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please my name is octi and don't follow me back I'm ashamed of literally everything I do
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First Home in the U.S. specifically for sex-trafficked boys is set to open in late 2016. Of course neighbors pulled a stink and tried to get the house shut down before it even opened.
The founders are still trying to take donations to help cover maintenance costs. You can find more information about this ministry and donate here.
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this new tumblr feature is ridiculous.
my sexuality is not something to censor.
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Unreadable, George Washington x Reader
Prompt: 7. “Wanna bet?” + Washington Drabble (which turned out to be way longer because GWash is 10/10 - except for the slaves)
Words: 682
Author’s Note: Washington is my favorite to write now.
Warnings: Washington is characterized as hella smooth. He probably was never this smooth.
Askbox | Masterlist | Prompt list
A ball commemorating the soldiers currently serving in the revolution usually meant three things: alcohol, elegant gowns, and you being immensely intimidated by the parade of soldiers in the uniforms that had seen battle and carnage.
Usually you stuck to the people who got you there in the first place: The Schuyler Sisters. Currently, your arm was looped through Peggy’s, who politely refused many dance offers in favor of finding a possible suitor for you.
“Lafayette is rather charming, is he not? Why not just one dance?” She pleaded.
“I believe he’s rather enamored with the curly haired woman in the corner.” You joked as he strode over to her, offering an arm for a dance.
“Right…Well…Oh! There’s General Washington.” Your eyes immediately landed on the lost powerful man in the room.
The mere sight of him had your hands clammy. How was someone supposed to act in this man’s presence without looking like a stuttering mess? You could tell he was in a deep discussion of business with one of his soldiers.
‘He’s a commander.’ You reminded yourself, ‘He’s always talking business.’
“The general is quite good looking, is he not?” Peggy teased, noting that you had yet to stop desperately dazing at him, “Doesn’t surprise me that you would fall for the most unreadable, powerful man in the whole country. I expected nothing less.”
“I have not fallen for him. I am simply…interested.”
“Which is a greater reaction than you have given to the last thousand suitors I have pointed out for you. This is a win. I’m sure if you keep staring like that he’ll definitely fall for you.” She unhooked her arm from yours as a waiter walked by with a tray of full champagne flutes.
“I doubt General Washington has time to dance with anyone, let alone me.” You chided, accepting the glass she offered you.
“Wanna bet? He’s on his way over.” Your head snapped back to where he had been standing, to see he had disappeared and was now making a beeline towards you, graciously brushing off anyone who tried to stop him on his way.
You desperately looked over to Peggy, who gave a sly shrug of her shoulders before taking the flute from your hand and taking her leave right as the general stopped in front of you.
He was much taller in person.
“Excuse me. I caught your eye from across the room and had to make your acquaintance. George Washington.” He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles
You gave your name and curtsied. He offered his arm for a dance, and you forgot how to breathe.
“You’re awfully light on your feet, General.” You remarked as he swept you into your first of many dances that night.
“And you are quite breathtaking.” He replied, noting that many of his men had stopped to admire the woman who was currently dancing with their commanding officer. He pulled you closer, and his men immediately got his message.
You spent the night chatting, laughing and dancing. He spoke of his command and upbringings. You spoke of your favorite novels, which you suggested he read.
“Not that you ever get breaks.” You teased him.
“For you, I will make time in the days.”
By the end of the night, your feet ached and you were completely and utterly drunk with his presence.
“May I write you?” He asked as you rejoined the Schuyler sisters.
“I would be heartbroken if you didn’t.” You breathed, unable to imagine another day where he wasn’t holding your hands gently in his and looking at you with that much light in his eyes.
“Well, I can’t have that.” He placed a final kiss to your hands before taking his leave, nodding to the sisters as he passed.
“You said he was unreadable, Peggy?” You asked on the carriage ride home, after they had drilled you with countless questions. She nodded, a smug look on her face as she believes she had set the two of you up, “He’s my new favorite book.”
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So this is a totally useless rant, but as a skinny girl, I’m getting extra, extra tired of fat-shaming.
I work for a corsetier at a Renaissance Faire. We sell corsets. Not flimsy bullshit costume corsets; like real, durable, waist-training corsets. Today a woman came in with her boyfriend, so I helped her pick out a corset and try it on. While her boyfriend—who was decidedly enthused about the whole corset thing—sat watching me lace her in, he told me, grinning, “Of all the good jobs at the Renaissance Faire, I think you have the best.”
I shrugged in agreement. “I touch butts and reach down cleavage all day; I mean…” Because we like to be a bit rakish at the Faire, and, y’know, it’s true. Tying people into corsets pretty much invariably requires getting handsy.
The couple laughed at that, and the boyfriend said, “That’s the job I would want!” But then he chuckled again and said, offhand, “Or maybe not; while we were looking at the racks, there were some pretty big sizes on there!”
