After being left right before his wedding, Chris isn’t sure how to move on. He moves back home to Boston where he meets Hallie, a free spirited elementary school art teacher who turns his world upside down.
I never liked that “we accept the love we think we deserve” quote. Love is about allowing someone into your world and going into their world and creating your own world. It’s about constant support. What love do we not deserve? Who turns down love? Can you really love someone who does not love you back? Does it take 2 people to love? Never mistake infatuation with love.
It had almost escaped my notice that it is now May, the month that dooms to a heartbroken death 99% of characters from folk ballads. So, if you suspect you may be a character from a folk ballad, for your own safety:
don’t fall in love, don’t go by the river, don’t go to the sea, don’t talk to sailors, don’t gamble, don’t ramble, don’t go North, don’t go North-West, don’t stand in the wind, don’t dance with anyone named Sally, Sue, Mary, Ann, or Barbara, don’t go to the pub (but if you do go to the pub at least don’t drink, and if you do drink at least pay for your own drink, and if you are absolutely broke and have to let someone else pay for your drink then at the very least do try not to forget to toast everyone you know whom you think might be there very loudly and possibly multiple times), don’t lend money, don’t borrow money, don’t wish you had more money, don’t make plans to make more money, don’t start working for a new employer, absolutely do believe anyone who says they will try to kill you, curse you, or maim you, absolutely do believe anyone who says you might die, turn down every invitation to go a-hunting, horse-riding, or a-courting, be wary of flute players you meet on your path, don’t dance with satanic men in black coats, don’t marry off your daughters to the first man who’ll have them, and don’t promise your true love any herbs you can’t readily plant and gather in your own garden.
There. That should just about cover you for 31 days. Heed the warnings and you may have a chance to last the month. Good luck.
I am So Done with these criticisms I keep seeing like “It was good and all but Diego Luna didn’t work for me casting-wise, he was too wiry and soft-spoken, not action-movie enough” and I’m like??? SPY???? That’s the point????
Honestly people need to stop forcing the Hypermasculine Jason Statham Aesthetic bullshit irrelevantly onto characters that bear literally no comparison.
You could never back down, you never learned to take your - TIME
Aaron Burr, Sir:
Talk Less. Smile More.
My Shot: I think ya pants look hot ;)
The Story of Tonight: Raise a glass to freedom…
You want a revolution? I want a revelation!
Is he in Jersey?
You’ll Be Back:
I will kill your friends and family… to remind you of, my, love DA DA DA D-
Right Hand Man:
Burr! Sir? Close the door on your way out.
If you could marry a sister, you’re rich son. Is it a question of if Burr, or which one?
Laughing at my sister cause she wants to form a harem: I’m just saying if you really loved me you would share him.HA!
… He’d be mine. She would say “I’m fine” she’d be lying.
The Story of Tonight (Reprise): You are the worst, Burr
Wait For It: When they died they left no instructions, just a legacy to protect
I’m a general. WEEE!!
Ten Duel Commandents: Okay so we’re doing this…
That Would Be Enough: And if this child shares a fraction of your smile, or a fragment of your mind, look out world, that would be enough.
Guns And Ships:
No one has more resilience or matches my practical tactical BRILLIANCE.
History Has Its Eyes On You:
You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story.
Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down):
Immigrants, we get the job done.
What Comes Next:
Dear Theodosia: I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll make a million mistakes.
Hamilton wrote THE OTHER FIFTY-ONE
What’d I Miss?:
I guess I basically missed the late 80’s.
Cabinet Battle #1:
Turn around, bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits.
Take a Break:
You’ve written “My Dearest, Angelica…. “
Say No To This:
That was my wife who you decided to- fuuu
The Room Where It Happens:
The art of the compromise, hold your nose and close your eyes.
They don’t need to know me they don’t like you.
Cabinet Battle #2:
You must be outta your GODDAMN MIND
Washington On Your Side:
SOUTHERN MOTHERFUCKING DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS!!!
One Last Time:
I’m sorry wha-?
I Know Him: They will tear each other into pieces, Jesus Christ this will be fun :D
Siddown John YOU FAT MOTHER——
… We were sick and she was holding me, I couldn’t seem to die.
The Reynolds Pamphlet:
You could never be satisfied, god I hope your satisfied.
You, you, you
Blow Us All Away:
Everything is legal in New Jersey…
Stay Alive (Reprise):
I know, you did everything just right.
