#Funny Mothers Day Wishes 2019

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil!

I don't want to sound like a killjoy, but I'm concerned about David Tennant's family being involved in the second season of Good Omens (or Michael Sheen's partner Anna Lundberg in a future season three). I absolutely have nothing against them, I loved Staged just like everyone else, but this is exactly the matter for me: casting them in the series would automatically make me think about Staged or something else while I'm watching GO, and it would distract me from the plot and the magic of it. It would feel somehow like a family reunion, no matter how talented they are as actors (not to mention that there would be nepotism accusations, above all against David. I hope this won't affect the popularity rating, since season three is still hypothetical). I'm not the only one who thinks this might be an issue, from what I read on blogs here on Tumblr (and on the Internet in general) but I feel like there's a sort of tension, like people are scared to say it out loud, because some fans get the wrong idea and accuse them of hating Georgia or Anna or Ty (and that's why I'm asking this anonymously, I don't want to start a fight). I hope you get what I'm saying, it only felt fair to me to let you know whatever concerns some fans might have, and maybe even give you a perspective you weren't considering? Of course you have the last word on this, and if you think this is not a big deal, I trust your judgement.

I wish you a fantastic day! (And sorry for my English, I'm not native, I tried my best!)

Yeah. So, I find that a little creepy, not very creepy, but definitely a bit.

I thought we were lucky to get Peter Davison in Good Omens 2. (He didn't audition. We offered him the part, as I've been a fan of his since 1978, and All Creatures Great and Small. He crushes it, and is heartbreaking, funny, and still somehow the moral compass of the episode he's in.) Ty Tennant auditioned, along with a number of other actors, and got the part because he did it best. (I didn't know who his family was when we cast him. I just liked the audition tape.)

If you're hunting down family connections, David's mother-in-law, Ty's grandmother, Sandra Dickinson, is in the Audible Sandman, too, as one of the Three Witches/Fates/Eumenides etc. And she was cast in it two years before David Tennant (although probably around the same time Michael Sheen was asked to be Lucifer). (I've been a fan of Sandra's since she was Trillian in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in 1981.)

Anyway, I'm sorry you're worried about Peter and Ty's performances, although I promise you have nothing to worry about, and I'm sorry that you worry that our possibly casting Georgia and Anna in a hypothetical and not-yet actually a real thing Season 3 might make people think of Staged and make them not able to enjoy Good Omens any longer. (Had I known people were this easily shaken I wouldn't have appeared in Staged either, in case my name at the front of Good Omens shattered the fragile illusion and revealed to people that the David Tennant and Michael Sheen who play Crowley and Aziraphale are actors.)

Starting in 2017 I was the recipient of mind-mangling quantities of Tumblr abuse for casting David Tennant and Michael Sheen as Aziraphale and Crowley, which was, many people made very clear to me, the worst casting in the whole entire utter history of casting, and something that Good Omens would never recover from, because for a start neither of them looked like the versions in people's heads, and I'd also miscast them badly because everyone knew that if you had to cast Sheen and Tennant, Michael had to play Crowley and David had to put on some weight and play Aziraphale. (It wasn't until May 2019 that people stopped grumbling.) So people worrying I'm going to cast Anna and Georgia in a season that hasn't even been commissioned in parts that haven't been written just makes me smile.

I hope this helps.

[grapejuicestyless]

The Tide Always Goes Out

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

ANGST

Summery: You were sick. You had always been sick. But you looked so healthy, so it couldn’t be true. Conrad could live in denial of his best friend’s inevitable death but there was nothing he could do to stop it and he has to accept it.(Inspired by the book Little Women specifically the scene in the 2019 film between Beth and Jo.) Mentions of illness and death.

We sat on the beach squished on a small blanket. wrinkles from our shifting and creases beneath us from where we sit. We talk about everything and anything all morning. Not minding the grey overcast of the clouds covering the usually very blue sky. Or how the waves are more violent than they usually are. I know this because I remember it vividly. It wasn’t that long ago I was really there. Making sure it would last forever. Only now I wish I hadn’t because it haunts me more than it comforts me. And the entire way it played out still makes my heart ache with regret.

Somehow I end up with her lying over me. She lays her head in my lap, the thin blanket woven together with faint reds and oranges creating a little hammock for her to rest on. I can feel the way her heartbeats erratically over my thigh. The way her lip’s curl into a soft smile. The ocean reflected in her eyes. If it weren’t for the heavy eye bags and the slight tremble in her bones, she’d be normal. A normal girl with no issues. You wouldn’t even know how deeply her suffering ran. Sometimes, on the better days, I let myself become fooled as well. Playing dumb hurts less than facing the truth.

“Con.” Her eyes flick up to mine, and I can’t help the way my own avert her gaze. I am too afraid to face her. Even now. The girl who I worship day and night. I never did pray before her, but now I pray that when I wake up, she’ll still be beside me. And we can enjoy the company the other has to offer just one last time. I can’t look down and see how much she’s changed. It scares me, because the traces of the illness torturing her is evidence to how real it is. And I would rather live in oblivious bliss.

“I want you to know I’m not really scared anymore.” It’s not what I expected to come from her lips, but it’s what she lands on. Theres no room in her wording for me to deny what she’s trying to say. My eyes flick down to hers, and my hands moves the hair blowing in the wind messily across her face.

“Y/n, come on. Don’t say shit like that.” I smile, but I don’t really mean in. I don’t find her words funny, and I don’t like that my best friend is sick.

“No, Conrad. I’m serious.” She breathes out, hands pressing against my skin to lift herself up. I feel a chill run through my body without her warmth to ease the morning chill. More than that, I can feel the coolness in my heart when she separates from me, and I long for the next moment I’ll feel her gentle touch.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and I’m certain that I’ll be okay.” I continue to look at her, but only this time, she is the one looking at the sand, tracing her fingers in it as they stretch past her ankles to the floor.

