Buttons

I saw this on a twitter thread and, after bawling, thought it would make for a cute little Anthony / Hyacinth sibling drabble. So, here we go. ------------- Anthony had always been her beginning. He was the first person she would cry for when sick, the first person she wanted to hug in the morning and, when the day came to an end, the person she would seek to put her to bed.

When it came to buying clothes, however, it was her mother or Daphne she looked for. So, the day Anthony had taken her to town for a new dress, she had been excited and perhaps a little wary; after all, Anthony was not the sort of person to help his sisters play dress-up.

Even at the grand old age of five, Hyacinth had known this to be strange. That day was special, though, because on that day, Anthony had taken Hyacinth to a fitting at the seamstresses for a brand new dress that he had commissioned, specially for her.

It was blue, similar to the colours that their mother had used to decorate their living room. The buttons, however, were much darker, a piercing mid-blue against the softer hues.

"The colour of hyacinth's," Anthony said fondly, his smile faint. "Father's favourite flower."

Hyacinth hadn't really heard him, far too preoccupied with the buttons that had suddenly caught her attention. They were in the shape of the alphabet.

"A..." she started, tracing the shape of the first letter before her finger fell to the second one. "B..."

C, D, E, F, G...

"H," she finished, and blinked up at Anthony. "Where's the others?"

Smiling, Anthony crouched in front of his sister and looked at the eight letters on her new dress. His eyes had grown fond, his smile bright while he took Hyacinth's much smaller hands into his own.

"Because you're the littlest Bridgerton," he told her, squeezing her hands. "We start from A for 'Anthony' and end with H for 'Hyacinth', a little like the alphabet. Don't we?"

"It ends with H?" she asked, confused. Didn't the alphabet end with the letter 'Z'? Though Hyacinth had always considered her biggest brother quite smart, she couldn't help but think he was being quite silly in that moment.

She didn't question it further, however; Hyacinth was far too preoccupied with twirling in her beautiful new dress to care.

#####

When Hyacinth realised the 'A' button on her dress had fallen off her dress during playtime at school, she screamed.

She had ruined her dress. The perfect dress that Anthony had asked to be made for her especially. How could she hurt her big brother like that, like the dress meant nothing to her? Sniffling, Hyacinth looked down at the place where the 'A' button used to be, and wailed some more.

She was inconsolable. Her friends, frightened by her change in demeanour, scrambled to find a teacher to help. It didn't matter, though; nothing her teacher said or did would calm her down, not unless they found the button her brother had chosen to place on her beautiful dress.

Hyacinth had to be carried away from the playground screaming, the teacher whispering soothing things into her hair while rubbing her back. By the time her mum and Anthony had arrived at the school, Hyacinth was a hiccupping, red-faced mess, her words muddled as she tried to tell Anthony how sorry she was, that she was a bad sister for losing the precious button.

"I-I lost i-it," she wailed, stabbing a finger into her chest as Anthony scooped her up in his arms and hushed her.

"Shhhh, it's okay," he murmured, pressing kissed to her head an rocking her back and forth. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's only a button."

"I-It was y-your b-button," she sobbed, burying her face into his shoulder while he held her, doing his best to reassure Hyacinth it was okay, they would find it. But how? How would they find it? The button was lost forever.

#####

It took a few more minutes for Hyacinth to cry herself to sleep. In that time, Anthony soothed his youngest sister before gently placing her down on the sofa of the staff room. Lips twisting into a frown, he turned to his worried mother and Hyacinth's teacher, Miss Sharma.

"I'm going to look for the button," he announced all too seriously.

Violet's eyes grew wide, her mouth forming into a small 'o'. "Dear, are you really sure that is wise..."

"Hyacinth is beside herself, mother," Anthony snapped, careful not to raise his voice. "You know what she's like; she won't forgive herself unless we find it."

"Then why don't you buy a new button?" Miss Sharma piped up. Anthony groaned; he knew the woman was trying to be helpful but, in this situation, he'd rather she stayed quiet.

"An easy solution, indeed," he muttered, turning his attention to one of the school's more infuriating teaching assistants. "However, Hyacinth will know the difference; the button she lost has a small chip on the top. If I bought her a new one, she would notice right away that it isn't the right one."