It’s Quiet Uptown: Forgiveness. Can you imagine?
The Election of 1800:
Well I’ll be damned…
Your Obedient Servant:
Here’s an itemised list of thirty years of disagreements. Sweet Jesus
The World Was Wide Enough:
America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me.
Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story:
Oh I can’t wait to see you again, it’s only a matter of time.
Congratulations: You know why Jefferson can do what he wants? He doesn’t dignify schoolyard taunts with a response
Dear Theodosia (Reprise): We bleed and fight for you, sometimes it seems that’s all we do.
Ten Things, One Thing (I genuinely can’t decide between these five so here you go):
- The sun is in my eyes. I am almost giddy as I watch it slowly rise over my New York City.
- I examine the gun that we shared. Philip never hurt a soul, he must have been so scared.
-I feel a sense of calm fill me, it’s not in his political interest to kill me.
- My Eliza is still asleep. I left her a letter, I could have written it better.
- They put us through our paces, we count to ten. God, I can’t wait to see her again.
Just a quick note to say I didn’t forget Tomorrow There’ll Be More of
Us, I just decided against including it because, in Lin’s own words,
it’s more of a scene than a song. Really it’s just the The Story of
Tonight sung over some quite, uneventful dialouge (very poetic given the content of that dialouge) so I decided to just leave it out. Anyways thanks for reading my random post I guess? Bye bye
“Not all men are rapists,” my Dad would grunt as he scrolled through his friends’ Facebook profiles and read the articles about sexual assault they’d posted.
“Not all men are abusive,” my Dad would mutter as he did research to disprove the domestic violence statistics that bothered him so much.
“Not all men are like him,” I’d mouth to myself, as Dad threw Mom across the room for having the temerity to contradict something he’d said.
After hurting her one night, he came to my room a few hours later. “You’re a sweet boy,” he told me. “I know you’d never harm a woman, no matter how much she deserved it. Not all men are like me. You don’t have a temper.”
I did have a temper, though. And I seethed.
Years later, I left for college an angry, confused young man.
I started off as a good student, but things began to decline as news from home trickled into my inbox. “Mom had to get stitches,” my sister wrote one day. “I’m off to the dentist to have a tooth capped!,” Mom wrote another time, leaving out all context about why. I knew.
I started drinking. My grades slipped. Depression spiraled, and while my rage remained internalized, I knew things were getting bad. I resented the women who turned down my advances. I’d say things about them behind their back - terrible, unforgivable things. My loneliness and isolation worsened. I sought out violent, misogynistic pornography. I hated myself for enjoying it as much as I did. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what turned my father on, too.
At the end of the semester, I was looking forward to Christmas. I’d hoped the break from school would help ease the tension I felt. I wanted to be home with my family. I knew I’d be going back to the source of all my problems, but I didn’t care. Familiarity was preferable to being alone.
It turned out things had only gotten worse. Without me there, my father was out of control. Somehow my presence had been a kind of mediator without my knowing it. In some ways, he hadn’t wanted to disappoint me, his only son, by acting like how he truly wanted to when I had been living at home.
There were no brakes on that ride anymore.
Dad drank more than ever. Raged more than ever. And it seemed almost like second nature for him to push my mother or my sister out of his way with little regard for the force he used or where they’d end up as a result. At Christmas dinner, we were gathered around the table. The family seemed to be in a decent enough mood after a day of Dad being on his best behavior. They were using the opportunity to enjoy the day. They were laughing and joking and celebrating. I couldn’t, though. I was overwhelmed by the stress. Stress from school. Stress from loneliness. Stress from my family. For the first time in my life, I felt like I might be losing control.
I did my best to put on a facade of good humor. I smiled and faked my way through dinner and most of dessert. Then my sister said something that I couldn’t laugh off. Something that stuck with me.
“I heard your ex Kayla is with Kevin Davis now. Talk about an upgrade, right?” She, and everyone else, laughed.
In any other situation, I would’ve laughed too. Kevin Davis was gorgeous. I had no residual feelings for Kayla, and I should have been happy that she’d gotten with such a good-looking guy. But all my feelings of rejection from the past few months bubbled to the surface. I started to breathe heavily. The room spun. Years of constant stress and anger and fear condensed in a wave, and everything went white.
Seconds later, when my vision returned, my mother was screaming. Dad had backed away from the table and was staring at me with fear and bewilderment. I looked at my sister. The remains of my sister. Half her head had been sheared away. Brain matter oozed onto the table and mixed with her plate of Christmas cookies.
