Sormik week day 6! Woohoo! I’m back. No baby Sormiks this time, but have all the more fluff. This one is for @amarietie/ @tmariea for Storms in Our Blood. Today’s theme is “Lastonbell—Promises/Acceptance”, and although this scene indeed takes place in Elysia and has nothing to do with the Lastonbell promise, I figured the prompt was as good as any to do a marriage proposal. I… I went over the top with the cheesiness, didn’t I? *hides* The layers have fancy names to distract from the ridiculous romance going on here. Like “background panels”, background background”, “fucking rain”, “fucking lightning”, “rainy bits” and “rainy muchs”.
Anyway, I’m sorry this is so rushed, but I hope it gets the idea across just fine! I really really hope you like it, Mari! :,) This is my little thanks for your kind words and deeds for me, and for your Earth Armatus Rose occasionally saving my ass in ToLink, hoho. HAPPY SEVERAL MONTHS LATE BIRTHDAY OR SOMETHING
For everyone else: go read the story, it includes more artistic use of seraphic artes, and more kisses in the rain, if that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what to tell you
*It took trump 2 days to be forced to read a speech written for him.*
When he was asked on Saturday, the day of the domestic terrorist events in Charlottesville, he decided to blame the oppressed to make sure his buddies feelings weren’t hurt.
The White supremacists even acknowledged on their websites that trump not denouncing them on Saturday was good for them. He blamed both sides.
Both sides of White supremacy?
How do you blame the oppressed and their oppressors?
Unless you are a white supremacist as well.
TODAY, he read a speech.
Perhaps it took 2 days to find anyone on his team that isn’t a white supremacist to write it.
Everything that he said today could have been forced out Saturday night or Sunday.
When his daughter tweeted Sunday, he could have said it then.
When he decided to tweet against the Black CEO of Merck, who left the board today, Monday morning, he could have said it then. Instead he attacked him on Twitter.
So what happened in between Saturday and Monday afternoon?
He was forced.
It took him two days to read a script.
He looked forced.
He could not even act better than that and HE WAS ON REALITY TV!!!
*It took him 2 days to tell the White supremacists marching in his name, wearing HIS MAGA hats, screaming his name, fighting cops, religious leaders, press, beating and running over and killing at a rally organized by some of his supporters for him to give this speech!!!*
Do you guys remember the dream that Chris had about Layne? It just totally breaks my heart 😢
Posted on 10/13/2008 The essence of a dream can follow you all day long. Sometimes two or three days. I have had dreams as a little kid that I remember like they were yesterday, though as time goes on these dream are sometimes hard to tell from actual events as they survive in my memory. I am fascinated with the essence factor of dreams, period. They are as real as the essence felt from the ambience of an actual place, like a house you grew up in. Your favourite bar, or your school. The first Christmas tree you see every year, the smell of it, and especially songs. Some feelings these environments evoke are awful, some magical. All of them completely real. Real enough that numerous cultures throughout history have believed that the dream world is every bit as important and substantial and a vital part of human life as the conscious state. Some mysticisms actually look at the world of dreams as being the “true and only world” and everything else an illusion. For my money, if you put an ice pick through your hand, I think it will prove to be a pretty fucking good illusion. Last night I had a dream that has been following me all day like a sick dog. I was in a hotel near the house I grew up in. I was in a cafe that happened to be the lunch court of my elementary school. Various friends from my past were walking up and talking to me. In the middle of this scene walks Layne Staley. He looked much like he did the first time I met him. Shoulder length hair, clean shaved. Clear eyed and looking about 20 years old. I was so happy. Confused a little, but in a dream like this, I just wanted to accept the idea that there was some mistake and he was alive and well. He seemed happy and said was working on some new music project. I woke up not long after that with the feeling that I had really just talked to him and he was somewhere doing just fine. My next thought was one that has plagued me for years. Sitting in Kelly Curtis’ living room with about 30 people, all sobbing. We had just come from Andy Wood’s extra weird funeral-wake thing at the Paramount Theatre. It had these new age overtones that didn’t fit Andy’s life at all. There was an amazing film of Andy with Mother Love Bone band mates. All of Andy’s friends and family were there, mixed with a bunch of fans who I didn’t like but knew Andy would have loved. The fans went home. His friends went to Kelly’s. We were crammed in a smallish living room with people sitting on every available surface. Couch arms, end tables, the floor. I was leaning on the back of one of the couches that face away from the rest of the room and toward the front door. I remember Andy’s girlfriend looking at everyone and saying “This is just like La Bamba” then suddenly I heard slapping footsteps growing louder and louder as they reached the front door and Layne flew in, completely breaking down and crying so deeply that he looked truly frightened and lost. Very child like. He looked up at everyone at once and I had this sudden urge to run over and grab him and give him a big hug and tell him everything was going to be OK. Kelly has always had a way of making everyone feel like everything will turn out great. That the world isn’t ending. That’s why we were at his place. I wanted to be that person for Layne, maybe just because he needed it so bad. I wasn’t. I didn’t get up in front of the room and offer that and I still regret it. No one else did either. I don’t know why. Years later, at Layne’s funeral, I was angry. I kept hearing the “twice as bright, half as long” speech and the “he was just too special for this world” nonsense that I had heard at so many other funerals for so many other friends that were so young and talented. I’m not sure why I was that angry. Angry at Layne? Angry at all my other friends for leaving me? Angry at the people running around in circles saying “I knew him best” or “I was the only one he really trusted”, angry at all of them for squandering what I thought of as brilliant futures that would make the world feel to me like a place worth living? Or maybe I was just mad at myself because he was dead, and one time I had a chance to pick him up, dust him off and let him know that there was a person who cared about how much pain he was in and I didn’t do it. If I ever run into him in a dream again, I hope I remember to apologise. Night all. Sweet dreams. C
CRAZINESS Last night, JUGHEAD won the Eisner Award in the Humor category! I couldn’t be at the ceremony, but it was pretty great to see photos of my pals, Ryan, Erica and Derek, up there getting those trophies. I think that’s Ryan reading my too-long speech that I sent him in case we won (I stole that pic from Comixology. SORRY).