Thankfully, Miss Sharma seemed to accept this answer. With a nod, she turned her attention back to Hyacinth who, even in her sleep, was hiccupping and sniffling over the loss of her 'A' button.

"Then you had better start looking," Miss Sharma finally said, her gaze returning to Anthony's. "Lunch starts in an hour; I suggest you find that button before the kids take over the playground."

She smiled then, her gaze soft as she sat beside Hyacinth, a gentle hand brushing through his little sister's hair. For a moment Anthony watched, aware of how attentive she was when it came to the students, before finally turning back to his mother.

"Call Benedict and Colin," he ordered, turning on his heel. "I'll need all the help I can get."

######

Moments before the school bell rang for lunch, Anthony found the blasted button.

"Benedict, Colin!" he cried, his smile brilliant as he held the miniscule button in his muddy, grass-stained palm. "I found it!"

His shout rang across the playground, loud and clear as Benedict - who had been scouring the netball are - and Colin, who had been searching around the jungle gym, looked up, relief flooding their faces.

"Oh, thank goodness," Colin groaned, making his way to Anthony. "Now we only have to deal with your moody a--"

"Language!" Anthony snapped, pushing himself off the ground until he was standing. Closing his fingers around the button, he turned to Benedict, who was slowly making his way towards them. "I appreciate your help, I really do, but please remember where we are. The children could be listening."

Colin rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh," he said, not at all seriously. "They're locked up in their classrooms, Ant; no need to have a cow."

It shouldn't have surprised Colin when Anthony thumped him in the chest. It still managed to knock the wind out of him, however.

"Come on," Anthony grumbled, stalking away from the field towards the cluster of buildings that made up Gregory and Hyacinth's school. "Let's get back this button back to Hyacinth."

#######

Hyacinth had been awake for fifteen minutes before Anthony arrived, her eyes rimmed red and her bottom lip trembling. Hiccupping, Hyacinth burrowed further into her mother's arms while she waited for the lunch bell to ring.

Miss Sharma had given her a chocolate biscuit, the kind that was kept in the teachers biscuit tin. Sniffling, the little girl nibbled around the edge of her biscuit when, finally, all three of her biggest brothers walked through the staff room door.

"Anthony!" Hyacinth half-shrieked, tumbling from her mum's arms. She barely acknowledged her mum's stern "Hyacinth," as the chocolate biscuit fell to the floor, all but forgotten while she clung to Anthony's leg. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

She started to sob again, her nose feeling dribbly and her eyes growing wet. But then she was being scooped up again, her small body filled with warmth as Anthony pulled her close and sighed, his large hand soothing as he stroked her hair and whispered in her ear.

"It's okay, Hyacinth," he murmured. "I found it. We found it."

And then he showed her his hand, dirty with mud and grass and there, in the middle of it, sat her letter 'A' button, chipped on top and now a little more scratched and definitely a little more mucky from the playground. But it was hers. Her 'A' button.

Eyes growing wide, Hyacinth looked at her button, then at her brothers before her lips formed into a grin, her squeal loud and delightful.

"You found it!" she shrieked, joyfully throwing her arms around Anthony's neck.

#####

Later that evening, Anthony sewed the button back onto the dress under Hyacinth's watchful eye. Once it was safely back in place, Hyacinth allowed him to tuck her into bed, her dress hanging on the back of her door proudly.

"You know, Hyacinth," Anthony whispered, his voice gentle while he ran a hand through her hair. "I can easily buy another button if one gets lost."

"But it's special," she mumbled, shuffling beneath the blanket. "You got it for me."

Chuckling, Anthony leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "It's only a button," he said. "I'd never be mad at you for losing it, sweetheart. We lose things all the time."

Of course it mattered, Hyacinth thought; it was the button Anthony had specially chosen for her dress. How could it not matter?

"Not me," she replied defiantly. "I never lose anything."

Anthony laughed. "Of course not," he grinned, kissing her other cheek. "You're Hyacinth; everything will always find its way back to you."

Nodding, Hyacinth tilted her chin proudly and smiled. "Exactly!"