“And I’m only so sure because I know you’ll be there.” Her eyes flicker up to the sky and I swear I see the sky brighten for just a moment. The blue underneath all the grey breaking free for a split second. “I’ve known you my whole life, and I’ve felt things for you that I have felt with no one else. I know you, and I trust that you’ll come find me in the next life.” Pulling at her lip, she waits for a response.

“But I want to keep you in this one.” My hand finds hers and all I can do is squeeze onto her desperately. Wanting nothing more but to keep her close. So I can watch her. Make sure shes okay. She’s lost all of her fight, her will to stay. And I know it’s because of the pain. I’ve heard her sobs just down the halls and the hushed whispers of my mother and her’s. But part of me wonders if it’s simply because I did not do enough. If I wasn’t enough reason for her to stay.

“It’s like the tide going out. It goes out slowly, but it can’t be stopped.” And we both know it. Theres no stopping what will happen to her. Theres no wish or medicine or fight that could keep her here beside me. It makes me want to cry, but I don’t. It would be selfish of me to get so upset when I am still here. Well and alive. Promised many years to age and achieve things she never was given the chance to.

“I’ll stop it.” I don’t look down at her, but I can feel how she shifts. The way her frown only deepens and the bags in her eyes get heavier. She sighs heavily into the silence, shaking her head slowly. She refuses to cry though. Partly because I know she knows she’ll have plenty of time to cry in the darkness of her room, when the ache in her bones is too much and theres no way of stopping it. And the other part of me recognizes that it’s because there’s no reason to in her eyes.

Y/n knew it better than all of us. She had lived a good life. She could do things and want things some children could never even dream of. She had a warm home with a glowing fireplace that her family often gathered around. A loving sister and a great brother. Her mother and father were healthy and she had the best friends she could have ever asked for. Her only regret is that she had to make her own mother pick out the details for her headstone.

When I pull her into my body, I have no idea it will be for the last time. I have no clue that her sobs won’t part from her lips. Because when she closes her eyes, she doesn’t drift into her usual place of rest. Her eyes don’t flutter open at the soft creak of the stairs when Jeremiah decides he wants a late night snack. Nor does she stir when Steven laughs, following behind him not as skillfully.

Not even when her mother screams early in the morning, hands clinging to her limp wrists, cold and lifeless. The tears from my mother mixing with her younger sisters don’t even make her flinch. And it’s chilling because it almost looks like she was smiling. The lift of her lips is barely there, but it makes me feel better knowing she went in peace.

I remember that day more clearly than ever. How the grey sky haunts me and the way she spoke so surely about her death still sends chills through my veins. I could have only wished to have looked at her a little closer that day. So that even in her darkest moments, I could be as certain as she was that the image of her would never fade, and I would always be able to memorize each wrinkle in her skin.

So I tell myself that when it’s my time, I’ll do what she said I would. I’ll find her in the next life. And I’ll look a little harder at her, and I’ll admire her for longer.

[blackoutspoetry]

CROSSROADS

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND

March 29, 2019

In a gentler reimagining of his life, John MacTavish might have had better prospects at the age of twenty-five.

If life had seen it fit, he would have stayed true to his faith, married a good woman and settled down somewhere in the Scottish highlands, not far from his parents. Not far from his roots.

He had the desire for it, really. He tried everything in his power to fit that mould. Before he’d even properly grown, he’d looked himself over and painstakingly cut away the parts of him that did not belong to that good catholic boy his mother raised, stitched on parts artificially outsourced that fit better.

He spent years curating the idea of John MacTavish. Close cropped hair, bright smile, perfect teeth. Always faithful, never curses, the good boy his mother raised him to be.

He’s not stupid, though. The body can be edited. Things cut off, sloppily sewn on, perfect teeth painted in place of those crooked ones he’d needed braces for, but the mind can’t be fooled into forgetting its own reflection.

He can paint himself in whichever light he wants, but he’s learned that some men are born with an intrinsic deficiency in their bones, a sickness.

So he honours that sickness, instead of plugging the rotting holes in his bones with cigarette butts and folded receipts, he lined his ribs with dynamite.

He rigged himself to blow the day he signed his name away, fresh faced, sixteen, already much too cocky for his own good. A bit spry, too much of a livewire for his COs.

Exactly the way they want a boy to be before they train him into obedience like a dog.

He didn’t mind that training. He’s gone through enough sculpting as a teenager to make him into the perfect blank slate to impose a soldier’s death wish onto, and once he’d managed to get into basic, he knew it was time to cut and carve those undefined muscles into the sculpted body of a strong man. A man who would make more of a difference in life than poster boy, skew teeth, watered down Scots MacTavish.

He’d always been a half assed, bastardised version of the boy he was raised to be, so maybe he could excel at being something else of his own choosing, if he willingly let himself over to the system and handed them the knife to take and stitch on as they pleased.

He abandoned all measure of value he used to have to his old life, but there’s still a lingering bit of that Catholic wisdom there, he still counts his blessings, he still prays for fallen friends.

On his mother’s insistence, he carries a small metal cross on a ball chain necklace, similar to the one of his dog tags, though this one had been around longer than the latter. He’d worn it since the day he signed those papers at sixteen, a small consolation to his distraught mother that could do nothing but watch as he turned himself into a pawn in a much larger, scarier game than she would ever be able to comprehend.

At first, he hated the way it itched against his skin, odd angles pressing in and leaving sunken reliefs in his chest when he slept at night, waking to a warning red mark pressed into his skin in that familiar cross shape. He hated the way it felt under his shirt, but he learned to love it as time went on, learned to stop seeing it as a tether to a past life after a while, and more of a reminder that there was something more than warfare out there for him, that there was something somewhere to come home to, for all it was worth.