Starting this book with Erica, one of the most talented people I’ve ever met, was a dream. Getting to continue with Derek, an extraordinary artist who exudes fun on the page, extended that dream. And then reading the book when Ryan took over with Derek was yet another dream, getting to enjoy it as a reader. I could not have asked for a better Eisner winning scenario than with this group of people.
Here’s the speech I gave to Ryan:
“I’d like to thank Mike Pellerito at ARCHIE for bringing me onboard for the JUGHEAD relaunch, which was a childhood dream come true. And I’d like to thank Erica and Derek for their amazing art on the series. Erica crafted a fun, modern vision for these characters, and I’ll always remember when she told me I was the best writer she’d ever worked with. That truly meant the world to me.
Derek seamlessly picked up where Erica left off, deftly handling some difficult and emotional scenes. They’re two of the best artists in the business, and every company should be showering them in money ha ha just kidding this is comics
And then there’s Ryan.
Ryan, I am so proud of you, of the man you’ve become. You’ve always been so kind and generous with others, and to see you succeed like you have has truly been one of my life’s greatest pleasures. Looking at you now, all grown up and handsome, in your reasonably priced suit and tie, I know that the sky is the limit for you and your dreams.
I love you more than anything. And remember that I’m there with you now, watching from Heaven; which, as you know, is the gentleman’s club here in Toronto that broadcasts the Eisner Awards every year.
“Thorinnn,” you complain as you, Thorin, Dwalin and Fili mount your horses.
“Y/nnnnn,” he mocks.
The four of you were heading towards Dale for a meeting with King Bard. Balin had caught some type of illness so Thorin had asked you to come along.
You were an interesting one. A human living amongst dwarves and best friends with those who had reclaimed Erebor. Well, you were one of those that helped reclaim Erebor, but we’re not going to get into that.
“You might be wondering why I’ve gathered you all here,”
Wilford Warfstache places both hands palms-down on the table before him and
grins at the several other figments seated before him.
Anti glitches in his seat. “I was promised pizza!”
“And you brought me here at gunpoint,” Peevils says,
crossing her arms over her chest. “Not that I mind.” She shrugs and winks at
Wilford, who shudders.
Natemare kicks his feet up on the table and leans back in
his seat. “And I didn’t think you even liked me.” He grins at Wilford and cocks
his head to the side. “Frankly, I’m flattered.”
Bim fixes his glasses and glances around at the other Egos
at the table, somewhat skittish. “And I um… well, I’m not really sure why I’m
here. I mean, I am Bim Trimmer, but
you guys are… are…”
Wilford raises an eyebrow at him. “Are what?”
Bim presses his lips together into a thin line. “Never mind,
I retract my previous statement in the interest of not dying.” He looks down
at his folded hands on the table, and Wilford nods.
MadPat tinkers with an alarm clock attached to a bundle of
TNT and doesn’t even look up as he says, “I’d like to point out that I’m on a
time limit here and would not like to be held up much further.” His eyes cut
upwards to Wilford, “So please tell us why we’re here already.”
Wilford wiggles his mustache. “Esteemed guests, friends,
enemies, I’ve brought you here today… in the name of chaos.”
Anti’s pointed ears prick up, and the glitch leans in. “’m
Peevils rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.”
Wilford makes a face at her and goes back to his prepared
speech. “For too long, those of us with a knack for the unnatural have been
suppressed, or worse, left to our own devices. In such situations we tend to be
a bit,” Wilford brushes his hair back with a smile, “lethal.”