#######

20 years later

"What are you doing?"

Looking up from her dress, Hyacinth beamed over at her sister-in-law with bright eyes. Kate stood in the doorway, arms folded across her chest as suspicion settled in her gaze. While Kate had no real need to be suspicious - at least on this occasion - she couldn't exactly blame her, either; Hyacinth wasn't exactly known for her desire to play by the rules.

"Nothing," she said, walking to the door. "I was just adding the final touch to my dress."

Arching a brow, Kate made her way into the room and studied the floor-length gown that now hung from Hyacinth's wardrobe door. It was beautiful, an elegant piece that would undoubtedly be ruined by mud stains and wine spillages by the end of day if Hyacinth wasn't careful.

And, knowing her, she wouldn't be; It didn't matter that tomorrow was her wedding day.

After a moment, Kate finally stepped back with a scrunch of her nose and her brows knitted together.

"You really didn't do anything to it?" Kate asked, still a little suspicious. Grinning, Hyacinth shook her head.

"Nope," she said, popping the 'p'. "Nothing at all."

Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy Kate who, after a final glance, gave Hyacinth a small smile and left the room, but not before warning her Anthony would be stopping by her room for a 'final chance to run away' chat. Chuckling to herself, Hyacinth closed the door behind her and turned back to the wedding dress, her eyes growing wet with tears.

She walked over to the dress and, turning it around, smiled down at her handiwork. There, lining the back of her dress, were eight alphabet buttons, now a faded hyacinth blue and a little chipped from years of wear and tear.

They began with 'A' for Anthony until they came to an end at 'H' for Hyacinth.

This is so cute, I had to reblog

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTdQuxw52/

I think I found my new favorite rabbit hole. This voice actor does Shakespeare scenes in a southern accent and I need to see the whole damn play. Absolutely beautiful

if you're not from the us american south, there's some amazing nuances to this you may have missed. i can't really describe all of them, because i've lived here my whole life and a lot of the body language is sort of a native tongue thing. the body language is its own language, and i am not so great at teaching language. i do know i instinctively sucked on my lower teeth at the same time as he did, and when he scratched the side of his face, i was ready to take up fucking arms with him.

but y'all. the way he said "brutus is an honourable man" - each and every time it changed just a little. it was the full condemnation Shakespeare wanted it to be. it started off slightly mock sincere. barely trying to cover the sarcasm. by the end...it wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

christ, he's good.

the eliding of “you all” to “y’all” while still maintaining 2 syllables is a deliberate and brilliant act of violence. “bear with me” said exactly like i’ve heard it at every funeral. the choices of breaking and re-establishing of eye contact. the balance of rehearsed and improvised tone. A+++ get this man a hollywood contract.

I love this monologue so much and here it is performed expertly well

hey so protip if you have abusive parents and need to get around the house as quietly as possible, stay close to furniture and other heavy stuff because the floor is settled there and it’s less likely to creak

Also. Breath with your mouth and not your nose. Your nose will whistle. Trust me. If you need to get into your fridge, jab your finger into the rubber part that seals the door closed and create a tiny airway. This will prevent the suction noise when you open the door. When drinking liquids (juice mostly), pour out your glass (or chug from the jug) and replace what you drank with water. If it was full enough in the beginning, no one will notice. DO NOT STEAL ALCOHOL. THEY WILL NOTICE IF IT’S WATERED DOWN. Bring a pillowcase for dried foods like cereal and granola. It helps to muffle the sound it makes when it pours.

If your house has snack packs (like gummy bears or crackers or chips), count them every day until you know the rhythm that they get consumed. (This took me a week and a half with my twin brother and sister). Then join the rhythm when you make your nightly visits. It will be that much harder to figure out it was you.

KEEP A TRASH BAG UNDER YOUR BED FOR WRAPPERS AND STUFF BUT DONT FORGET TO THROW IT OUT WHENEVER YOU CAN. BUGS YKNOW. Hope this helped.

I might have some useful info to add.

-a jar of peanut butter is long lasting and easy to hide under a bed or in a dresser drawer. I lived off of jars of peanut butter and boxes of saltine crackers I would buy on grocery trips with my mom.

