Recently, as many of my posts may have stated, I just started college. I’m now living cross-country from my home with barely any close friends and relatives nearby.
While I’m eligible for work study at my school, any and all applications I’ve put in for various jobs have resulted in nothing but stress for myself. I don’t have a car or a license, so that means getting a job off-campus through the employment center is out of the question. I’ve applied for multiple outside scholarships as well, and in order to keep my scholarships from my school I will need to be studying for the majority of my time outside of class. I already have student loans, as well and I’d like to not take out any more.
I need money. My cafeteria is not open for three meals a day just because of campus rules, so I have to be able to buy food to cook. My parents can only give me so much money a month due to our family’s financial situation (because of medical bills), and most of it goes towards school expenses such as fees and transportation for off-campus events, which I’m required to attend for many of my music classes.
Today I added a “Buy me a coffee” button on both this blog and my writing blog @imagineteamfreewill. Any amount truly helps, because a girl’s gotta eat. I know that money is tight and a lot of you are college students as well, so if you can’t donate that’s okay, but please at least reblog this post so I can try to get some more money to buy things like food and toilet paper, as well as medicine for my allergies.
You can donate by clicking the button on either blog, or going here.
In return I can write you a Supernatural drabble on my writing blog (please read my Guidelines), or give you a promo on this one. Just shoot me an ask saying that you’ve donated and what you want, and I’ll do it as soon as I can.
…each time I realize that I like a character and do not like the person playing the role. The inverse never bothers me. I mean, there are villains played by actors I think seem to be very fine, personable, humans - but it is more jarring to like characters on a show but be sick of the actors/actresses playing him/her. Yes, this is about cast (or former cast) on SPN, and no, this time, it’s not Misha. I’ve resigned myself to his minions making me nuts (far more than he does on his own). There are just a few people associated with SPN that the more he/she runs his/her foul mouth the less I mind that I will probably not be able to make (or may walk out of) his/her panels at the SPN con I’ll attend this autumn. I think I’m supposed to feel “empowered” but I mostly think that it’s encouraging the trend to confuse being an offensive inconsiderate twat who thinks cursing or telling everyone else to fuck off if they disagree with anything you say or do is a sign of being “real” and “edgy” and “taking power in your life/the world”. No, it’s just being a self-important, self-centered, bitch who doesn’t know enough vocabulary to express his/her ideas without resorting to expletives every fourth word. In the other cases, I think the new “trend” to explicitly tell the fans at cons to be free to imagine “whoever you want fucking” is absolutely gross given the bleed many SPN fans seem to have between fictional characters (ship at will) and real people. If it was my real-life “friend” being objectified and dehumanized in such a manner, I’d sure as fuck not be encouraging it.
In subsequent cons, I think I’ll just go on Sundays. Looking at the scheduling, though, Creation always seems to sprinkle in that ONE guest I want to see on the other days though. (Julian Richings, Mark Sheppard, Ruth Connell, etc.)
your mattxmello art is beautiful and also, matt having dyed his hair different colors at different ages...have you singlehandedly fixed the problem of matts hair color???
Everybody should understand that Matt was a huge f*cking nerd and we all went through that phase, don’t lie (but fire-engine red is Mello’s favorite and forever will be), now let’s all stop arguing about something so irrelevant and all get along. You’re welcome.
Following the defeat of the Thunderwyrm, Takki returned to Cambridge. She recovered alongside her mentor, Tisquantum, and constantly wrestled with the beast. Suffering from withdrawals of werewolf blood, Takkimigwech managed to hide herself - hunting only when necessary. Despite this, she often found a way to escape the self-imposed captivity and watch Mary Eliza. They spoke often, Takki becoming a surrogate guardian of the child throughout her youth.
However, as the years towards revolution crawled forward - Takki became a fleeting thing for her human friend. Unable to visit due to the rising of cities and wilderness being cleared, Takki was eventually an afterthought. Despite this, Mary Eliza was rescued several times from harm - always suspiciously saved from peril.
Learning all she could from her mentor and seeing the idea of newfound liberty spread across the country, Takki eventually went westward. She departed silently alongside former travelling companions, leaving only word to her former mentor. She was last seen in the presence of Father Paol of the Adamantine Order of Gallant; leaving in his possession several letters.
Strangely enough, tales of a great bear circulated across the growing nation. They spoke of a `great bear who would arrive in the night, guiding wayward travellers and avenging those who would do harm to the native american peoples. These same kindnesses were sometimes repeated to imperilled Europeans.
After a few years of silence, the stories of the guardian spirits returned in 1863 amongst the Apache people. Striking at night, these animals - often a wolf or bear sabotaged multiple mining attempts into sacred land. These animals have been killed multiple times - only to be seen weeks later, continuing to sabotage and hunt down aggressors.
Sometimes, the spirits take the form of a powhatan warrior with the dangerous eyes of a wolf.