Bim clears his throat. “Um, I really don’t think that I…”
“CAN IT, TRIMMER! AND LET ME FINISH!” Wilford straightens
his bowtie as Bim clams up again and breathes a slow sigh to calm himself down.
“Now, it has come to my attention that ‘murdering’ is considered ‘illegal’ and
therefore, ‘shouldn’t be a recreational activity.’ So, I’ve decided to put my
skills to a more appropriate use, and that’s why I’ve gathered you all here
MadPat sets his bomb aside with a sigh and leans back in his
chair. “You brought us all together because we tend to cause trouble. Fine, I
get that. But what exactly is the purpose here? Are we going to go out and
solve crimes? Prank people? I need something a little more concrete than ‘recreational
chaos that doesn’t involve murder’ before I commit.”
Wilford squints at him and mutters something under his
breath. “I had hoped that maybe some of you would be a little forthcoming with
ideas considering that I did the work in getting you all here together despite
the egregious differences in schedules, Mister I-just-cancelled-my-sixth-game.”
Mad jumps up and grabs his bomb. “Well, I think that’s enough
for me. I’ll be leaving before this explodes.”
Natemare groans. “See, this is why you can never have any fun.
You suck the fun right out of everything. I like Wilford’s idea!”
Wilford places a hand over his heart and looks genuinely
flattered, but Peevils laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m with the nerd. You’ll need to
give me a much better reason than ‘chaos’ to commit my precious time.” She bats
her eyes up at MadPat who seems mildly offended that she called him a nerd, but
it’s not like he can deny it.
Anti pouts and glitches around into different chairs before
settling back into his own seat. “This sucks! I wanted to destroy stuff!”
Bim gets up and inches towards the door, sees the way that
Mad and Peevils are looking at him, and inches back. “And I’m extremely uncomfortable
at the moment, so I’d really like to leave now.”
Wilford fluffs his hair, making it go wild, and sighs in
exasperation. “Well, fine. Never mind that I put hours of work into this!”
Peevils screeches all of sudden, and Mare laughs as his
purple mist slithers away from her. “YOU!” She screams. “What did you do?”
Mad shakes his bomb as he explains. “His mist creates hallucinations
of one’s deepest fears.” He tilts his head to the side, trying to see into her
eyes. “What did you see?”
Peevils throws her hands out towards Natemare, and the
figment disappears and reappears inside the reflective glass of the table,
smashing his fists against the surface. She wiggles her fingers at him. “Maybe
you’ll think twice next time before scaring a girl, huh?”
Mare snarls at her before throwing his weight against the glass
just as Bim tries to bend it to let him out. The result is a splintering
explosion of glass and light, and when the dust settles, everyone is looking
around, trying to figure out what just happened. Mad holds up his hands. “It
Wilford peeps out from behind the potted plant he ducked
behind and looks around at them. “Maybe this was a mistake…”
Just as he says this, Dark bursts into the room, and Wilford
expects him to start yelling about how he can’t trust Wilford to do anything
without blowing something up blah, blah, blah. But instead, the black and white Ego
rushes over to Wilford, eyes alight with fear and concern. “Are you ok? I heard
a blast, and I thought somebody must’ve gotten hurt…”
Wilford’s jaw drops open. “Oh goodness giggly gooses, what
on Earth did we just do?”
thing you should in order to nail a presentation is organize and schedule the days in
which you wish to work on your assignment. I always recommend at least four
days prior to the presentation day, so you can thoroughly prepare your speech
and practice until you perfect it. Save those days to work hard on your assignment
and you will feel much more confident during your public speech. Always remember to break down your assignment into smaller tasks and divide them between the
Day One: In your
first day you should read and study the materials which were appointed as the groundwork of
your speech. Skim lightly through the text and then analyse it more thoroughly,
annotating the major arguments and most relevant aspects of the author’s dissertation.
This first analysis is of the utmost importance, as it lets you understand
the overall framework of the thesis and the main themes of whatever you are
going to talk about. Make sure you understand the basis of your presentation
well, before moving on and starting creating your speech.
analyse the text, make sure to use external resources to further complete your
knowledge on the subject. If you come across any words that you feel unsure
about, don’t forget to check out a dictionary or encyclopedia and research on the subject.
There’s nothing worse than incorporating an unknown term during a public speech
and being called out on it.
Day Two: In
the second day, you should start preparing the outline of your speech. This is
where your creativity will come across – after understanding the materials, you
now have the freedom to create your presentation, choosing in which order you
want to present different ideas and premises and the manner in which you will
use to explain them; either by formally defining your subject or by giving
illustrative examples of whatever you are talking about. If you are talking
about something very abstract, try to simplify your language and include a more
practical approach to your speech. During this time, I like to make a list of
all the points I want to cover during my presentation so I can use it during
the next step.