He’d lost his religion as a teenager, but those first few years, all the lives he’d taken and the friends he’d lost on the way pushed him to find solace somewhere.

It's funny, really, how easy it is to hate something that once was a staple food of your childhood, how easy it is to shy away from what had seen you through your formative years. He’d abandoned it that day, with paper and cheap ballpoint pen and determination in hand, used the abandonment of it to draw a clear line in the sand to mark off where his youth ended and his adulthood began.

But then the dramatic irony lies in the journey back to the table, when the body has dissolved the muscle and destroyed itself in that fasting period. Because no matter how far you stray from your roots, the mouth is forever bound to the sweetness of that meal served in childhood, no matter how nauseating it had been in those days.

It finds comfort in the familiarity, and the taste once despised becomes closure, in famine, through hardship.

So even when he’s no longer willing to go on, he keeps that chain on, letting that cross sit next to his dog tags because he’s become accustomed to the comfort it brings him. His old life cast in metal, and his new life beside it, pressed into it in name, in rank, in blood type.

It is like this, with the weight those two chains carried leaning as a palpable feeling over his heart, that he has to make a decision.

He and a man he thought he might never see again, were seated in a booth at a small, packed coffee shop in the heart of Glasgow.

There are more papers on the table now and he scans them through once more, a second time, a third and waits for the waitress to serve them their coffee before he asks the man across from him a question that might have seemed redundant, but served a very specific purpose in his mind.

He made somewhat of a promise to his mother the last time he’d seen her, that he would avoid playing hero and running into fire when it could be avoided, and Captain John Price, the man that had arranged for them to meet here after years of not speaking, was asking him to do exactly that.

“This Makarov guy, he’s dangerous?”

Price chuckled a bit as he stirred sugar into his coffee.

“He’s dangerous, alright.”

“And no one else can do this?”

Price shook his head with a solemn no, but there must have been someone up for the challenge, someone that didn’t chain themselves too much to a past that no longer suited their lifestyle.

“There’s a few that might be up for the challenge, but it's been years and I haven’t seen a single soul be able to do what you do. They don’t call you Soap for nothing.”

That was perhaps only a partial truth, because Soap is sure he’s not the only sorry soul Price has ever had the privilege to see go to hell and back without crumbling under the pressure. But there was a reason for it, though, the name. That might be exactly why Price had come to him and not anyone else, though.

He knows how he is, he trusts Soap, and the fact that he needs someone reliable, that he knows will be able to do the job, tells him all he needs to know.

Price was eliminating margins of error and he needed someone he knows for certain won’t screw it up.

He’s not going to pretend that the implication doesn’t knock his ego up a notch, but he won’t say it out loud.

Still, he’s hesitant. If the man’s actually as dangerous as Price is insinuating, he’ll be breaking that promise, and if there was one thing he valued well over government orders, it was loyalty to his family, no matter how distant they were from each other.

“I’ll need a bit to think about it.”

“Well, you better make that decision fast, because the situation’s much more time sensitive than it looks on paper. If Makarov manages to achieve what we suspect he’s planning, we could be looking at a world scale disaster.”

“Shit,” Soap murmured, looking down at the dark swirl of his coffee and finding his own clueless reflection looking back at him. He needs to do this job, just this once, and then he can go back to honouring his mother’s wishes by trying not to get himself killed too eagerly.

As if that’ll hold up that long in this line of work anyway, but he supposes agreeing to it and sticking with it for as long as possible puts her mind to rest more than leaving it in fate’s hands.

Instead of looking at his unsure expression longer than he needs to, he dumps milk and sugar in and begins to drink it, despite how hot it is. He just needs an excuse not to make that decision this very second.

“Do you have anyone else in mind for the job that would be going in with us?”

It's a filler question, he knows this and he’s sure Price does too, but Price humours him with a proper answer.

“I have. Now, the information about this situation’s controlled to a tight circle, one that you are now a part of,” Price begins, he checks over his shoulder and around the space of the coffee shop to see if anyone might be listening in, but the mingling of the voices and the retro eighties track they’ve got playing on the speaker puts his mind at ease that no one is listening in at this hour of the morning.

Soap looked out the steamed window and onto the windswept street outside, raised his coffee to his mouth again.

“So far I’ve got two people on this. Unless you agree to this, I can’t divulge any names, but I’ve got someone overseeing the operation and another guy that goes way back with me, a lieutenant I trust with my life,” he goes on to explain in somewhat of a hushed tone.

Soap felt something in his chest tighten. Something about this felt off. Call it intuition or his sixth sense, or even divine intervention, something about this situation made it seem like this choice would have far more impact on the rest of his life than Price was making it sound like.

He owed his life to Price and in a past that wasn't quite as distant as he wanted it to be, he'd have jumped at this opportunity in a heartbeat, but he's stuck between two worlds now.

What he says here now would carry just as much weight and be just as legally binding as those papers he signed at sixteen.

But as the thought occurs to him, Price adds in a dire tone, “listen here, Soap. This guy, Makarov, he’s a snake.”

Soap looked down at the file again, the photo pinned to it. There’s a recognisable darkness in the man’s eyes, like he’s hollowed himself out to be a vessel for violence and it seems to seep from every pore in his body in a metaphysical way. On a surface level, he was underwhelming, but he knows that look when he sees it.

It's the same look he worries he’ll find one day in the mirror and it sends a chill down his back.

“He keeps himself hidden, but if you do enough digging you’ll find him tangled up with almost every single international shitshow that I’ve been working on over the past five years, some of them you've been a part of. He gets other people to do his dirty work for him, finances, executions, minor scale attacks on things that seem inconsequential, but there’s a pattern. He calculates everything to the fucking T. So I need you to know I wouldn’t be asking this of you unless I really needed to, and I am not sure I know anyone else who would be able to pull this off.”