-two words: Slipper Socks. These are the socks that have rubber designs on the bottom for grip. They make no noise, and also keep you steady on slicker surfaces like tile and wood. You can find them cheap at Walmart. They also keep your feet more protected if you’re outside.

-if you’re secure enough in your room to have a small food stash, make sure you’re not too obvious about it (duh) but also move its location every few days. I kept mine in a shoebox under my bed, then switched it to a backpack in my closet, then wedged between my bookshelf and wall, and I would cycle locations until i moved it permanently to a false-bottomed drawer I installed in my dresser when my father was gone for a weekend. I would NEVER put food directly into my stash after taking it. I would keep it in pockets of my clothes and between books until everyone went to sleep, then I’d stock and stow my stash for the next few days.

-get a water bottle with a filter in it. I used to be able to reach my bathroom from my bedroom door down the hall using a huge step or minor jump/leap. If I was afraid of being caught at night, I’d fill up the humidifier tank we kept under our sink while I took a short shower, and would refill my water that way. It might not be the best option, but I kept a small stockade of water under my bed for emergencies.

-if you can, smuggle your garbage out in your backpack or purse. Dispose of it at work/school. I got caught twice by carelessly throwing away packaging.

-if someone knows the situation you’re going through (close friend/partner/etc) see if there’s a way for them to get food or other supplies to you at school or work or what private time you may get. A hidden first aid kit literally saved parts of my body before and I owe it to a close friend.

-try learning the building’s natural rhythm. The house I grew up in would creak and settle heavily every night for 3-5 minutes. That was my shot, and I had to be QUICK. I still got caught a few times, but learning the patterns in our floors and walls, when they creaked, WHERE they creaked, kept me going. Eventually I was sprinting in slipper socks to the kitchen and back in less than 90 seconds.

-if you have stairs, or live upstairs. Sit as you go down them one at a time, or climb up them like an animal. It keeps you low/out of lots of motion sight, and also can reduce noise and creaking by distributing weight over more than 1-2 steps.

-You can use common hand sanitizer to remove the stains certain snack foods leave behind (coughs cheeto fingers) and a dry toothbrush can help scrub the color off your tongue. If you can get powdered toothpaste or toothpaste tabs to keep on hand, it makes a huge difference in sneakiness.

-I don’t recommend going for dried foods like granola or cereal unless you can sneak it to a secure place to get it. It’s too loud, it’s a gamble every time for something with less caloric intake than it’s worth if you get caught. Of course, there are times when that’s the only option!!

-if you’re taking milk, add water, but be SURE to shake/agitate the bottle to distribute the dairy fat with the water. I got into the habit of shaking milk jugs when I started sneaking it, and explained the habit as something I read in an old comic strip my father showed me. (Back when whole milk had a lot more cream fats and they’d separate, so shaking it would redistribute the cream.) I still shake milk jugs to this day.

-if your windows open or don’t have screens, eat leaning out an open window. Any food mess will be lost in the dirt. I was lucky I had bushes and birds outside that would catch my granola bar crumbs before anyone could notice.

-canned goods are tempting, but not worth it. It requires too many tools (can opener/strained sometimes/utensils/some need heat) stick to thinks like various nut butters (sunflower/peanut/almond), crackers, dried fruit, and easy to conceal food bars (nature valley/nutrigrain/etc.) dried ramen packets are good uncooked if you can stand the texture. Apple sauce and pudding cups are also easier to sneak and stash than one might think, and can be eaten with your fingers. The only canned foods I recommend are condensed soups and precooked pasta (spaghetti-o’s). You can easily mix them with a little bit of hot water from the tap and get something more sustaining than a handful of captain Crunch. The cans are cheap, sometimes recyclable, and drinking soup takes way less time than chewing solid food.

-if you menstruate, attempt to stash pads/tampons in a safe location. Sometimes shit happens. Pads can work as bandages in emergency situations. Sometimes shark week comes unexpectedly. If you can sneak a roll of toilet paper or paper towels, these are also life savers.