Our sizes are all done in inches, and the biggest we make is a 46. And you’d better believe our large sizes sell. For a second I wasn’t sure what to say to the guy’s comment, but I answered him casually. “We get a lot of beautiful big ladies in here.” Because we do. “We make corsets for real women, not Barbie dolls,” I added. Wasn’t trying to be smart, just kind of tossed it out there because that’s the line we like to use when people ask about larger sizes, and because, again, we do.
The boyfriend went quiet at that; I didn’t think anything of it, I just kept on lacing. A moment later, he said, a little awkwardly (but sincerely enough), “Didn’t mean to be offensive.”
I quickly smiled and brushed it off, said he wasn’t, said I was just saying. (Don’t want to make the customers uncomfortable, you know?) And that was the end of it. His comment had rubbed me the wrong way, but it wasn’t a big deal. Now, I wear a 20-inch corset. I’m a few cup sizes short of being one of the Barbie dolls. Like his girlfriend, I’m one of the “hot chicks”; he doesn’t have to worry about offending me by implying that I wouldn’t be fun to poke and pull at.
Honestly though, of all the people I fit sexy technically-undergarments to in a day, fat girls are maybe my favorite people to lace up. Because they are just so damn happy that we have stuff that fits them. They are so damn happy that the corsets we make in their sizes are all the same pretty, shiny colors and cool flower/dragon/skull/etc. prints that the smaller corsets are, not ugly beige and boring “granny” colors. They are so goddamn happy that at least one (of several on the grounds) corset shop carries things that they can wear, that they actually want to wear, and that they look fucking awesome in. This is only my second season working, and we’ve fit 60+ inch waists and double-K busts. The only people we’ve ever had to tell sorry, we don’t have anything that fits them, are twelve-year-old kids.
It’s half-wonderful, half-heartbreaking how excited those women get. Women who say with sad smiles, when we ask if they want to get fitted, “Oh, no, you don’t have anything that fits me,” and then are stunned when we’re 300% confident that yes we do, and we have options. Women who can’t stop smiling and looking at themselves in the mirror after we’ve got them laced in.
I had a lady last week whose waist I measured (cinching the tape tight, as per procedure) at 41 inches—honestly not all that big. So she picked out a 41-inch corset to try on. I could tell halfway through getting her laced that it was going to be a bit big for her, so I mentioned it and said she might do better to try a smaller size. She started crying on the spot. She was so overwhelmed; she couldn’t believe someone had just told her that a 41 was too big. She told me about how hard clothes shopping was for her, how her mother would tell her she needed an XXXL instead of an XXL, how she had recently lost weight but still couldn’t wear certain colors because they didn’t fit or she wasn’t confident enough.
She did end up getting her corset, and after I checked her out she asked if she could give me a hug, so we ended up standing there hugging each other for a minute. While we did, I told her, “Do not ever let anyone tell you any bullshit. You are gorgeous.” She said, “I have a new boyfriend and he keeps telling me that.” I told her he was right, and to just keep telling herself she’s gorgeous; it was okay if she didn’t always believe it, but to keep telling herself anyway. (That’s how I talked myself through shit when I had bad anxiety.)
We all know fat-shaming is bad. The stupidity, fatphobia, and misogyny of it has pissed me off since I first became aware of it. But working with clothing, especially as figure-hugging and precise as corsets, has given me a new perspective on it—how much it affects people and just how shitty it is. Like, what does it say that I had a grown, only average-big woman crying into my shoulder because she was so overjoyed not to be the uppermost extremity of what a manufacturer can clothe?
My job rocks and it’s really rewarding, but sometimes it highlights some of the ugliest shit about society. I’m so glad I work at a shop that’s not bullshit about body types and operates with more people in mind than just scrawny white chicks like me. The fat women I work with are a ton of fun to lace up, and they’re so much more than their size—they’re cool, they’re smart, they’re funny, they’re sweet, they’re great to talk to, and yes, they’re hot. I’m so damn done with them getting short-changed and shamed by petty fucks who refuse to make them nice clothes, who refuse to even try to work for them, who refuse to consider them pretty. This whole rant was useless and won’t get read, but I had to vent because it’s been driving me nuts.
So actually, screw you, random dude. Fat girls are the highlight of my job.
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aesthetic for a blue pearl who really wants to serve malachite! lmk if u want anything changed!
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What are white dwarfs?
Some curiosities about white dwarfs, a stellar corpse and the future of the sun.
Where a star ends up at the end of its life depends on the mass it was born with. Stars that have a lot of mass may end their lives as black holes or neutron stars.
A white dwarf is what stars like the Sun become after they have exhausted their nuclear fuel. Near the end of its nuclear burning stage, this type of star expels most of its outer material, creating a planetary nebula.
In 5.4 billion years from now, the Sun will enter what is known as the Red Giant phase of its evolution. This will begin once all hydrogen is exhausted in the core and the inert helium ash that has built up there becomes unstable and collapses under its own weight. This will cause the core to heat up and get denser, causing the Sun to grow in size.
It is calculated that the expanding Sun will grow large enough to encompass the orbit’s of Mercury, Venus, and maybe even Earth.