Soap gritted his teeth and locked eyes with Makarov on the paper, looking up at Price.

"You're not giving me much of a choice here, sir."

"Course I am. You can choose to do this and save the life of countless innocent people, or, you can decide not to, and run the risk of this very moment being responsible for a child's entry into the foster system, the choice is yours."

Soap gritted his teeth, hand coming unconsciously to clutch at one of the two chains around his neck at a terrible attempt at grounding himself. He doesn't know which one it is when he says, "fine. I'm in."

Price gives a self assured little smile, tips his head in Soap's direction before taking a sip of his coffee like he's just landed himself a good deal. Soap doesn't know whether to be offended or impressed with himself at the idea that Price considered his compliance a win.

One again, he looks down at the papers on the table, frowning at the text, though his mind is reeling too much to really take any of it in.

"Just for the record, how off the books is this little charade really?"

"What made that idea come to mind?" Price asks, intonation flat, but still as though he expects what Soap is about to say.

Soap swept a hand to gesture at the space around them, all the way from the olive green back wall their booth was propped up against, across where the kitchen was behind a closed wooden door, the counter with the pastries in the glass cases and the empty tables by the windows. Even now, they're seated in a position where the security cameras wouldn't be able to properly pick out what they're looking at and they're far enough from the barista that she wouldn't be able to hear them either.

"Just have a feeling that discussing a high stakes op at the asscrack of dawn in a coffee shop with a man who's supposed to be on leave isn't exactly the proper way to go about things."

Price grimaced with a little bit of a shrug.

"Wouldn't say it's off the script, but if we're talking about records, I'd say half the things we discussed here won't end up in the mission report. So we're playing by all the rules, but we keep it off the table for anyone else to see. Never know if Makarov's got a songbird among our men."

This piqued Soap's interest. "You're worried about a spy?"

"He's Russian."

"Aye, that's a stereotype, sir." Soap raised an eyebrow as he down the rest of his coffee like an espresso shot. It doesn't have the kick he needs from it in order to settle the nerves in his stomach.

"Stereotypes are somewhat rooted in truth, sergeant."

"So when is this thing actually happening?"

"The 6th."

Soap's eyes widened. "That's almost a week from now. I'm still on leave until the fifteenth."

"Well you better make a plan to explain to your mother why you're heading back so soon."

Damn it. The chain itches against his neck.

"Alright then. Now that I'm on this, who else is in on it?"

Price lowered his voice. "As you expect, I'm not the top of the food chain here. If I'm going to be really honest with you, I'm only here to speak to you specifically because General Shepherd trusts my judgement."

"Shepherd?" Soap raised an eyebrow. "And your other man?"

Price looked a bit uneasy. "We go way back, I'm sure you've heard of him. Simon Riley?"

Soap shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell, sir."

"Well then, perhaps you'll know him as Ghost."

You can find it on ao3 here:

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork and June Millington (one of the founders of the rock group Fanny), 2012.

Janis Ian and June Millington on Peter...

“In mourning for Peter Tork, one of the kindest people I’ve ever known, who was so gracious and so good to me when I was starting out. It’s testimony to the man that his family asks donations to be made to Institute for the Musical Arts, founded by June Millington and Ann Hackler to support women and girls in music. Lovely man, and a sad day to know he’s gone.” - Janis Ian, Facebook, February 22, 2019

“Thank you Peter Tork and family for your incredibly powerful gesture in suggesting that people make a donation to IMA’s ‘In the Names of Our Mothers’ fund, in support women and girls in music. Especially in these times, so meaningful ~ you will be remembered here for generations! Thing is, you’ve been such a good friend to me (us) over the years, and continue to give. That is a true testament to your soul, and your spirit. Love you always, xx June” - June Millington, Facebook, February 23, 2019

“I met him [Peter] here in Massachusetts through our really great friend Leah Kunkel. […] And they were really good friends since Peter and John Sebastian and Leah, Mama Cass… were in the Village […] And Peter did a benefit for us once […], for IMA. […] And he did record here as well. […] Peter was here a few months before he died, he came to actually record that last song that he put out with The Monkees [‘Angels We Have Heard On High,’ from Christmas Party; the instrumental track, featuring Peter on banjo, was originally from A Beachwood Christmas, 2003]. […] I wish I could have recorded him for my podcast because he told me a few stories which I love so much. [...] He played a great piano, which I didn’t know until the last time he was here. He swung by the piano and he — even though he was sick and he didn’t have much energy — he sat down and he played some brilliant classical piece. I’m like, ‘Peter, I didn’t know you played the piano!’ And he said, ‘Oh. Yeah.’ And I said, ‘How did that come about?’ He said, ‘Oh, I took lessons.’ So his parents definitely wanted him to be, shall we say, cultured, and have… you know, to play piano, the have a college degree and all of that. […] He was such a smart guy, he was so funny, he was so funny, he would be quipping all the time, you know. And it was, the last couple of years were a little bit of a slog for him because the cancer was coming back and it was really trying to get him. But he — he kept his humor intact the whole time. He was really a very generous, and he was a super-funny guy. That’s my biggest impression of him, is how giving he was. And he wanted to support IMA, the Institute for the Musical Arts, which is a nonprofit that supports women and girls in music by passing on what we know. So we do rock ‘n’ roll girls camp […], lessons — everything is being passed on to future generations. So it’s the only organization of its kind in the world where we are really hands on passing it on. And he just loved that. Like, he sent his daughter here — his wife had, you know, had a daughter, so they sent her here to one of our rock ‘n’ roll girl camps. So he put his money and his time where his mouth was, you know. […] So he was always trying to think of ways that he could help. He recorded here. You know, as I said, he was super-generous. He had a heart of gold, I gotta say. Super heart of gold. And he and Leah remained really good friends, really good friends until, you know, the last days. […] He was so smart. He was on top of current affairs, you know; he had so many jokes at the top of his fingers. […] He was a super-talented guy. […] Go to IMA dot org to take a look at this place. Peter realized the value. He loved passing it on. And he loved being around women and working with women, there’s no, you know (laughs), there’s no other way I could say it: he loved women. And he wanted to help, you know. And he let us know that, boy, he wanted to help and he did help.” - Plastic EP, 2021

[notstilinski]

A Cosmology of Monsters Starters !