Day Three: In
the third day I formally draft my final speech. I normally type it down so I
can re-arrange it as I go along and I will consult the to-do list I made the
day before to make sure I am able to include all the topics I wish to talk about during my
presentation. What I usually do is create an extensive, thorough text, in
which I will base my presentation and number each paragraph, in bullet form.
Afterwards, I will create a simple outline with numbered topics – and each
number will indicate a paragraph from the extensive document. When I speak in
public, I like to have that outline in front of me, to help me as I go along.
If I read a topic from the outline and forget what I had to talk about,
referring to that topic, I will just quickly jump to the other document, using
the number I wrote to identify the paragraph to refresh my memory.
Day Four: In
the last day, I will only practice my presentation. My analysis is complete, I
am absolutely certain about the structure of the speech and now I just need to
make sure I can present it adequately without forgetting any of the major
topics. In order to practice, I will set an alarm for the amount of time the
lecturer gave us or the time I think is effective to present whatever I will be
talking about. Using a timer is the best method to make sure you are talking at
a good pace and assessing the fluidity of your speech. If you talk for too
long, you will lose your audience but if your presentation is too short, you
risk delivering a poor approach on the subject.
of a timer and speaking out loud will also let you assess whether certain parts
of your speech are useful or not. I normally tend to cut down almost 20% of my
speech during this last day because I normally find tons of information
unnecessary or just plain boring. This is also a principle that applies to
essays and other written assignments – make sure the content of your work is
just enough to deliver the day but without giving unnecessary details.
You know what I’m really gonna miss?
1) Catching your lollipop fastball,
2) Listening to your feminista rants,
3) And the way that you constantly interrupt me,
4) And oh, that horsey laugh.
I’m gonna miss that.
Especially on the plane.
1) I’m gonna miss your crankiness,
2) And your eye-rolling,
3) And your over-the-top speeches.
They are far too long.
4) And, mostly, I’m gonna miss your backhanded compliments.
And the beard. You’re gonna miss the beard. - Never. - Maybe a little.
“It’s important to me to show images to my children that reflect their beauty so they can grow up in a world where they look in the mirror — first through their own families, as well as the news, the Super Bowl, the Olympics, the White House and the Grammys — and see themselves,” she said (Beyonce Grammys 2017).
Beyonce’s Grammy performance speaks to gennerational traumas, to womanhood, to mothers and those who give birth to us and who are then punished for the act of pushing us out of their wombs. Her performance speaks to the Divinity within Black bodies, coloured bodies, marginalized bodies that have been taught that God cannot exist within us.
I see those who say her speech was too long, her words self indulgent, her image overated? I ask then, have you really listened and received what she is saying?
Why is it so contreversial for God to exist in the body of a Black Woman? Why is it so contrversial for Black and Brown and Coloured bodies, on who’s very shoulders our societies have long stood on to be built but is overdue in recounciliation and recognition, to embody the Divinity of Motherhood? To speak to that Divinity? And that glorious celebration of that Divinity?
Beyonce, with all her privileges and under privileges is using this platform to tell her story, and through her story to speak to generational healing of those who have been abused and brutalized by the toxicity of colonial masculinity.
It was perfect to me, Divine, and speaks to the reality of Divinity within bodies that embody God within our blood, our sweat, our tears, our triumphs, our healing, the revolutionary reality of our very existence, in a society that would make us invisible. When we become invisible no more.
LITTLE GREEN - CHALLENGE - (JONGDAE, PT. 12) [CHRONICLES OF THE WOLF SERIES]
Alright, there are two things that I have to say first! The first thing is, I have passed over 1,000 followers!! ♥ ♥ ♥ I feel so happy that so many people enjoy reading my stories, and I hope you will continue doing so! ♥ ♥
The second thing is about this update- this is happening right after the last Jongdae chapter (It was quite a while back, so I would recommend reading it again muhaha). Sorry to confuse you, I completely forgot that Jongdae had one more chapter to go before Kris was being introduced! Well, I hope you enjoy, sweets! ♥
[ Jongdae | Little Green ] \ challenge
the plate on the table, untouched when you leaned back against your mate, your
arms wrapped around his neck.
full?” Jongdae whispered, his hand stroking down your sides comfortingly
as you nodded your head. With one last look around you leaned down, burying
your face in his neck.
He was only able to ask before he felt your lips on his neck. He froze when he
felt you nibble on a small patch of it.
Ok so my posting schedule was messed up today. It’s been one
of those days, ya know? But anyway here’s part 4 of Mom and Dad! One more part
then this mini-series will be over! But I do have other Sid imagines to get to
(see queue!)! So enjoy guys!
Warning: a few bad words
smoothed out the white dress out as you sat down, Sid sliding your chair closer
to the table before he sat beside you.