Tell Lies and Talk Shit
Tom Hiddleston fans.
PLUG YOUR HEADPHONES BEFORE LISTENING!
Words: I will be the first man to kiss you. To bed you. Whether you come willingly or not, you will be mine, and mine alone. Do you understand?
(via slashluvr)
There once was a young boy with a very bad temper. The boy’s father wanted to teach him a lesson, so he gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper he must hammer a nail into their wooden fence.
On the first day of this lesson, the little boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. He was really mad!
Over the course of the next few weeks, the little boy began to control his temper, so the number of nails that were hammered into the fence dramatically decreased.
It wasn’t long before the little boy discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.
Then, the day finally came when the little boy didn’t lose his temper even once, and he became so proud of himself, he couldn’t wait to tell his father.
Pleased, his father suggested that he now pull out one nail for each day that he could hold his temper.
Several weeks went by and the day finally came when the young boy was able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.
Very gently, the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.
“You have done very well, my son,” he smiled, “but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same.”
The little boy listened carefully as his father continued to speak.
“When you say things in anger, they leave permanent scars just like these. And no matter how many times you say you’re sorry, the wounds will still be there.”
(via iearoh)
So lately I was having those crazy Dark!Erebor AU plot-bunnies. Like, what if Thorin died in BoFA and Bilbo has instantly gone completely bonkers with grief, to the point that he actually summoned something REALLY BAD with his ring and force of will. Thorin is resurrected but it’s not a happy miracle but an act of Necromagic, so the dwarf king isn’t the same person he was before. Same goes for Bilbo who literally sold his soul to bring the dwarf from the dead and the price he must pay is to continue living as a vessel for the Dark Power he evoked. That evil thing is cunning to act discreet enough so nobody notices the difference at first. Thorin is crowned as a King of Erebor and though he manages to revive the kingdom to its former glory, his policy borders on cruel and downright despotic. And not one of his brutal decisions made without the knowledge and lead of the Halfling who follows Thorin like a vicious shadow and instigates him to rule with an iron fist and violently punish everyone who goes against his will.
I’d imagine Thorin chopping heads off while Bilbo, the sneaky fucker, cuts some bitches in dark corners when the insurgent dwarves keep attempting to kill them both or sabotage their ruling.
So, like, Erebor becomes a base of Mordor and biggest threat to whole Middlearth.
lol, i guess i’ll just take my pills and go to sleep K BYEI have not seen anything as perfectly dark as this in quite a long, long while. Possibly ever. My good lord.
I need this more than food
(via slashluvr)
in retrospect, that was a bad idea: grade school sex-education
subtitle: what I wish I told my sister before middle school
—
you will get your period one day,
and you will not feel like a woman.
you will feel like your body has betrayedevery promise it ever curled around
your little finger. this is normal.
you will get…
CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO ADD A NEW PAGE TO MY BLOG AND ACTUALLY ADD STUFF TO THAT PAGE BECAUSE I’VE BEEN AT IT FOR AN HOUR AND I’VE MADE NO PROGRESS AND I SHOULD NOT BE THIS FUCKING OBLIVIOUS AT MY AGE SO PLEASE HELP?
I’m okay (no, really, I am).
So, someone felt the need to tell that my ex-fiance is now “messing around” with the woman I assumed he had feelings for from the start of our relationship. I know it’s silly and petty for me to be upset over that—it’s been almost a year since things ended and looking back, I realize he wasn’t a great catch anyhow. When things ended between us, my life actually got back on track and things started improving for me. Even now, things are slowly, but surely getting back into place. I’m doing well in school, I’ve started writing again and taking better care of myself.
I have none of the stress that comes from dealing with an individual who will find any reason not to work, is too much of a mama’s boy to realize he’s a man and it’s time to take on some responsibility, and has no ambition or goals aside from getting an new Xbox subscription. I’m happier, healthier, and getting better each day.
So why am I suddenly upset?