Taken from the 2019 novel by Shaun Hamill, A Cosmology of Monsters! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!

“There is no such thing as happy endings. There are only good stopping places.”

“If we speed, I can have you home by ten thirty.”

“Just practice being in love and wait it out.”

“Who cares what they want? What do you want?”

“No, let’s do it. How often do I get a chance to live out a true-life nightmare?”

“My mother’s going to hate you.”

“They’re a good person. It’s not their fault they’re this way.”

“I’m not like them. I’m not sick that way.”

“It’s seen me. It has my scent.”

“(Name). It’s okay. Everything’s fine. You were just startled.”

“I love you until the end of time, and whatever comes after that.”

“Is that why you lost your mind and started screaming and hitting people?”

“I can make up whatever I want and you’ll build it?”

“Why don’t you love them anymore?”

“Nothing. I don’t want a single thing from you.”

“Why do you want me to die?”

“Don’t you /ever/ lay a hand on any of us again. Or I will kill you myself. Do you understand?”

“I had to break both their legs with a shovel so they’d stay put.”

“I’m having a rough day. Can you, this once, stop pressing my buttons and get on my team?”

“Don’t ever let me hear you talk about (Name) that way again.”

“Don’t blame them, it was my idea.”

“If I were a boy, I’d want to date you.”

“Look. Look what we did for you.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll even remember me next time.”

“I missed you so much. I was so worried.”

“You lucky, stupid motherfucker. They like you.”

“So this is the monster’s lair. I have to be honest, I’m a little disappointed.”

“You know, I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I wasn’t anymore.”

“I understand you’re worried about your friend, but trust me, it will be fine.”

“Your feelings were hurt so you went out and did something stupid.”

“I love you. And I would never hurt you.”

“What, and just abandon my whole life?”

“The voices don’t speak to me anymore. I’m doing my best to move on.”

“Did you see anything—/strange/ that night?”

“You don’t have to leave. We can spend time together and /not/ have sex?”

“You’ll be nice, right? You’re a nice person?”

“There’s a man born to be a dad.”

“They’re your friends, (Name). You don’t have to give me their resumes.”

“They gave me up to a stranger?”

“I am. And as your partner, I have a request.”

“It’s good to see you. Although the circumstances suck.”

“Everything is fine here. We are normal and happy, goddammit.”

“Why didn’t you want me to come home with you?”

“I wish I was brave like you.”

“It’s medicine. I know it smells funny, but you have to drink it all, okay?”

“And what about you? Who will make you forget?”

“The marriage. My family. Will they still be happy after tonight?”

“You son of a bitch. You motherfucker.”

“Life makes monsters of everyone, but it’s always possible to come back.”

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You

The Most Funniest & Sexiest Blonde Haired American Actress 👱‍♀️ In Cinema 🎥 Today

Born On February 10th,  1974

Banks was born and raised in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, the eldest of four children of Ann (née Wallace) and Mark P. Mitchell. Her father, a Vietnam War veteran, was a factory worker for General Electric, and her mother worked in a bank. She described her family as "very meat-and-potatoes, old-school Irish Catholic." Growing up, she played baseball and rode horses. She was in Little League when she broke her leg sliding into third base. She then tried out for the school play, which was her start in acting.

She is an American actress and filmmaker. She is known for playing chaperone Effie Trinket in The Hunger Games film series (2012–2015) and an ICCA commentator in the Pitch Perfect film series (2012–2017). She made her directorial film debut with Pitch Perfect 2 (2015), whose $69 million opening-weekend gross set a record for a first-time director. She has since directed the action comedy Charlie's Angels (2019) and the horror comedy film Cocaine Bear (2023). Banks founded the film and television production company Brownstone Productions in 2002 with her husband, Max Handelman.

Banks made her film debut in the low-budget independent film Surrender Dorothy (1998). She has appeared in the films Wet Hot American Summer (2001), Sam Raimi's Spider-Man trilogy (2002–2007), Seabiscuit (2003), The 40-Year-Old Virgin (2005), Slither (2006), Invincible (2006), Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008), Role Models (2008), The Next Three Days (2010), Man on a Ledge (2012), What to Expect When You're Expecting (2012), Movie 43 (2013), The Lego Movie (2014) and The Lego Movie 2 (2019), Love & Mercy (2014), Walk of Shame (2014), Magic Mike XXL (2015), Power Rangers (2017), Brightburn (2019), and Call Jane (2022).On television, Banks had a recurring role as Avery Jessup on the NBC sitcom 30 Rock (2010–2012), which earned her two Primetime Emmy Award nominations. She also had recurring roles on the comedy series Scrubs (2006–2009) and Modern Family (2009–2020), the latter of which earned her a third Primetime Emmy Award nomination. She starred in the Netflix miniseries Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp (2015) and Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later (2017). Since 2019, Banks has hosted the ABC revival of the game show Press Your Luck.

