sarah island


Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping - Gag Reel / Bloopers

My favorite part is where Andy and Jorma are mimicking one of the SNL skits that Kristen Wiig and Will Forte used to do :)


Treasure Planet

“Now you listen to me, James Hawkins. You got the makings of greatness in you, but you got to take the helm and chart your own course. Stick to it, no matter the squalls! And when the time comes you get the chance to really test the cut of your sails, and show what you’re made of… well, I hope I’m there, catching some of the light coming off you that day.”

Jaden Smith as Jim Hawkins ~ Angel Coulby as Sarah Hawkins ~ Paul Bettany as Doctor Doppler ~ Gina Torres as Captain Amelia ~ Idris Elba as John Silver

anonymous asked:

Once a sick kid, and now a soldier, the possibility of imminent death is something Steve's had to grow accustomed to. Turns out, a sacred, somewhat odd nightly ritual, helps him cope.

It had been strange at first, after the serum, to find out how deep a ‘deep breath’ really was.  

He was lying on his back in his bed in Stark Tower and no matter where or when he was, nothing was as comfortable and as comforting as that last breath before winding down into his nightly ritual.  

His mother had started it; he never remembered a time when she didn’t sit with him, hand on his back and breathing slow and deep with him before mentioning three things she was grateful for and one happy memory, before another three deep breaths.  Sometimes, they were grateful it was sunny, and sometimes they were grateful they were Irish and sometimes they had such nice neighbors.  Sometimes it was bigger things, being grateful for being able to eat dinner or have heat.  They were always grateful, Sarah would always say, for second chances.  A new one, every day, my dear, was what she always said every evening.  

Steve took in his third deep, deep breath and held it for a slow count to ten before releasing it slowly.  Eyes still closed, he thought for only a few moments before murmuring to himself:

“I’m grateful for the trust of my teammates.  I’m grateful for belonging.  I’m grateful for second chances; a new one, every day.”

He paused again for several moments before continuing:

“Singing in the car with Rhodey after his PT appointment this week made me really happy, because I didn’t think he’d smile or laugh for a couple days.  It was a rough appointment and I admire him and he can really sing him some Sly and the Family Stone.”

Steve went quiet, taking three more slow, deep breaths, and drifting off to sleep.    


Sarah from Long Island: How come black girls are still throwing shade at white girls for dating black guys?

Franchesca: I’m gonna keep it real with you like, don’t gas yourself up; most of us don’t care.

Major Sullivan Ballou of the Union Army wrote this letter home to his wife Sarah in Smithfield, Rhode Island. It is considered to be one of history’s most beautiful and moving love letters.

July 14, 1861
Camp Clark, Washington

My very dear Sarah,

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days – perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye
when I shall be no more.

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure – and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I
should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how
strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution.
And I am willing – perfectly willing – to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows – when, after having eaten for long years the bitter
fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children – is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze,
that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death – and I,
suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of
the principles have often advocated before the people and “the name of honor that I love more than I fear death” have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and
bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give
them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I
know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me – perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar – that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If
I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your
happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet
the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night – amidst your happiest
scenes and gloomiest hours – always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or if the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him
among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters.

Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.


Sullivan Ballou, age 32, was killed on the battlefield in the 1st Battle of Bull Run seven days after writing this letter.

anonymous asked:

Omg I love that modern dates answer haha what else did she say? About nessian and also about the other couples?? What would their date be like??

Here is how the modern date conversation went down!

Tristan (me): “Hey Sarah do you mind me asking what would be the perfect modern-day dates for the ACOMAF couples?”

Sarah: Ooh! That’s an interesting question I never really thought of before! Let me think here…*ponders* I can see Rhysand taking Feyre on a private jet ride to Paris where they would visit the Louvre and see the famous artwork inside. It would be romantic as they walked down the city streets and eventually wind up at the Eiffel Tower-

Josh (Sarah’s Husband): *teasing tone* Maybe I should be taking notes so I know where to take you for a date?

Sarah: *laughs* You definitely should! I wouldn’t mind a trip to Paris!

Sarah and Josh: *Continue to tease each other about dates AKA all around cuteness!*

Sarah: That reminds me! Lucien and Elain would go to London and tour through the gardens before making their way out to the countryside. They are pretty much happy to be out in nature the most.

Sarah: And for Cassian and Nesta they would go to a private island or the Maldives where they would have some quality alone time if you know what I mean. *insert suggestive look*

Tristan: *laughs* Oh yes! I can imagine them “venting anger” towards each other on the island!

Sarah: *chuckles* Oh my goodness yes! They would have a LOT of time to “vent that anger” alone together!

Meryl Streep’s Acceptance Speech for her Cecil B. DeMille Award in the Golden Globes

Please sit down. Thank you. I love you all. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve lost my voice in screaming and lamentation this weekend. And I have lost my mind sometime earlier this year, so I have to read.