-plastic utensils from takeout containers can be hidden inside socks and will be worth their weight in gold when you least expect it. I bought myself a tiny plastic bowl from the dollar store and kept cheap trinkets in it on my desk so it didn’t seem like a bowl I was eating out of. You could try this with something like a mason jar, which is also useful for drinking out of or storing water.

-if you’re eating a crunchy or solid food, try soaking it in water. Mushy food can be repulsive in texture, but I could clock the sound of someone eating a nature valley oat bar from like 6 miles away. Dunking it in water (or using a secret bowl+water) can reduce noise, and also eating time since you don’t have to chew as much.

-keep a laundry bar or tide pen on you. Laundry bars are super useful, a little hard to find though. I washed a lot of stains out of my clothes with laundry bars in my bathroom sink as a kid. Not proud if it, but it kept me flying under the radar at school.

-clear rubber bands, plain twine or string, paper clips, and thumb tacks. Indescribably useful. I once rigged a system to open tricky cabinets and get objects from inside using two paper clips and a foot of plain string like a mock lasso system.

-if you’re pulling objects from tall cabinets, use your chest or stomach to cushion them. Let them fall into your torso and then into your hands cradled underneath. Not as loud, not as much grabbing, if someone sees it they can mistake it for it falling on you by the body language.

-get a bandana. Or four. Napkins, bandages, tool, and accessory all in one.

-get a tiny sewing kit. I’m talking 3 needles and a spool of thread tiny. Scissors if you can sneak it. See things into your clothes. Make hidden pockets or compartments. Threadbanger on YouTube did a video a few years ago about sneaking things into music festivals using tiny clothing mods, but they may be useful in sneaking money or medicine.

-on the topic of sneaking money. don’t take bills, take change. If your abusers don’t meticulously count their nickels and pennies, they’re an easy(ish) way to build up a tiny savings pool. I found nickels the least noticed coin I took, even more than pennies, and taking two every few nights from where they’d be tossed on our countertop soon built up to a semi-reliable fund I passed off to someone to get me food for my stash without having to sneak it from the kitchen. As soon as I became “independent” in my food storage, I was subjected to much less scrutiny. I managed to build up a solid 1-2 week ration supply after hoarding change.

-you can tape SD cards to the inside of book dust covers(the part that folds inside the actual cover of the book), if you have a sewing kit or zipper on it inside the stuffing of your pillow (trim a corner, stuff it inside, stitch it closed) or (this is final resort) VERY CAREFULLY remove the covering from your outlet and tape it to the wall stud before replacing the casing. I kept mine inside part of my wooden bed frame that I hollowed out using, you guessed it, take out silverware knives and 4 nights without sleep.

-THE FLOOR IS LAVA WAS KEY TRAINING FOR ME AS A CHILD. I learned to take pillows with me, climb on furniture to disrupt my flow of movement, toss a pillow down, and use that to cushion any rattle our living room could give off as I crept to the kitchen from the side entrance so my mom’s dog wouldn’t bark or alert anyone. I highly suggest crawling around on all fours like some sort of beast to stay out of sight.

-can you run your house blindfolded?? If you can’t. Maybe you should try to learn. I suffered some heavy eye traumas growing up and had a collective 3-4 months just IN THE DARK. Eyes bandaged, left alone. It was terrible, but damn if I couldn’t navigate the whole place silently, without any visual cues. This helps a lot with the whole moving around in the dark thing, too. Listening is obviously key.

-if your parents start getting suspicious, or you’re suspicious they’re getting suspicious, watch out for traps. String on the ground that gets shifted when you walk on it. Baby powder or flour left to track footprints or doors opening/closing. My dad was partial to wrapping a bungee cord around my doorknob and attaching it to the closet across the hallway. I wouldn’t be able to open my door enough to get out, or if I did, I risked ruining the structural integrity of the wrappings he did, and he would notice.

-learn to tie some knots. Strong ones. They’ll come in handy at one point or another.

-remember that you’re not totally alone. There’s people out there for you. Wanting to make everything better. You don’t deserve what’s happening, it isn’t normal, and you will eventually find help. But staying safe is important, and you are important.

It upsets me that people might need to know these but I know it could really help someone by reblogging

ALWAYS REBLOG

Technically true.