Please Wish This Recognizable Funny & Sexy Blonde Haired American Actress 👱‍♀️Of Cinema 🎥 A Very Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

YOU KNOW HER

SHE ALWAYS TICKLES YOUR FUNNY BONE 😆

& SHE IS STILL FINE AS AGED WINE 🍷

THE 1

& THE ONLY

MS. ELIZABETH IRENE MITCHELL AKA ELIZABETH BANKS 🏦 👱‍♀️❤

HAPPY 50TH BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 TO YOU MS. BANKS 🏦 & HERE'S TO MANY MORE YEARS TO COME

#ElizabethBanks #SpiderManTrilogy #30Rock #Scrubs #PitchPerfect #WalkOfShame #TheHungerGamesTrilogy #PowerRangers #CharliesAngels #Migration

[saevus-brutalis]

oc interview questions —

██-██ 2077 lead interviewer: [REDACTED] >> main video file corrupted [̲̅███_̲̅_̲̅] 30% partial reconstruction complete. wasn't tagged by anyone but it looked fun so 😌

Name?

V. [The interviewer leans forward, gesticulating for him to continue.] Just V.

Are you single? 

[He rises an eyebrow, clearly not amused. It seems like he was expecting that question.] Yes, but don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested.

Are you happy? 

Point me to someone that is. But no, can't say that I am.

Are you angry?

[Shrugs] It's a well-known feeling to me. Used to experience it more commonly in the past. There are a lot of things to be angry about. The state of this shithole, ever-rising rent prices, crappy food, even crappier people…

Interviewer: And are you angry right now?

Trust me, you don't want to find out.

Are your parents still married?

[Silence, dark eyes dart to the side, jaw appears to be clenched.] No. Hard to be married if you’re dead. [He shrugs, acting nonchalant.] She never took his last time, didn’t want to be tied down like a dog on a leash. Good for her, honestly. Think she wanted to file for a divorce, too. She was just too late.

Interviewer: Let's start with some basics.

Birthplace?  

Here.

Interviewer: Here?

[Sighs] Night City, born and bred. Grew up here, probably will die here. Corpo Plaza was my playground, not an idea place to rise a kid, but where, here, is really? Haywood was my true training ground. I’ve lived all over - different neighborhoods, states, countries, different military camps. Yet I always find myself back here, back in NC.

Hair color?

Black. All natural. Started graying like 8 years ago maybe, used to try and dye them to hide it, but I gave up after a year or two. Couldn’t be fucking bothered, really. Besides, I’ve heard people were into silver foxes these days.

Eye color?

Used to be green. Had my mother’s eyes. Beautiful shade, people always complimented her. Me too if I’m being honest, always ignored them though. Sometimes I regret ever getting optics. But I had to, it was in the job description. Now I can’t imagine having ‘ganic ones. And I don’t think I could bare her looking back at me every time I stare in the mirror to shave.

Birth day?

November 12th, you can tell I’m a scorpio.

Interviewer: And what year were you born?

2019. Just before the Fourth Corp Wars. Weird times, but I can’t really remember shit aside from the red sky. Put my childhood way behind me. Stopped celebrating my birthday a long time ago too. No one to celebrate with either, aside a handful of friends, but it’s only just beer at my place anyway.

Mood?

Indifferent. Tired, mostly. Nothing a good hookup can’t fix.

Gender?

Born male, identify as a man. It’s not something I really questioned ever. Always have been comfortable with my body and masculinity. Never lost touch with my feminine side though, [He gestures at his painted nails, silver jewelry, piercings, and smudged eye makeup] guess I got it from my ma.

Summer or winter?

Winter, full stop. Ever seen snow? Best shit ever. Too bad it never snows here. Sometimes I wish I stayed on that mountain and never came back. I’d rather freeze there than sweat my balls off in the summer in Cali. Funny, considering I still live here and don’t plan on moving any time soon.

Morning or afternoon?

Early mornings beat everything. Before the sun even rises. It’s calm, quiet, everyone’s still asleep. It’s when I feel the most rested, even when I haven’t slept the whole night. Yoga sesh on the balcony during the sunrise gotta be the best way to start your day.

Interviewer: Not, let's get a little bit more personal. Some listeners are dying to know these questions.

Are you in love?

Yeah. After forty years still am. It’s mostly repressed by now. ‘m trying not to think about that.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Yeah. Fell victim to it four decades ago. It sucks, hurts when shit doesn’t go your way and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but fuck if it isn’t the best fucking feeling ever in the beginning stage.

Who ended your last relationship? 

We both did. ‘‘twas a mutual decision. We split on good terms. Still got his number on speed dial. We don’t talk much these days, too busy, proud, or butthurt over the whole situation. But we’re still friends, yeah.

Are you afraid of commitments?

Again, who isn’t? Hard to trust people these days, in my line of work especially. Too many secrets, too many money-hungry people willing to take advantage and sell you out for a quick buck. Takes too much time too, committing to someone I mean. If we haven’t known each other for at least a full year I don’t trust you enough to have my number. With some exceptions, of course.

Have you hugged someone within the last week?

Yeah, my friend and ripper. We served two tours together, guy’s been having a rough time lately. Came over with a couple of beers, then couple of beers turned into more beers, and you know what intoxication does to people. Don’t regret it, seemed like both of us needed it.

Have you ever had a secret admirer?

People aren’t too secretive about being a fan - or rather an admirer as you called them - of me online, that’s for sure. Can you believe they’ve made a forum dedicated to me? Yeah, me neither. I don’t know why these kids choose to spend their free time documenting my life, achievements, writing down every piece of clothing I wore and what’s my coffee order, but as long as it’s something as innocent as that I don’t really mind. I don’t have it as bad as some BD stars, I hope at least. Some of the candid pictures they take of me look really good I can give them that. And don’t even get me started about video edits I’ve seen resurface here and there.

Once I had someone send me a package to my private home address, no idea how they found it, glad it was the only instance and it never happened again. If anything I value my privacy and I rather not have an obsessive stalker sending me love letters. Online forums? Be my guest, but don’t go digging too deep, I know my fair share of netrunners.

Have you ever broken your own heart?

