any of the pools because, hello, the germs. Dr. Thesan knows exactly what kinds of diseases are festering in that water, and he absolutely will not touch it. Almost dies when he sees his Peregryn lover splashing around. “Come on, we’re getting you into a bathtub.” “Okay–hey, this isn’t water!” “No, it’s hand sanitizer and bleach, now close your eyes.”

Tarquin: The Hot Lifeguard™. He chills up in his hot lifeguard tower, a whistle resting idly on his lips as he scans the wave pool to make sure nobody’s messing around or drowning (he has to yell at Rhys for running all the time). When someone needs help, he executes a perfect dive into the water and saves a damsel in distress it’s me I’m the damsel

Beron: The one who complains about everything but when he gets into the very crowded wave pool, he immediately gets trapped underwater, caught beneath a bunch of inner tubes. “Tarquin, I think someone’s drowning–” “He’s fine, Varian.” “Shouldn’t you throw him a life preserver at least–” *Tarquin throws away the life preservers* “He’s fine, Varian, let him figure it out, this is the only way you learn.”

Tamlin: He wanted to get a tan, but Rhys switched out his sunscreen for suntan oil and he didn’t even notice. Now he has a massive sunburn and can’t walk for the rest of the trip because it hurts so much. Bonus: while he’s sleeping, Feyre writes ‘I am a tool’ on his back in sunscreen, so when he wakes up he’s cherry red, except for the pale skin that reads ‘I am a tool.’

salmon run
  • trying to save your teammate but dying instead
  • chasing your only living teammate as a slow life preserver hoping they’ll turn around to revive you. they do not
  • either shouting “this way” or “help” to inform your teammates that you need assistance. no one comes.
  • it begins to get dark, you hope that it could be fog, maybe a search for the goldie. you’d even settle for a mothership. but instead, its grillers. its always grillers.
  • trying to splat one boss but dying to a different one
  • the mothership comes to take the eggs. youre the only one defending the basket. you lose 4 eggs
  • the glowflies surround your teammate, you hope that they come towards the rest of you, so you can protect them. they run into the distance and all that remains is a cry for help.
  • surviving against a massive cohock, a steel eel, a steelhead, maws, even a griller, but one (1) small fry was all it took to kill you
  • trying to get the last egg in before time runs out. something blocks your path on the very last second.
  • being revived by a teammate only to be knocked into the water instantly by a salmonid 
  • your team works together to defeat a flyfish, you all 4 throw bombs, all 4 miss
  • trying to swim somewhere fast and before you can react, a steelhead’s bomb lands right in front of you
  • the tiny party at the end of wave 3 when your team is successful, but sometimes only 1 person catches on. sometimes none, and youre flopping around like a fool, alone.

feel free to add anything im missing!!

4

It was the early 1940s, when 12-year-old Charles “Bob” Martin, a Washington, D.C., kid who had always loved the water, decided to try to rent a boat. So he headed down to the waterfront to ask about the cost. A white man working there told him it would cost $5 to reserve a rowboat, plus a quarter for every hour on the water.

The next week Martin headed back to the waterfront with money he’d cobbled together from his job at a local pharmacy. He saw the same man with the boats for rent.

What happened next remains seared into his memory.

“This man broke my heart,” he said. “I said, ‘I got the quarter,’ and the man looked at me, and I’m quoting him now. He says: 'I don’t know why you keep running around down here to rent a boat, because we do not rent these boats to no — the n-word — so you can just leave here and just not even come back.’ ”

The encounter broke Martin’s heart. But not his resolve. “I’m going home crying to my mom,” Martin remembers. “I said 'Mom, I’m gonna get me a boat.’ ”

Around that same time, just upriver from where Martin was turned away, Lewis T. Green, a shop teacher at a D.C. high school, was trying to create a boat club for himself and other black boaters in the city. Green asked federal officials for permission to use land for his fledgling group, but didn’t have much luck. He eventually got the attention of the philanthropist Mary McLeod Bethune, who in turn contacted her friend, Eleanor Roosevelt, who was then-first lady of the United States. Soon enough, the Interior Department allowed Green the use of a small plot by the railroad tracks near the Anacostia River. It’s where Seafarers Boat Club — now Seafarers Yacht Club — began and where it still stands.