I finally got the audio of this talk on fanfic cleaned up enough to hear; here are the introduction and conclusion, a tiny bit of manifesto on fanfic and fandom. Also an experiment in how many times I can say “bullshit” in class.
If you listen to the whole talk, please keep in mind that:
This was not a formal lecture, but an impromptu thing for my partner’s class on science fiction film. (He was putting things on screen over my head that I couldn’t see; you’ll hear me refer to those from time to time. For instance, the first moment is me reacting to that pic of cosplayers isaisanisa and caffeinatedqueer, above.)
I was working without notes or an outline, because as I said it was just a informal talk.
They were supposed to have read the essay “Normal Female Interest in Men Bonking,” but many of them hadn’t.
I was coming out as a slash writer in front of fifty people and I was nervous.
This meant that at points I glossed over things roughly and got details wrong. The ones that stick out: the origin of slashfic (I was taken aback to be asked what slash was); an anecdote about anarmydoctor and Martin Freeman (Warren asked about it out of the blue, and I don’t think I got the details right); a quick definition of “cisgendered” that’s not very precise; and a side note about men in fandom that implied “all men” instead of “het men.” (There were three defensive het men in there that had me on my guard a bit, and you may be able to hear that at points.)
That said, I’m open to corrections and suggestions in case I get to do a more formal version of this in the future.
Okay, so. There you go. Eeeeek.
“An Introduction to Fanfiction and Fandom” at Mediafire.
(via teaandsolitude)
thisherlockspeare:
An ordinary day of 221B Baker Street
I really love that they have breakfast together. I just do, I love that. I like the scene it suggests, and the many other scenes it’s clearly built upon. There’s a familiarity about it all; they’ve done this before. They do this all the time. They have a routine of sorts. This is their life. It’s good.
John gets up, takes a shower, gets dressed: Sherlock doesn’t bother. He just pulls on his dressing gown and sits down to eat.
Does John wake up first?
Everything suggests that he does; he’s the one who’s dressed. Not that that’s the most definitive evidence in the world. Sometimes, we know, Sherlock doesn’t appear to bother getting dressed all day. In canon, Watson notes Holmes’ typical late mornings. And John, on the other hand, has probably spent most of his adult life in the military; a life full of early mornings. That’s a tough habit to break. Can I make a presumption, then? (This is fiction, not science, after all. I don’t need water-tight evidence to form an opinion and run off on a tangent. Obviously.) That’s it, settled: John wakes up first. Most of the time, surely.
Does John wake Sherlock for breakfast? Or does he move as quietly as he can through the morning, putting the kettle on, picking up the paper, peering into the fridge, waiting to hear a familiar huff and grumble from Sherlock’s bedroom? Any moment now. Any moment. Look at John: he’s happy. He likes his breakfasts with Sherlock. So he waits for it: any moment now, Sherlock will wake up and join him. He doesn’t ask for company; he just gets it.
Does Sherlock wake up when John puts the kettle on? Does he wake up to the sound of John pulling plates down from a cupboard, or running water into the sink? Or is it when John’s in the shower that he wakes up, to the sound of water running, the sound of it hitting John’s skin, then drifts off into a half-sleep again until he hears the kettle boil?
In any case, Sherlock gets up. Eventually. Before his breakfast is cold. Just in time, probably.
He rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He yawns. he doesn’t bother to do up his dressing gown. John probably says, “Good morning,” or something like it. A dig about the evening before, a complaint about an experiment, or too much noise in the night, or a question about a case. Do they pick up a conversation where they left off? Something half-finished from the evening before? Or new things, random things, the things you say in the morning. “I dreamed I was on boat.” I can’t imagine Sherlock would be that interested in hearing about dreams, or relating them. But you start conversations like that in the morning, just because. It’s the familiarity. “We were going in circles, and no one noticed.” Nothing that requires a comment. Just things you say.
And they have breakfast, drink coffee, read the paper. They probably chat about the headlines. It’s an ordinary day. Nothing remarkable. It’s moments before the next thing happens.
This is probably as happy as either of these men will ever be.