Yeah. It was a choice. A stupid one. I could’ve avoided it, but I was young and dumb, a scared nineteen year old. But what’s past is past. Hard to tell if I ever recover but you gotta move forward. I wouldn’t have gotten this far had I been stuck dwelling on the past. There’s not a day I don’t regret doing what I did, the broken heart is very much deserved.

Interviewer: Okay, that was intense. Let's cool off with some light 'this or that' questions.

Love or lust?  

Love, easy. I’m too old to rely on lust, learned that the hard way. In short: been there, done that. All of my hookups were fueled by lust, there was no love there. You can only enjoy lustful relationships so long before it starts wearing you down. It fades quickly, doesn’t fulfill you, makes you feel empty.

Lemonade or iced tea?

Iced tea. It’s the closest thing to iced coffee. And you can always add lemon to your tea. So many types of tea too. Lemonade is too plain and most of the synth stuff tastes like ass anyway.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. Don’t get me wrong I love my dog, love going on a run with him, but I’ve always been a cat person, would choose to reincarnate as one, a black panther perhaps? They seem to like me too, while some dogs snarl and bark. People say I give off tiger vibes, maybe that’s what I was in my past life.

A few best friends or many regular friends? 

A few best friends. You can never be too careful picking who you choose to hang out with, trust enough to lower your guard. Too many fake people, all too eager to stab you in the back when you’re least expecting it. Lived long enough to know, when it comes to people - the less is better.

Wild night out or romantic night in?

Mix of both you can say. My job gives me enough wildness as is. In NC everything happens fast, so a chill night in is a nice change of pace. It’s more private too. But I won’t say no to blowing shit up in the air or wild chases with the cops - that’s what a good night out is, right?

Day or night?

Night. There’s a reason I’ve stayed in NC as long as I did - it’s the city lights. There ain’t nothing more beautiful than Nigh City, well… at night. The air is cooler, you can’t see the grime and smog, only the neon lights. It’s when the freaks come out, it’s when you can get your hands on the best food, best drugs, best guns. Nighttime here has its charm and it definitely charmed me.

Interview: Now for the classics. Have you ever...

Been caught sneaking out?

When I still lived with my dad, sure, a couple of times. It was my stepmom who would always catch me, my dad more rarely, he was out of the house most of the time, always working late shifts. Chalice she… Was always home, monitoring me ever since she moved in. It was hard in the beginning but once I had figured out her schedule it was much easier to sneak out, especially at night.

When I was in boarding school maybe once or twice, but never again after that. It’s where I mastered the art of not getting caught. And as you can see - it worked, I’m still here.

Fallen down/up the stairs?

My room was downstairs, never had any reason to go up to my parents' bedroom, especially after my mom passed. Definitely did when I was a kid, now not really. I trip sometimes over my cat when walking down the stairs but never fall down. The artificially boosted reflexes are a lifesaver.

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?

Someone, rather than something. Nowadays if I want something I just get it and if I can’t, I get over it. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be mine. But I did, I did want someone bad, still do. And yes, it still hurts.

Wanted to disappear?

More times than I can recall. It’s a constant thought, something I’m going over with my counsellor every now and again. I did disappear for a few years back in 2046 - went totally off the radar. It wasn’t planned or anything. Pretty sure I was pronounced legally dead by the time I came back in 2051. Sometimes I do wish to leave, have any trace of me wiped, I feel like I’ve done enough damage here.

Interviewer: Now, for those who still have their hopes up, despite you saying you’re not looking for a relationship. Tell me…

Smile or eyes?

Smile. The eyes can be changed, switched and swapped. Too many Kiroshi models available on the market to count.

Shorter or taller? 

Pretty much everyone is shorter than me. I prefer people close to my size. As long as I don’t have to physically bend to be on the head level with someone, its alright. However I do prefer tall people, someone I can look in the eyes.

Intelligence or attraction?

It’s all about vibes, man. I can be into a dumb hot himbo as much as into a mildly attractive genius, babbling about quantum physics like it’s his entire personality. If the conversation’s flowing and you’ve piqued my interest I don’t care for neither, as long as the sex is good.

Hook-up or relationship?

Both, neither. Hookups get the job done. It’s nice while it lasts. Clouds work for me too, it’s just a transaction, no feelings, zero expectations. Relationships on the other hand - I got burned too many times. Been in two serious ones and I don’t think I have the strength for another one. Not for a while at least.

Interviewer: You don't talk much about your family, do you? Mind if I ask you a few questions about them?

Do you and your family get along?

No. I’ve gone no contact since I got my first job and moved out at 21. It’s not like they bothered to reach out either. Dad died in ‘69. Wasn’t welcomed to his funeral but I went anyway, wanted to see the dead bastard one last time. He’s still out there somewhere, copied his psyche onto a shard; some corps have him stashed away behind sealed doors.

Was never close with my dad’s side of the family, definitely wasn’t close with his latest spouse. Never knew my grandparents or my mom’s cousins, all lived in Geneva, not once have they visited the States. My mom’s older brother on the other hand - the black sheep of the family - met him a few times, we don’t keep in contact however. He shut down after her death, scurrying off to the Badlands, cooking skiff is his trailer. He’s alright, one last person I can call family, really. Besides my stepsister. She’s the only person I truly get along with, only family member I care for. Never knew I had a sister until she turned 7. We keep in contact daily.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”?

Yes. Definitely. Climbing to the top of the food chain takes a lot of sacrifices. Still question if it all was worth it.

Have you ever run away from home?

Yeah. Went through my rebel teenage era, running away for a few day and crashing at my friend’s house or my then-boyfriend’s camp. I would do and go anywhere to just be out of the house. I was a total edge-lord back then.

Have you ever gotten kicked out?

Technically yes, by my dad when he sent me away to the boarding school. But no, not really.

Interviewer: What about your friends? Even a dangerous veteran solo like yourself must have someone to drink beers with.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

A part of me hates a some part of them. I think it’s only normal. But no, why would I be friends with someone I hate.

