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florence-pew · 26 minutes ago
The fact that every single woman in GoT - except Gilly - who gained power over the course of the show only did so by shedding each and every traditionally female attribute she had (romance/tenderness/familial ties/motherhood/etc) tells you all you need to know about how the writers couldn’t write a ‘strong female character’ (gag me) without stripping them of their humanity first
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fagotry · 29 minutes ago
so are the mechs albums supposed to be like chronological from last one to 1st one?? bc like hnoc kinda relates with the bifrost incident with the failed radio coms, and like maybe king cole was arthur??? idk idk idk
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sparenone · 31 minutes ago
rebekah mikaelson tags ( because i’ve missed my vamp barbie )
* ⠀ ── ⠀ rebekah⠀ 、 ⠀visage ⠀ !
* ⠀ ── ⠀rebekah    、 ⠀ musing ⠀ !
* ⠀ ── ⠀rebekah    、 ⠀ ic ⠀ !
* ⠀ ── ⠀rebekah⠀ 、 ⠀inspiration ⠀ !
* ⠀ ── ⠀rebekah⠀ 、   connection⠀ !
* ⠀ ── ⠀rebekah⠀ 、 ⠀answered ⠀ !
* ⠀ ── ⠀rebekah⠀ 、 ⠀headcanon ⠀ !
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bitribbles · an hour ago
made a guy laugh today in my history class. i’m in love
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orpheuslament · an hour ago
when anne carson said desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness and when anne carson said desire is no light thing and when anne carson said humans in love are terrible and when anne carson said when i desire you a part of me is gone and when anne carson said to feel anything deranges you and when anne carson said
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sapphicdeath · an hour ago
oh... tadashi is wilbur, baymax is ghostbur and tommy is hiro...
i don’t like this discovery
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ofmermaidstories · an hour ago
I really like your blog because you have this really life loving vibe, the type of people that see all the beauty in the world and stuff, so I wanted to ask you for some advice, if that's ok. By nature I'm also like that, kinda mushy, very heartfelt, but a lot of mistreatment from people in my life made me also very cynical, judgy and distrusting. How do you manage to keep this wonderous mentality about life?
In the afternoon, I like to stretch out on my bed, amid my pillows and my blankets, and soak in the late light and the autumn chill. I follow a grocer on instagram in a city three hours away from me because they post pictures of the produce they sell: pumpkins cut in half, jewel-bright tomatoes held in someone’s hands, sourdough loaves made by a neighbour. On the weekends they offer bouquets of flowers, supplied to them by a woman who bills herself as “a weekend florist and full-time mother” — this weekend it’s red berries and sunflowers, bundled up like babies being brought home from the hospital.
On Sunday it’ll be Mother’s Day: I’ll be spending the day deep cleaning the house and ignoring instagram and facebook (mostly bc they’re boring tho, let’s be real).
I live a two-hour car drive from anyone I remotely socialise with who isn’t the cashier at the supermarket I go to. Sometimes, I get so mad that I have to force myself to mentally and physically shut down, like, complete black-screen mode, sit there and stare at the wall — it’s a self-defence tactic to spare whoever I’m getting angry at, and to spare myself: unfortunately, I’ve developed a bit of a talent for being able to say the right thing in which to hurt someone with. Unleashing it comes at a high price, and I like the people in my life, so I would literally rather bite through my own tongue then let any of that vitriol fly when I’m angry and not thinking straight.
The rubbish trucks come for the bins every Tuesday. On Monday evening, around 9pm, I’ll wheel mine out to the road. There’s no streetlights out here, and I live in a rural area — so on dark nights when we’ve lost the moon, you can look up and see the Milkyway, like you’re standing underneath a river of stars.
I buy myself flowers; the women at the florist in town treat me like I’m their most favourite person in the world (and I eat that shit up). Afterwards I’ll be carrying whatever weeds I’ve bought with me, through the supermarket or whatever, and someone will always comment on them. I’ve lost one of the pearl earrings that belonged to my Grandmother’s set, a woman long gone, now; I’ve also misplaced my favourite hairclip, pale blue with a shinning shell clasp, that I got from a seller that shut down during the mess of last year.
Last weekend, I visited the cemetery; I sat with who I was visiting and watched an old man half a lawn away from me sit in a folded chair and read a book, play a little radio. A couple, visiting one of the plots behind us, carefully took the decorations on it - frogs, lots and lots of frogs - and brushed them off, wiped them down. Reglued a few and then set them all back into place, proudly.