He got the job.

He takes his job seriously.

Prof Rad over on youtube dubbed the Wolf Hunter comic (click here)! 

Go check it out and give them some support! :) (also the end killed me haha) ₍ᐢ•ﻌ•ᐢ₎

The farmer sheared the sheep, and it was used to make a gift for Wolf Hunter, so…

Wolf Hunter goes to the village markets.

Wolf Hunter and his conga line of sheep.

Wolf Hunter was looking for them for a while.

This made me smile

I needed this.

Thank you to all the people who posted this so I ended up seeing it. I really needed this right now. Thank you!

Yeah… Not gonna lie… I cried…

We need more people like this

Goddamn it stop making me feel human

The therapist I wanna be.

Text in the image:

“I’m a therapist and keep this poster in my waiting room, apparently it’s saved a few lives.”

I don’t like the phrase “a cry for help.” I just don’t like how it sounds. When somebody says to me, “I’m thinking about suicide. I have a plan: I just need a reason not to do it,” the last thing I see is helplessness.

I think your depression has been beating you up for years. It’s called you ugly, and stupid, and pathetic, and a failure, for so long that you’ve forgotten that it’s wrong. You don’t see any good in yourself, and you don’t have any hope.

But still here you are: you’ve come over to me, banged on my door and said, “HEY! Staying alive is REALLY HARD right now! Just give me something to fight with! I don’t care if it’s a stick! Give me a stick and I can stay alive!”

How is that helpless? I think that’s incredible. You’re like a marine: trapped for years behind enemy lines. Your gun has been taken away, you’re out of ammo, you’re malnourished, and you’ve probably caught some kind of jungle virus that’s making you hallucinate giant spiders.

And you’re still just going, “GIVE ME A STICK. I’M NOT DYING OUT HERE.” “A cry for help” makes it sound like I’m supposed to take pity on you, but you don’t need my pity. This isn’t pathetic. This is the will to survive. This is how humans lived long enough to become the dominant species.

With NO hope, running on NOTHING, you’re ready to cut through a hundred miles of hostile jungle with nothing but a stick, if that’s what it takes to get to safety.

All I’m doing is handing out sticks.

You’re the one saying alive.

Just in case someone needed to see this

You never know if someone needs this. Reblog this, even if its not your ‘blog type’. Just do it.

Yes, please reblog

Do it. Now.

i sat here and thought about reblogging this or not but then i realized how many people feel suicidal, and i  have too its not dan and phil but i could honestly care less, bc i rather have someone not die then make sure i strictly stay to my ‘blog type’ 

Blog type doesn’t matter. Caring for people does.

This isn’t my blog type but *deep inhale* 

SAVING SUICIDAL LIVES IS BETTER THAN KEEPING IT TO MY BLOG THEME SO DEAR YA’LL WHO ARE SUICIDAL I’M HERE SIS/BRO/SIBLING!! STAY STRONG!!

Let me just say that I used to feel like that all the time. I’m taking a lot of pills now, but they help. I want everyone to try and find help when they feel depressed. Having a therapist does not make you crazy. It makes you a fighter and you are strong!

Go go go

10 Ways to Turn Revision Into an Adventure

For some of us, revision may be your next big challenge during Camp. Sounds a little intimidating, doesn’t it? Well, have no fear! NaNo participant Madison Vaughn-Parra is here to make revision fun! So… you’ve got yourself a first draft. Perhaps it’s years worth of work, or perhaps it was the product of the frenzied rush that is National Novel Writing Month. Either way, you’ve deemed it a complete work, which means only one thing: it’s ready for revision.

Did you picture lightning striking on a dark and stormy night when reading the big “R” word? If so, you’re not alone! For many, revision is even more intimidating than dreaming up a novel from scratch. If writing a first draft was an adventure of epic proportions, then revising that same draft is a slog through already-explored terrain, right?

Wrong! I’ve found that revision can be just as grand of an adventure as writing 50K in 30 days! To prove it, I’d like to share ten ways you can turn your revision journey from a dreaded duty into an exciting adventure:

Keep reading

funniest thing about any scooby doo remake is when they make fred a mean jock when in reality he’s a mom friend

99 legal sites to download literature

The Classics

Browse works by Mark Twain, Joseph Conrad and other famous authors here.