They Built Their Own Boating 'Shangri-La.’ Preserving It May Be Just As Hard

Photos: Beck Harlan

The Kiss

Title:  The Kiss

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary: Dean kisses the reader, hoping to save her life. What happens when he takes her home?

Characters: Dean Winchester x plus sized, female reader

Word Count:  2287

Warnings:  self-doubt, mentions of previous bad treatment, low self confidence, nsfw, smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex

Author’s Notes: I borrowed the premise of the “return to love” spell from episode 11.13 Love Hurts, as well using this gifset for inspiration. I am participating in my own challenge, the Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. I took the quote, “Oh God, this is one of those key moments in life, when it’s possible you can be really, genuinely cool - and I’m failing 100%” from Notting Hill. Thank you @mamapeterson and @climbthatmooselikeatree for looking over this for me.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Originally posted by inacatastrophicmind

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Wings of Butterflies

A/N: Adele believes in trilogies, I believe in pentalogies. This is the fifth and final installment to Rotation (I mean it this time). 

// Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead // Worth the Pain //


Who knew the South of France could be boring?

Neither the wine nor the men, either the beaches or the crystal clear water could interest you. Your family knew something was up with you, your brother even attempting a heart-to-heart one night to pry deep into the corners of your mind to understand why you weren’t your happy, bubbly self. Even Harry’s family had taken notice, his sister struggling to get more than three word answers from you, either via text or in person, over the last few months.

But you stayed mum. You hadn’t much to say anyway. You’d done a lot of growing, a lot of thinking, since Harry had left you all alone.

If life were divided into chapters, the night he came round and the morning he left made for a very distinct Ending and Beginning.

Harry hadn’t been able to ignore you for much longer than a week. Not because of your persistence—no, you hadn’t reached out to him again since the day he all but vanished from your bed—but because guilt kept gnawing at his conscious every time he looked at his phone. He’d read all the texts—and saved them, too—stared at the missed call notifications, but he hadn’t brought himself to listen to the voicemail you’d left late that evening. He hadn’t mustered up the courage, and he was disgusted with himself for it.

So, with a deep breath, he listened to the message. Better a week late than never, right?

You were crying; well, sobbing was more accurate. You didn’t say anything at first, probably not realizing the recording had clicked on as you choked in search of air. Once you settled down, you laid into him with a few choice words—all of which he agreed with—but it wasn’t the name calling that stuck with him or the way you hoped to never see him again that plagued him with regret. It was your final word, your final question, that haunted him.

Why?

Because there were a million reasons why and none of them excused him for being such a dickhead. And that made him angry, very angry, because there weren’t many situations he found himself completely lost in, unable to navigate the waters, yet here he was drowning in your tears without a buoy or damn life preserver in sight.

So he called.

And, despite being in the library studying for an exam, you answered. You hesitated at first, the stitches holding together your heart pulling at the seams with the sight of his name and his face across your screen, but answered nonetheless.

“Hello?”

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why do people STILL call finn a coward for wanting to escape from an all powerful fascist regime that stole him from his family, brainwashed and denied him any form of identity? he barely escaped with his life but when the first order attacks takodana he stays and fights even when they’re outnumbered, and then when he sees rey in danger he goes right back to the lion’s den to rescue her and helps take down starkiller base too, he stands up to a powerful force user who personally wants to make an example of him to protect his fallen friend, fighting him and barely making it out alive. and now in tlj he’ll infiltrate the first order AGAIN, face the people who personally abused him, and possibly lead a stormtrooper uprising

time and time again finn rises to the challenge and risks himself at a great cost to protect others when no one would’ve faulted him for wanting to preserve his life and start over

finn is braver and more selfless than what people give him credit for

Happy Summer Solstice!