There’s a young boy, interred next to my person, who I never met in life; he was fifteen years old and it’s been five years, now, and his site is littered with rubgy scarves and laminated letters from his friends, photos of them together, photos of them separately, growing up without him. Empty bottles of beer, badly written poems about meeting again. I say hello to him as I peel mandarins as a offering for the possums that forage around the cemetery at night, and occasionally I brush the leaves off his footy scarves and when I go to leave I say goodbye to him, too. After my last visit, I went to the busiest shopping centre in the city and ate braised beef noodle soup, from a place where they make the noodles in front of you, pulling them and stretching them easily. I messaged a friend with updates about my meal, laughing as she kept me company even from thousands of miles away, and then just as I finished, some friends who live in the city asked if I wanted to have some cake with them — from their favourite cafe. They’d given me a key to their home, earlier, so I could come and go as I pleased. The key meant a lot to me, though they’ll never know it; it meant a lot because it felt like a physical manifestation of trust, of them saying that yes, they did want me in their lives, no matter how limited or what kind of time left we had together.
People are multifaceted; like gemstones. We can be mean and delightful and trusting and hurt. I lean into the soft, squishy parts of myself with abandon — a lot of the time it works out. I tell people I love them. I let them say they love me. A couple of times, people have left my life because they didn’t have the space in theirs for me anymore — it was hurtful and ugly each time. Humans can come together so easily, sometimes, that the joy and brightness of it can make you forget how ugly and hard it is when we leave each other in the wrong way. People and things will hurt you. That’s just a fact. Some days you’re not going to have the energy for anything but the self-preservation of being distrustful, or cynical, judgemental, and that’s okay — I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, sometimes we have to be selfish to protect what’s left of our hearts.
I keep a list of things that make me smile. I also keep a list of things that fucking shit me right off. The list of things that shit me is longer than the list of things that make me smile, but it’s because when I see something good — a bright red letterbox, a little kid that’s waving to everyone, a pleasing colour of the sky — I don’t think to write it down, because it’s generally so fleeting and so cheery. It does its job. Find the small things in your day to day that you like to linger over, that make you happy; the bad stuff still happens, and you’ll still have waves where it doesn’t seem worth the effort, but the small bright things fill the moments and remind you that it’s all part and parcel of this universal existence.
Here’s to a gentle weekend ahead, Anon. ✨🌻🍊🌿
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shriamato · an hour ago
Sometimes your brain makes a connection you'd really rather it didn't, and then you have to figure out how to forever live with that knowledge. I don't reccomend this.
This is not as angsty as it might sound, it's just a really weird connection that I don't entirely know how to process, lol.
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barnaclehead · an hour ago
That time my ex told me she didnt like going to social gatherings/conventions with me because other people liked being around me?
Nothing has ever fucked me up more than that
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solaeria · an hour ago
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.     ❛    you’re so beautiful when you laugh. i wish i could see it more, but maybe it’s the rarity of it that makes it so captivating.   ━━━━  @insiidious​​  .   gojou
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𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂  𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝚈  𝙷𝙰𝙸𝚁  Nanami  was  certain  he  painted  quite  the  picture  ━━━━━━━━━    curled  up  on  one  side  of  the  couch,  a  book  in  hand  while  his  tea  rested  on  the  coffee  table,  eyes  free  from  the  usual  sunglasses  now  squinted  in  delight  as  he  laughed.  This  development  between  them  was  new    ;    Nanami  reluctant  into  accepting  that  Gojou  Satoru  would  ever  be  interested  in  him  ━━━━━━  and  yet  the  white-haired  sorcerer  had  proved  him  wrong.  They  had  agreed  to  take  things  slow,  something  that  Kento  suspected  was  more  for  his  sake  than  for  Gojou's,  but  he  appreciated  it  nonetheless.  ❛        Gojou-san...        ❜    he  said,  giggles  still  shaking  his  body,  strands  of  his  blond  hair  tickling  his  face  as  he  laughed.