Mom was hysterical and had rushed to my sister’s side. She was trying, with no success, to push the brain back into her daughter’s skull.
I felt hollow. Confused. The whole thing was so surreal that part of me thought I was in a nightmare. But then my father started to speak. Reality rushed in with a sickening jolt.
“You have a gift, Frank,” he told me. He spoke slowly. Methodically. I realized he was frightened. I’d never seen him like that.
“I didn’t know you had it,” he continued. I don’t. But your great grandfather did.” He paused. “Not all men can do that,” Dad whispered. “Not all men are like you.”
“Not all men.” The words swirled in my head and I thought back to every time he’d uttered those words. I felt nauseous. I flashed back to him sitting on the side of my bed, knuckles bruised from hitting my mother, saying that not all men were as horrible as he was. Yet here I was. Even worse. I closed my eyes and everything went white again. I felt a warm spray hitting my face. In the distance, there was another shriek from my mother.
I opened my eyes. My father had disappeared. The room was dripping with his blood. Steaming entrails stuck from the ceiling and, piece by piece, fell onto the table and saturated carpet.
Mom was huddled in the corner, sobbing. I got up from the table and she shrank back, muttering “get away from me” over and over and over between ragged breaths.
I surveyed the carnage. Then I left and never looked back. I’ve been on the run ever since. All day, every day, I hear my father’s voice echoing in my mind. “Not all men are like this,” and “not all men are like you.” I had believed him. Now, no matter where I go, when I see mens’ faces, I can’t help but wonder.
Do you ever think about how during mid S2, Isak had just ran away from home and was just so lost and scared and ended up living in the kollektiv’s basement. He was so scared of going back home, and I can’t imagine how he was feeling. Because he moved out from home when he wasn’t even 17. He was 16 years old. And then during the summer he officially moved in there and took Noora’s old room.
And in another place, same universe and same time, there was Even who just had his whole life turned upside down. With everything that happened in Bakka and feeling like he lost his friends, and just feeling so ashamed. He felt like everything and everyone turned against him. That he was destined to be alone. He just didn’t see the point of it anymore.
But can you believe that the universe told them to just wait? “I know that you’re feeling alone, but you just wait” “just hold on for a little bit longer” “there’s something good coming your way, trust me”
The universe told them to just wait, because a few months later they’d both find themselves at Nissen and their eyes would meet and they’d just know.
And it was like: “then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’”
So, while we’re all assuming that the cult ending was/is intended for some sort of creepy Halloween DLC, I wanted to throw my idea out there:
Make every character super dark/into a monster. Every dad has something super messed up about them going on and you need to save your dad/join Robert in ridding the world of these monsters.
Damien becomes an actual vampire, drinking the blood of the other beloved characters in the game (Quizmaster Quinn, may you rest in piece).
Joseph is, well, a cult leader possessed by a demon that is getting him to kill others for its own sick pleasure.
Craig has turned into a werewolf, and you must chase him (UUHHHGGG) down before he turns on River who is still strapped to his chest.
Mat, you don’t know what’s wrong…But something’s just…Not right. It’s not actually Mat, but everyone thinks you’re crazy. (Changeling)
Hugo’s son goes mad and kills his father, now Hugo is a ghost and you have to figure out how to bring him back.
Brian…Idk what to do for Brian. Go nuts in the comments. Hell, tell me what each dad should actually be instead of what I just thought of off the top of my head.
Robert’s the only one who hasn’t turned, so he’s the demon hunter of the town. You can either join up with him to save your Dream Daddy; Exorcise Joseph, cure Damien/Craig, find out what’s wrong with Mat, bring Hugo back from the dead, ETC. Or, if Robert’s your Dream Daddy, you help him out in ridding the world of all the other evil dads and adopt all their kids and become the best dads in the world together.
The end. Best Halloween DLC ever. Game Grumps, do this thing or something like it. Don’t make Joseph the only one with something creepy going on. Include everyone in the fun! Make it dark but oddly charming and adorable as you are so good at doing.
So there’s been a lot of hate towards V lately for unfounded reasons that can’t be sourced. While it’s true that there are things we don’t know about Mint Eye or information we don’t have in full, there’s also some false accusations that I can invalidate with proof. People can dislike V, that’s fine, that’s their opinion, I can’t change that. I’m not here to argue about V’s likability. However, what I am here to do is find direct proof to rectify false information that’s used against V. Excuses and their receipts below, with several photos as proof.