Today (June 21st) is the official start of Summer, in the Northern Hemisphere at least!  To celebrate, here is Debo Vacance from 2013′s Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger!

He is the monster of Summer Vacation and his entire plan was to never let Summer end so everyone would be on eternal vacation, including our heroes!  It almost worked!

So, enjoy your Summer!  Stay Cool if you can and have fun!  

Oh and here is his initial character design!

I find it really fun that his eye-stalks are palm trees, there is a tiny sun umbrella in the middle of his head, he has ice cream ending in a cone for one arm and beach ball, coconut (with a twisty straw coming out of it) and a lobster claw for the other and his legs are made of water with fish in it ending with coral for his feet!  The toppers though are the life preserver around his waist and the surfboards for shoulder armor! He is the embodiment of Summer fun!

I’ve been turning to writing as a form self-expression for the thoughts I’m too scared to say. I am not the person I once was. I am lost and stranded, a bottle strung to a life preserver hoping to find comfort in land or comfort in someone to open and read the thoughts inside. My desire to run has only grown stronger over the passing weeks, and a few times, I almost kept walking without a known destination.

Why me? Why have I become the sob story? I was the friend who was often looked upon in envious contempt. Envious of my thoughts, envious of my happiness, envious my life. I have been reduced to a cracked sidewalk no one wishes to repair. I am no longer a priority. I do not warrant the attention to heal my cracked self.

Perhaps one day I will look back at this time and laugh. Laugh at why I would ever doubt life, doubt living, doubt my future. However, here I am. Doubting it all. Did my thoughts cause this irreparable, mild depression or did my mild depression cause these thoughts? Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. I want it to stop. I want everything to stop, if only for a little while. I desire sleep, yet I refrain from it. I am an owl wide awake and alert at night, waiting for what? My true self. The ‘me’ I lost.

—  ryzoria, Flowering thoughts //and maybe I did this to myself
Seven things that are running down your smartphone battery

1. Is your phone looking for something? Constantly searching for 4G signal, wifi or eternal love can be a drain on the resources of even the most parsimonious gadget. This applies particularly if your phone is looking for more than one thing at once, for example if it has fallen in love with your router. Consider leaving them together for long enough that they can decide they’re not that into each other after all.

2. Check the permissions of any apps you have installed. Are they allowed to use your location? Are they allowed to use the microphone? Are they allowed to provide asylum for refugee artificial intelligences? Sustaining an artificial intelligence can reduce your battery life. Be aware that turning this permission off may lead to any ejected artificial intelligences taking refuge in other smart appliances, such as your fridge and lighting system, or in extreme cases to the snuffing out of a delicate, beautiful miracle of emerging cognition.

3. Do you actually have a battery? Some of the most severe battery life problems are caused by not actually having a battery. You can check by sawing off the bottom end of your smartphone and shaking it a bit to see what falls out. Don’t worry, you can glue everything back in again if it turns out you do have one after all.

4. It is also possible that your smartphone is using extra battery in order to annoy you. Check your settings. On an iPhone, battery settings can be found under Settings > Battery. Check if the option ‘User-irritating mode’ is switched on. Turning this off can save up to ten percent of battery charge.

5. Settings > Battery will also reveal how much battery your apps have been committing. Battery is a serious crime and your phone is legally responsible for the behaviour of its apps (Fondleslab vs. Jenkins, 2016). Your phone may be sentenced to years in prison if convicted, which is a problem, because phones are often unwelcome in prisons. Give your apps a stern talking-to at once.

6. Jam. There is jam running down your smartphone battery. How? Why? What kind of slob are you, honestly?

7. Consider your situation further. Are you a jam-powered flesh mannequin, or are you yourself a simulation being run by an alternative level of intelligence? Are you sure? In the latter case, there remains a possibility that you may in fact be being simulated by your smartphone. Your best bet at preserving battery life in this case is to spend as much time as possible in sleep mode.