They  had  been  simply  talking,  and  Gojou  had  said  the  most  outrageously  cheesy  thing  Kento  had  heard  in  a  while    ;    which  in  turn  had  the  blond  laughing  freely  ━━━━━━  something  he  wouldn't  have  allowed  himself  to  do  in  the  past,  and  would  try  to  stop  it  if  he  had  not  been  within  the  safety  of  his  own  apartment.  The  older  sorcerer's  words  made  Kento  blush,  eyes  closed  now  opening  to  gaze  upon  the  impressive  beauty  that  was  Gojou  Satoru  in  an  environment  that  he  did  not  have  to  be  "the  strongest  sorcerer  in  the  world",  in  an  environment  where  he  could  simply  be  Satoru.  ❛        Satoru,        ❜    Kento  sighed,  biting  his  lip  as  his  green  and  golden  eyes  looked  into  Satoru's  sky  blue  ones  ━━━━━━  he  was  happy,  happier  than  he  had  been  in  a  great  while.  And  all  because  of  the  ridiculous  man  in  front  of  him  ━━━━━━  this  ridiculous,  loving,  incredible  man.  ❛        I  do  not  know  how  can  you  say  those  things  with  a  straight  face,  but...        ❜
Kento  wasn't  often  bold,  he  loved  deeply  and  those  who  knew  him  knew  that  he  was  soft  ━━━━━━  but  Jujutsu  sorcery  had  taught  him  to  block  these  aspects  of  himself,  and  now  it  was  hard  to  let  them  free    ;    to  freely  express  his  love.  Still,  he  figured  he  could  let  himself  admit  something  he  had  been  keeping  for  a  while.  ❛        I  love  you  too,  Satoru.  And  do  not  worry,  I  will  make  sure  to  reserve  my  laughter  just  for  you,  then.      ❜
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iconicmnl · 2 hours ago
Fun new ways to celebrate another at-home Mother’s Day
Fun new ways to celebrate another at-home Mother’s Day
Haven’t decided on what to do this Mother’s Day? That’s okay. With all the restrictions in place, you’re bound to run out of ways to celebrate special occasions in the safety of your home. A movie marathon in your home theater? Been there. Bake chocolate chip cookies? Done that. But don’t lose hope. Here are three new things you can do that will be fun for both you and your kids. Bonus: they’ll…
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thecorcoranconnection · 2 hours ago
3152 Dark Sky Dr Harmony FL 34773 | Call 1-844-Corcoran
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opulencewanted · 2 hours ago
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leyla demir…forty-three…witch…[utp]
[ “quote utp” ]
Hastalik’s mother. When Hastalik was a child, and as he grew, he was told his Mother died when he was born, but actually she fled the cult like male coven Hastalik was born into, as well as her own coven that had given her up to them. On the run she had another child, not intending to risk either of their lives she went into hiding but couldn’t keep away from her son. So Leyla worked out a way for herself and her daughter to communicate with Hastalik when he reached out to the deities his coven believed in. Leyla was able to influence her son, to have some say in the moralities he was brought up with. Eventually to the point where he ran from his coven too. Since he is now in Opulence, away from his father and their coven, she had made herself known cautiously, but having missed her son and enjoyed motherhood cannot stay away any longer.
this wanted skeleton character is…open
they are connected to @hastalikhunts.
suggested fcs include: nesrin cavadzade, esra bilgiç, neslihan atagül doğulu, utp.
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snzhnfall · 2 hours ago
let me rant for a little bit. 
sb: why don’t you just leave snezhnaya if it’s that bad? why do you miss it? don’t you want to move to a place like liyue or mondstadt? 
snezhnayans: family, connections, society, security, the outside world is being dicks to us so what’s better? knowing your home, your homeland, and your people where you have to survive sure but everything you love is there so you know how to live there and you know how to be safe... or go into the unknown where you don’t know how you’ll survive, how you’ll be met, know that it’ll take eternity to build up and you can’t even be sure you’ll be able to protect your family if you actually move out and do they even want to move if they’ve been there for years and years?
Basically, yeah. 