Girls that are made of sunshine and roses. Girls with soft eyes and a softer smile. Girls that bring serenity with them wherever they go. Girls that beam with the very light they came from every time they smile.
Girls forged from steel. Girls who protect those in need. Girls who carry a sense of respectable authority with them. Girls who will never turn down someone’s problem, no matter how small. Girls who act as asylum for the abused and as a weapon against the abuser.
Girls conjured from fire. Girls that burn with a passion that leaves everyone breathless. Girls that offer warmth but will burn those who get too close. Girls that will destroy in order for new to grow. Girls that are unbound by expectations.
Girls reborn from ash. Girls that survived unspeakable tragedies. Girls that need help to learn how to love again. Girls that realize that they are deserving of happiness. Girls that give solidarity and support to the ones who need it. Girls that are war-torn but continue to simmer with hope.
I give to you the rival sports team Klance AU you never wanted but are getting anyway because I have zero (0) self restraint:
I’m gonna say yolo and throw them into college bc college kids always have free time to do competitive sports and get scholarships and stuff so here we ARE in COLLEGE with SWIM TEAMS
Keith and Lance go to different schools but have been running into each other at swim meets for months and they’re always neck and neck in their times
Lance is the swim captain of his team and they represent the Blue Panthers from the state university and they’re one of the top teams in the league
Keith isn’t the swim captain but he’s kind of like the coach of the Red Lions? maybe their actual coach is a flake and someone needed to step in and actually Do Something, so he took over and all his teammates regard him as their coach/teammate duo bc he still swims with them, he just directs them kinda thing?
his drills are the most feared thing on the planet and everyone is terrified of Tuesday and Thursday night practices because inevitably Keith will make them do some sort of terrifying equivalent of suicides but in the water and everyone goes home sore and tired
so there’s a championship swim meet out of state and everyone’s been prepping for this for months and it’s a Big One
there’s always a pre-party for this kind of stuff, right?? well now there is, fuck it
Keith forbids his team to go because they need to be in their best shape for the morning swim trials and if he Hears One Word that any of them were there, someone gonna die
inevitably, his team goes lmao
he probably was swimming laps before bedtime when he hears the party raging on the floor above his own
(he’s an insomniac and has even more trouble when he’s sleeping in a hotel bed and swimming always helps tire him out)
annoyed, he goes to investigate and tell them to shut the fuck up bc SOME people have a competition tomorrow and starts banging on the door and Lance opens it with a flourish and a grin
Lance: GUYS JOSH IS BACK WITH MORE ICE
Lance: ….wait you’re not Josh
Keith: oh my god of course it would be you
Lance: HEY WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN
they start fighting immediately and then someone slips past the door behind Lance and Keith recognizes that hair and he shoves Lance aside to get into the hotel room and it’s one of his teammates oooooh boy he gon DIE
Keith just wordlessly points out the door and the few members of his team file out real fuckin quick bc they know they’re about to be reamed out
then Lance pushes Keith’s shoulder and calls him a buzzkill
Keith spins around and puts his palm on Lance’s chest and pushes him into the nearest wall and whispers all low and dangerous “I can’t wait to destroy you tomorrow.” then saunters off and calls over his shoulder “Enjoy your hangover!” and Lance is s h o o k
needless to say, Lance is hungover the next morning
the race is close, but Keith’s team places first and Lance’s second
Lance was the last swimmer so he’s hanging off the side of the pool and throws his goggle and cap on the floor and is cursing and wishing he hadn’t been the one to throw that party bc he fucked up and then he hears a small laugh
shocker: it’s Keith
Lance goes to glare up at him but Keith just pulled off his swim cap and his hair is tumbling down his shoulders like some brunette Adonis and Lance just gets angrier bc how can this guy be SO GOOD and also disgustingly attractive it’s like God is shitting on him it’s rude
going forward, it’s a total game on vibe with them and it’s such a back and forth between meets and it’s literally neck and neck with both of them pushing their teams harder than ever before and it’s wild
then there’s some big rager or kegger at some off-campus house and Keith is dragged out by his teammates as punishment for being such a hardass lately and “this is a great way to pull that stick out of your ass please don’t make me do fifty push ups for saying that okay i’m soRRY”
they walk in to some tall guy doing a hand stand on a keg and chugging upside down and his shirt has fallen down around his neck so he’s just this long, brown, toned stomach
Keith’s not blind, okay, so he admires the view but ultimately he’s just like …………….you’re all idiots and goes to leave except the guy gets off and lets out the grossest burp and wipes his face with this huge shit-eating grin
shocker: it’s Lance
Keith is shook
but he’s also immediately on the defensive and ready to fight so he gets all bristly until Lance spots him by the door with his friends and is like “hHEY yOu!” bc he’s loaded and he stumbles into Keith’s chest and pokes his collarbone and smiles even bigger and goes “betcha can’t do a keg stand”
shocker again: Keith does it bc who is he to turn down a challenge
long story short, they both end up making out in a coat closet and in the morning when they wake up in their respective beds after their friends dragged them home, they both remember it happening and groan and cover their faces with their hands
cue the awkward future swim meets and budding romance
The cardinal signs are the classical hero: the ones who step up to the plate at the first opportunity, they’re the classic knights, the ones with ambition, the fighters for injustice, the go-getters.