Textbooks

If you don’t absolutely need to pay for your textbooks, save yourself a few hundred dollars by reviewing these sites.

Keep reading

Mad respect for you doing all this research.

Air Himbo

Water Himbo

Earth Himbo

Fire Himbo

@crvggio​ I’ve been laughing at this for 47 years

And the Avatar

Reblogging again because that last addition is IMPORTANT

But when the world needed him most, he pulled the wrong lever...

Why do they even have that lever?

If you can’t find a place on your blog for Patrick Stewart in a bathtub dressed like a lobster, then your blog probably doesn’t deserve such majesty anyway.

It has returned to my dash and I cannot fight the compulsion to reblog…

the patrick lobster appears only once in a thousand years, reblog for good luck

…Luck is one thing. But just getting to look at this lovely man is another. :)

I finally found it! Smashes reblog button.

I love Tumblr

I’d divorce him too lmao

It’s never JUST about the tomatoes.

Basically!

Throughout the day, partners would make requests for connection, what Gottman calls “bids.” For example, say that the husband is a bird enthusiast and notices a goldfinch fly across the yard. He might say to his wife, “Look at that beautiful bird outside!” He’s not just commenting on the bird here: He’s requesting a response from his wife—a sign of interest or support—hoping they’ll connect, however momentarily, over the bird.

The wife now has a choice. She can respond by either “turning toward” or “turning away” from her husband, as Gottman puts it. Though the bird-bid might seem minor and silly, it can actually reveal a lot about the health of the relationship. The husband thought the bird was important enough to bring it up in conversation and the question is whether his wife recognizes and respects that.

These bidding interactions had profound effects on marital well-being. Couples who had divorced after a six-year follow-up had “turn-toward bids” 33 percent of the time. Only three in 10 of their bids for emotional connection were met with intimacy. The couples who were still together after six years had “turn-toward bids” 87 percent of the time. Nine times out of 10, they were meeting their partner’s emotional needs.

Damn, this made me think of all the “shouting into the void” social media posts everyone makes. Just bids for connection. From ANYONE.

I think that is ABSOLUTELY what a lot of that is. Our culture is very isolated (even BEFORE covid!), and we’re desperate to connect with others. I read an article one time that suggested that childcare workers stop saying that a child is “Just wants attention” and start saying that the child is “looking for connection.” We’re starved for it even from childhood.

When they are speaking about a passion, respond to children as if you would a tenured professor at a prestigious university, and to an adult as if you would a child free of the burdens of adulthood. 

Children are desperate to teach the wonders of the world that they know, that they have just learned, and share it with anyone interested.  Adults pour passion they didn’t know they had into voluntary obligations, and crave a simple acknowledgment of that passion as being worthy and valid. 

“Dear third grader, tell me exactly why you chose <x> as you third favorite carnivorous dinosaur instead of second, as specifically as possible.”

“Hey neighbor, your vegetable garden is absolutely gorgeous this year…and no I’m not just saying that because the tomatoes you gave me last year were absolute perfection.”

would you like some bread with your order?

My life has new purpose...

He wants some bread... 🥖🥐

Thank you to whoever put these together. XD

Conversely, best is a body that should.

Absolute worst case scenario: You find a body that should be there but when you come back it’s gone

“Guys?  Where’d she go?”

She’s behind you

Me [beating at the bog body with a shovel]: WE. DIDN’T. TAKE. SITU. PHOTOS. YET. Get back in that hole! You can go for a walk after.

The fact that I can picture myself and pretty much all of my archaeologist colleagues grabbing a shovel and doing this last bit just makes it that much funnier.

god this has to be one of the dumbest things i spent 5 minutes on but it sprouted fully formed in my brain the second i saw this post

(sorry for quality i’m drawing on a mouse)

That episode of Time Team you didn’t see.

You know you fucked up when archaeologists drop their coffee. Always take photos before you take a break, just in case the dead come back to life and destroy your trench!

OH MY GOD

The zombie looks so sad and confused...