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solaeria · 2 hours ago
  .     ❛    @asaraltu​   ━━━━  cont​  .   here
𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝚆𝙰𝚂  𝙽𝙾𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃  𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴  𝙷𝙴  𝙷𝙰𝙳  come  to  her  aid  ━━━━━━  once,  right  after  Itachi's  birth,  she  had  had  an  argument  with  Fugaku    ;    both  still  navigating  the  newlywed  and  recent  parent  lifestyle,  one  that  had  them  screaming  at  each  other  and  she  had  ran  ━━━━━━  baby  in  her  arms,  and  ran  to  a  place  she  found  solace  in    ;    a  hidden  part  of  the  village,  under  Orochimaru's  ownership,  holding  her  baby  she  had  cried  and  for  once  in  a  very  long  time,  allowed  herself  to  feel  like  a  young  woman  again    ;    she  had  been  only  twenty-one.  That  was  when  the  man  approached  her,  mask  covering  his  face,  deep  voice  asking  her  what  made  her  cry  ━━━━━━  she  had  been  scared  of  him  at  first,  motherly  instincts  telling  her  that  she  should  suspect  any  stranger  that  approached  her  when  she  was  with  her  son    ;    and  yet,  something  deeper,  something  Mikoto  could  barely  recall  spoke  of  familiarity...she...she  knew  him?
He  had  helped  her  then,  and  he  promised  to  help  her  now  though  Mikoto  didn't  think  he  understood  her  request  ━━━━━━  reluctantly,  with  the  stiffness  of  someone  that  had  been  forced  to  grow  up  too  soon,  Mikoto  allowed  him  to  pull  her  into  a  hug,  and  promptly  melted  against  his  frame    ;    black  eyes  tearing  up  as  the  way  he  ran  his  fingers  through  her  hair  reminded  her  of  her  mother.  She  clung  to  him,  letting  her  frame  shake  in  fear  for  her  clan,  her  family  ━━━━━━  her  children.  
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❛        Is  it  really  justice  we  are  after...?        ❜    she  asked,  voice  so  small,  so  foreign  to  her    ;    Mikoto  Uchiha  was  practically  royalty,  she  had  been  raised  to  hold  her  head  high,  to  speak  loudly  and  clearly  in  the  face  of  anyone  who  tried  to  subjugate  her,  even  so,  here  in  the  presence  of  the  masked  man  ━━━━━━━━  the  masked  man  who  felt  like  family  to  her,  that  knew  how  to  soothe  her  in  the  same  way  her  mother  had  done,  who  called  her  'Miko-chan'  like  he  had  known  it  was  a  childhood  nickname  ━━━━━━━━  here,  she  allowed  herself  to  be  scared  and  vulnerable.  ❛        What  justice  will  come  out  of  it?  If  we  keep  pressing  the  Hokage  I  feel  like...something  horrible  is  going  to  happen.        ❜
Slowly,  Mikoto  pulled  away  from  him  unaware  that  in  her  distress,  her  sharingan  had  activated  ━━━━━━  no  longer  the  innocent  three  tomoe  she  had  sported  as  a  young  girl,  but  now  a  mangekyo,  more  black  than  red    ;    unique  they  had  said,  reminiscent  of  the  great  eyes  of  their  ancestors.  ❛        Sometimes  I  wonder  what  my  grandfather  would  do  in  this  situation.  Mother  used  to  say  he  was  the  best  leader  we  ever  had,  would  he  be  dissapointed  in  us?  In  me?        ❜
Would  her  grandfater  hate  her  for  the  thoughts  of  fleeing?  Of  taking  her  children  and  running  away  ━━━━━━━━  as  far  away  as  she  could  get  from  Konoha.  Surely  he  would,  though  Mikoto  couldn't  really  see  another  way  of  saving  her  boys    ;    her  babies  who  were  still  so  young  and  yet,  the  path  before  them  was  gruesome  and  bloody.  ❛        I  don't  want  Itachi  nor  Sasuke  to  awaken  these  eyes,          ❜  she  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes,  showing  him  the  eyes  she  had  inherited  from  her  great-uncle.    ❛        I  don't  want  them  to  suffer  through  this  coup.  But  how?  How  do  I  help  my  clan  survive  this?          ❜
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hiphopnewssources · 3 hours ago
New video - Ask Me Anything with Chris Do | Adobe Creative Cloud on @YouTube
New video – Ask Me Anything with Chris Do | Adobe Creative Cloud on @YouTube
Via Adobe Creative Cloud We sat down with Chris Do, Founder and CEO of The Futur for an Ask Me Anything session for our student community. In this AMA, learn more about Chris and how he built his educational empire with a mission to teach one billion people how to make a living, doing what they love. About Chris Do: Chris Do is an Emmy award-winning designer, director, CEO and Chief Strategist…
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snowyhunter · 3 hours ago
Me @ me when I realize that in order to read the fic I want to write I have to actually write it
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