The Mutable signs are the nominal hero: they don’t Specifically set out to do good, but if it happens upon their way, who are they to turn the chance down? Their journey is within themselves, in the adventure, and whatever happens along the way, happens
The Fixed Signs are the anti-heroes: The ones who are forced to become good, thrown into a world where they are left no choice but to fight for their rights. Whether for security, for rebellion, for the ones they love, or just for their right to shine
I wrote this originally for Artist Alley Network International, but it struck a chord with a lot of people, so re-posting here!
Your artwork, and your merchandise, is WORTH SOMETHING!
1. You are producing something no one else can. Even if there are a
hundred other similar items, only you are making artwork like you. That
is worth something even if you don’t immediately see it.
aren’t walmart. You are a small business owner and need to charge what
you’re worth rather than race to the bottom to see who’s the cheapest.
This ties into #1… so what if someone else has acrylic charms for $3.
You are the only one selling YOUR art, so price it at it’s worth.
3. Shipping, storage, packaging, presentation, and protection are all
worth extra. Your item may only cost $1.50 to produce, but you also
spent .10 to upgrade the quality. You spent .50 cents to ship it. You
spent another $1 on packaging, and you spent $30 on the display it’s on.
You rent your apartment or garage for $500-1500/mo. Your table cost
you $300 to rent. Your online store charges you .20 cents per sale plus
a transaction fee. Your item will sell at a loss if you sell it for $2
or $3, even if production was less than that. Factor in all these costs
when you sell your item. PLUS, your worth. If you spent hours making
the design, you deserve some of that in compensation!
Perceived value is actual value. Customers who see an artist where
everything is $2-3 probably will perceive it as less valuable than the
artist who sells everything from $20-30, even if the artist selling
cheaper actually puts more time into their work. Perceived value also
will change the way a customer approaches your artwork. Will they
cherish it and save it and frame it, or will they punch holes through it
with a thumbtack, or will they forget it’s in their bag and find it
bent up hours later? Sometimes pricing your art higher actually creates
DEMAND, because it now looks like it’s worth something.
sketch does not necessarily = cheap price. Did you spend money on your
art education? Are you experienced in your field? Is there a lot of
demand for your artwork? Do you work professionally with many clients?
Did it take you years and hours to develop your style and speed? All
of these are separate from how long it takes you to draw. Which is why a
10 minute sketch might be worth $40 rather than minimum wage x time
6. We are all in this together. If you fight with
your neighbors on who can price art the cheapest to get the fastest
sales, you are fighting a downhill battle which will ultimately make ALL
of your artwork worth far less. Instead, look at an artist and go
“Wait a minute? They charge HOW MUCH? That means I can charge that
much, too” When I sit in a row of artists charging what they’re worth, I
notice that ALL of us make far more sales than if we underprice one
another. This also reflects in the market, too. If a client who
wants to charge $1000 for 24 illustrations is turned down by countless
artists they’ll realize they have unrealistic expectations. When people
start seeing the $ sign, instead of factoring in their time and energy
and take these low paying jobs, these clients will become upset when
they see the artist they really wanted turning them down. Obviously
artists from different countries will price differently, BUT, if you’re
selling to someone in a different country with a higher dollar value,
ask for that higher value! You’re competing against THEIR dollar rather
than your country’s dollar at that point. Same goes for pricing