Thank you, Hollywood Foreign Press. Just to pick up on what Hugh Laurie said: You and all of us in this room really belong to the most vilified segments in American society right now. Think about it: Hollywood, foreigners and the press.

But who are we, and what is Hollywood anyway? It’s just a bunch of people from other places. I was born and raised and educated in the public schools of New Jersey. Viola was born in a sharecropper’s cabin in South Carolina, came up in Central Falls, Rhode Island; Sarah Paulson was born in Florida, raised by a single mom in Brooklyn. Sarah Jessica Parker was one of seven or eight kids in Ohio. Amy Adams was born in Vicenza, Italy. And Natalie Portman was born in Jerusalem. Where are their birth certificates? And the beautiful Ruth Negga was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, raised in London — no, in Ireland I do believe, and she’s here nominated for playing a girl in small-town Virginia.

Ryan Gosling, like all of the nicest people, is Canadian, and Dev Patel was born in Kenya, raised in London, and is here playing an Indian raised in Tasmania. So Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners. And if we kick them all out you’ll have nothing to watch but football and mixed martial arts, which are not the arts.

They gave me three seconds to say this, so: An actor’s only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us, and let you feel what that feels like. And there were many, many, many powerful performances this year that did exactly that. Breathtaking, compassionate work.

But there was one performance this year that stunned me. It sank its hooks in my heart. Not because it was good; there was nothing good about it. But it was effective and it did its job. It made its intended audience laugh, and show their teeth. It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter. Someone he outranked in privilege, power and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it, and I still can’t get it out of my head, because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life. And this instinct to humiliate, when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life, because it kinda gives permission for other people to do the same thing. Disrespect invites disrespect, violence incites violence. And when the powerful use their position to bully others we all lose. O.K., go on with it.

O.K., this brings me to the press. We need the principled press to hold power to account, to call him on the carpet for every outrage. That’s why our founders enshrined the press and its freedoms in the Constitution. So I only ask the famously well-heeled Hollywood Foreign Press and all of us in our community to join me in supporting the Committee to Protect Journalists, because we’re gonna need them going forward, and they’ll need us to safeguard the truth.

One more thing: Once, when I was standing around on the set one day, whining about something — you know we were gonna work through supper or the long hours or whatever, Tommy Lee Jones said to me, “Isn’t it such a privilege, Meryl, just to be an actor?” Yeah, it is, and we have to remind each other of the privilege and the responsibility of the act of empathy. We should all be proud of the work Hollywood honors here tonight.

As my friend, the dear departed Princess Leia, said to me once, take your broken heart, make it into art.

My October, 2017 wrap-up!

I love them all!! 😍

“He’ll Never Know” Part 2

~ Requested ~ || Requests are open

Summary: [Y/N] and Luke were best friends. [Y/N] liked Luke for a long time but something was always in the way— a girlfriend, a break up… Just as Y/N had given up pining for Luke, Luke realized his feelings for Y/N. But was he too late?

Part One

“You look cute!” your roommate Sarah gushed the minute you walked out of the room in a figure-hugging red dress.

“Do you like it?” you gave your dress a twirl.

“You look really hot,” Sarah told you, “Doesn’t she, Luke?”

Luke hesitated to answer. He cleared his throat, “Uh— yeah. Why are you dressed like that?”

“I’ve got a date,” you smiled. “With Will, my coworker.”

A car honked from outside your apartment. You rushed to your window and saw a familiar BMW parked outside. Will got out of his car and waved to you. “Ready?” he yelled from below.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” you yelled back. You grabbed your purse from the table. “Wish me luck!” you said over your shoulder as you headed out the door.

Luke and Sarah walked over to the window and watched as you and Will drove away. “What does she see in that guy?” Luke asked bitterly, “He looks so… pretentious.”

“He’s cute,” Sarah replied.

“A dog’s cute,” Luke retorted, “Why doesn’t she date Petunia instead?”

Sarah laughed, “Petunia’s a girl, first of all. And second, are you jealous?”

“I’m not jealous!” he exclaimed. Luke groaned in frustration and left the window. He sat back down on the couch and rested his feet on your coffee table. Sarah followed and sat beside him. 

“Well, I think you’re jealous,” Sarah countered.

“What makes you think that?” Luke asked.

Sarah shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe because you don’t have [Y/N]’s attention anymore, and it’s bothering you.”

“It’s not bothering me,” Luke insisted. He folded his arms across his chest and furrowed his brows. Sarah didn’t believe him. And neither did he.

Keep reading

“Creepy Bloody City.”

I find it weird how the Female Main Protagonist doesn’t seem to care that there’s like blood and coffins everywhere at the beginning of P3P. 

Conversely, if she did freak out, my comic from a year ago shows how freaked out she could have been..

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