Can you write something about harry in the honeymoon What place is he gonna choose and things like that
I imagine he would choose some place that was special to you or that you would wanna go. And he’d keep it a secret until he couldn’t any longer, getting all grumbly when either the cabbie taking you to the airport or the captain of the airplane let it slip where you were going on accident.
He would make sure the location was kept completely secret that’s for sure. No paps or wayward fans unless you accidentally happened upon them.
It was only his fifth day of school, and Cas was sitting in detention. Sitting back in his chair, he had his feet up on the desk, sketch pad on his legs. Hearing the chair next to him move, he glanced over to see Dean. “You, too?” He muttered.
Dean shrugged. “Nothing new.” His eyes moved to Cas’s sketch pad. “Whoa. You’ve got some talent…” He reached over and took it, flipping through the pages.
Cas tried to get it back, but Dean leaned away from him, holding him back with his foot. “Come on. Give it back!”
“Nope. I’m impressed.” He grinned. Seeing a half done sketch of himself, he paused. He was oddly flattered. Cas’s cheeks turned pink as he sat back and groaned. “Why didn’t you finish?” Dean glanced over at him.
He shrugged. “Dunno. I just…didn’t.” His eyes were downcast.
Dean handed it back. “I think you should.” He said as he got up.
Cas’s eyes shot up to Dean, shocked. “I should?”
He smirked. “Yeah, man. I’ll even buy it from you. You’re going somewhere with that. Gotta get your work before you’re all famous.” Winking, he walked away to where he’d see Jo walk in.
Rules: answer 20 questions about yourself and tag 20 people. You don’t need to answer questions you’re not comfortable with and you can change the questions if you like.
1. Favorite color: Black 2. Favorite songs: Avalanche by Bring me The Horizon, Don’t cry by Guns N’ Roses, Hell’s Bells by AC/DC, Nothing Else Matters by Metallica, Devil’s Playground by The Rigs, Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas 3. Favorite bands: Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Asking Alexandria, Metallica, Pierce The Veil, Bring Me The Horizon, Kansas, Guns N’ Roses, Fall Out Boy, Twenty One Pilots aaaand many more. 4. Fictional place in which I would reside: No idea lol 5. Gender: Female 6. Hogwarts house: Gryffindor 7. Birthday: February 24th 8. Places I want to go: Osaka and Texas (no idea tbh) 9. Places I’ve been to: Transylvania, Romania and Istanbul, Turkey 10. Currently studying/working: I’m starting school on 15th of September at IV Language School Frederic Joliot Curie 11. Shows I really like: Supernatural, Doctor Who, Sherlock, Bones, Castle, White collar, Stranger things, Lucifer and many more 12. Current lockscreen/wallpaper: My lockscreen is a really weird collage thingy of Oliver Sykes and my wallpaper is Phil Lester holding a koala 13. Why did I choose my URL: Honeslty I have no idea I just really like puppies ( dogs in general) 14. Are there people from this website I’d like to meet: Ayyyy yes! My mutuals and followers 15. Salty or sweet: Both 16. Last book I read: Carrie by Stephen King 17. Favorite online shopping site: I don’t shop online a lot but I guess Amazon? 18. Favorite movie: Lights out 19. What did I want to be when I grew up: I really wanted to be an astronaut I have no idea why 20. What is your favorite thing about yourself: I don’t really like anything about myself but maybe my cooking skills lol
Letters from the Depths of Solitude (The Forty-First)
After Onegin was rejected by Tatiana–he, I’d remind, found her reading his love letter and pouring it with tears–his fate was not exactly clear. There are different versions (Nabokov wrote on all of them). The main direction Onegin’s wayward paths took–described by Pushkin, who considered proceeding with the novel–was a travel to the borderlands of the Caucasus, a usual place for disenchanted Russians of the imperial times to go get lost.
A rebellious land fraught with dangers, the earth beyond beautiful, picturesque in what today we’d call a cinematographic way: Meadows full of flowers, wattle-and-daub huts, medieval castles and forts, mountains with snowy tops, gradually progressing into sculptured clouds. The land inhabited by peoples reconstructed in popular Russian consciousness as peoples of excessive pride, independence, and cruelty; great bladesmiths and jewelers, harboring towards Russians a rattling concoction of passionate hatred and love. (Nothing new to the relations of the metropoly and colonies; colonizers always imagine themselves conquerers and enlighteners, and people under their rule both ingrates and appreciative welcomers, dreaming to marry their daughters to them.)
I see Onegin standing on some cliff, arms akimbo, taking immense grave pleasure in his solitude. And a perfect living example, a paragon of such hero was Mikhail Lermontov, the first Russian poet of melancholy, a great singer of poignancy, boredom, and despair.
Again a role not accessible for a woman, which I find all the more appealing.
I’d like to be not sitting in a glossy cafe somewhere in the West, but, with greasy hair for absence of hot water, drinking tea out of tin cup somewhere in Siberia, of course. And writing not maudlin poetry but things of importance–describing the Angara Cascade of dams, for instance, amid my beloved ruins-which-I-do-not-call-ruins-for-fear-of-offending-people-who-do-not-call-ruins-ruins-either.