A typical white dwarf is about as massive as the Sun, yet only slightly bigger than the Earth. This makes white dwarfs one of the densest forms of matter, surpassed only by neutron stars and black holes.
The gravity on the surface of a white dwarf is 350,000 times that of gravity on Earth.
White dwarfs reach this incredible density because they are so collapsed that their electrons are smashed together, forming what is called “degenerate matter.” This means that a more massive white dwarf has a smaller radius than its less massive counterpart. Burning stars balance the inward push of gravity with the outward push from fusion, but in a white dwarf, electrons must squeeze tightly together to create that outward-pressing force. As such, having shed much of its mass during the red giant phase, no white dwarf can exceed 1.4 times the mass of the sun.
While many white dwarfs fade away into relative obscurity, eventually radiating away all of their energy and becoming a black dwarf, those that have companions may suffer a different fate.
If the white dwarf is part of a binary system, it may be able to pull material from its companion onto its surface. Increasing the mass can have some interesting results.
One possibility is that adding more mass to the white dwarf could cause it to collapse into a much denser neutron star.
A far more explosive result is the Type 1a supernova. As the white dwarf pulls material from a companion star, the temperature increases, eventually triggering a runaway reaction that detonates in a violent supernova that destroys the white dwarf. This process is known as a single-degenerate model of a Type 1a supernova.
If the companion is another white dwarf instead of an active star, the two stellar corpses merge together to kick off the fireworks. This process is known as a double-degenerate model of a Type 1a supernova.
At other times, the white dwarf may pull just enough material from its companion to briefly ignite in a nova, a far smaller explosion. Because the white dwarf remains intact, it can repeat the process several times when it reaches the critical point, briefly breathing life back into the dying star over and over again.
Image credit: www.aoi.com.au/ NASA/ ESA/ Hubble/ Wikimedia Commons/ Fsgregs/ quora.com/ quora.com/ NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center/S. Wiessinger/ ESO/ ESO/ Chandra X-ray Observatory
Source: NASA/ NASA/ space.com
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please draw more of your fave td characters!
uuuughg uuu? yeah i think i drew them right fghjkl;
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Warning, discussion of Controversial Topics™ below, specifically concerning the Big Pedophilia Debate on tumblr.
So first off, I don’t want to get into the debate itself, for a number of reasons. And before any of you go off assuming i support one side or the other and yell at me about it, just, please don’t. I don’t want to discuss the discourse as a whole because I am just straight up not comfortable doing so and I don’t think I should have to explain why. So there’s that.
There is one aspect of the issue though, that I’ve seen cropping up more and more lately, that I AM gonna get huffy about, and that’s significant age differences between adults.
It seems there’s a growing number of people, not a lot thank goodness but they’re there, that believe that if there’s a significant enough age difference, even if both people are over eighteen, or even WELL over eighteen, then that’s a bad bad thing.
so.
I disagree.
Here’s a picture of my aunt Lydia and uncle Listo:
(an artistic rendition of them, I’m not gonna post an actual pic of my actual family on this site good lord)
They have been together for over twenty five years. They are also one of the most stable, loving, equal relationships in my immediate family. They adore each other, respect each other, and understand each other. When I think of a strong healthy marriage I think of them.
But according to this growing tumblr subset’s new standards, their relationship should be considered creepy and unhealthy, because when they met my aunt was in her early twenties and my uncle was in his early forties.
I’m sorry but this just steams me.
When someone is eighteen years old, when they are legally an adult, that means that they can choose to have a relationship with any other adult they wish. That’s how it works. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same age, five years older, ten years older, twenty, thirty, it doesn’t matter, it’s their choice. Any two adults having a consensual relationship is not your business.
If you only wanna date someone within your age range, fine. Hell, if you wanna sideye people who date people who are older then them, fine, so long as you keep it to yourself. But do NOT go around saying that significant age differences between adults are inherently unhealthy or gross. And for god’s sake don’t go around saying condoning relationships between adults where one is older then the other is somehow tangentially condoning pedophilia???????
That.
Is ridiculous.
Now I know not a lot of people are doing this, for which i am grateful, but I also know how quickly ideas can catch on in this site, especially with younger kids who don’t really know how to think critically about things yet.
So I just want to say here and now that not wanting to be with someone older then you is fine, and if you’re under eighteen definitely be wary of older people showing an interest in you, but do not attack people for depicting adult couples with an age difference, or being in a couple with an age difference themselves. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, and moreover it’s not your business.
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IT’S ALMOST SUMMERWEEN!!!
I love so much Gravity Falls (finally i get the second season, yay!!!) and i just realized that we are near to Summerween, so… happy and scary summerween to you all!
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playlist for Blue Pearl <3
1. Running Up That Hill - Placebo
2. Shampain - Marina and the Diamonds
3. Control - Halsey
4. Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez
5. Breezeblocks - Alt J
6. Skyscraper - Demi Lovato
7. Your Call - Secondhand Serenade
8. Plastic Beach - Gorillaz
-Mod Pearl
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