Do you consider all of your friends good friends? 

Sure, most of them yeah. We’re all totally different people with different goals and ambitions, but they stuck long enough to be considered good friends.

Who is your best friend? 

Was. Mickey. Miss the bastard every day, I carry his dog tag with me at all times. Rache is next line even if we don’t talk much. I guess the military can really bond two people together.

Who knows everything about you?

No one. I guess I tell Felix a lot of stuff, but there are a lot of gaps I keep to myself. Rogue claims to know everything about me, found my real birth certificate after all, but even she can’t know the whole story. No one, but the people involved, know what happened between 2046 and 2051. And I plan on keeping it that way.

[occult-roommates]

Updates on my life

As the weeks kept on passing, Dawud and Audrey still barely had any time to chat, let alone see each others. Thankfully, the young man managed to get two weeks off during the summer, his friend wishes she could say the same. He promised her he’d take the time to visit her a few days during this visit. Well, that’s a plot twist that the janitor ended up having better work conditions than the chemist, but anyway...

At first, they talked about Dawud’s mom upcoming birthday. At this point, it wasn’t funny anymore. He had been avoiding his own mother since the fall of 2017, when he dropped out of college...It was now almost May of 2019! At this point, he had to tell her the truth. Especially since she thinks he still lives in Oasis Spring, making his absence extra suspicious and hard to explain. That topic stressed him out though, so he switched it.

Dawud: But for real Audrey, I miss you so much. You should come visit soon, I’m sure you’ll love my roommates, they’re all pretty great. Especially Kim, trust me you’ll loooove Kim. Audrey: Speaking of your roommates, you still with that vampire? Dawud: Haven’t been in a while. I thought I had texted you after we broke up. Audrey: Oh, yeah. I remember now. Sorry, I’ve been so busy lately it totally slipped off my mind. Dawud: What about you, any new stuff? Are you getting any too? Audrey: No, there’s nothing to do in this town, and it seems like the average age is 45 years old or something, which like it’s fine but not so much for dating. Also it seems like most of my coworkers are married straight women. I went to a club in Roswell last weekend, it’s barely a 30 minutes drive, but I got super overwhelmed by the noise and felt too akward to talk to anyone. Ended up going to see a movie instead, it wasn’t even that good. Dawud: Damn, that sucks...As for me, well, I went to a gay sauna with some friends earlier this month, and um...You know that one time in high school I said I don’t get why the other boys are soooo obsessed with boobs and pussy... Audrey: I am autistic Dawud, please get straight to the point. Dawud: I’m in love with my male roommate. You know, the Italian spellcaster. It’s legit driving me crazy, I never felt this way before I just think of him all the time and I start acting weird when we’re alone and sometime I have...dreams...You know...Dreams... Audrey: You’re gay?!

Well that’s uh...A surprise for sure. Audrey obviously isn’t mad at him for that, she’s pansexual herself, that would be quite hypocritical, it’s more that she didn’t pegged Dawud as gay (eh, pegged). He quickly went on to explain he’s not sure yet. Like, in high school he was 100% being a late bloomer, but he’s at least certain he likes men. After that, he had to hang up, it was 10 pm in San Myshuno and he had work the next morning.

Audrey felt conflicted. On one hand, she’s happy he finally discovered himself, but on the other...It’s fine, she feels fine. It is perfectly fine. Totally not gonna cry about it before falling asleep. Nope.

Prev - Next

[unkownheartandmind]

It’s been a long time since I’ve been on here and so much has happened in the last few years. I’ve had so much time to think about a lot. I had time to heal and to self analyze with a lot. I’ve been alone for two and a half years now and it made me realize a lot. Or maybe it’s my depression along with the autism kicking in either way.

I lost so much that I wasn’t expecting to lose, I lost my car, my home, my mom, one of my brothers, a childhood friend that was so much like a sister to me, I almost lost my youngest son. I’ve been put through the wringer and I don’t say that for sympathy’s sake, just stating fact. I grew up alone having to raise my younger brother, taking care of my mom who was sick and an addict and extremely abusive along with a step father who was even more abusive. I saved money in my teen years to get my family out of the desert shack we lived in to get us into town despite everything they put me through and to this day they still haven’t acknowledged this.

I gave up the last of everything I had for a woman that I thought was amazing but turns out she didn’t like that I wanted to be cooperative with my children’s mother for the sake of the kids. I had two friends manipulate that relationship filling that woman’s head with so many doubts and ideas that she ultimately gave me an ultimatum of choosing between cutting out my children’s mother and not seeing them or her. I chose the kids and their mother and I’ve not regretted my decision and there’s a reason for that.

Even after everything we went through, after so many things that after sitting with myself and getting on my own nerves and self reflecting I finally came to the realization that I fucked up everything. I could have treated her so so much better than I did. We did bad things to each other but it’d be a stretch saying I didn’t deserve it. In 2019 when everything finally came to an end, I broke what was left of my heart and lied my ass off telling her that I didn’t love her anymore because I thought she didn’t want me anymore and that wasn’t the case.

To this day after all the thinking I’ve done and all the reflecting I’ve done I wish I could go back and do things so much better, handled things better, been there for her more. A coworker asked me a while ago if she were to come to me and say she wanted to try to work things out again would you do it as a hypothetical and I can honestly say I think I would. I know she wouldn’t because she finally has everything she ever wanted and I’m so happy for her I truly am, it’s all I ever wanted was for her and the kids to be happy. But if I could have one more chance with that goddess of chaos again I would do everything in my power to do things right. I was so young and brought toxic traits with me into our relationship and she did a little too but I’m the one that left. She’s always been so intelligent and hard driven to achieve what she wants, she’s so funny and an incredible mother and I don’t think I ever told her that, at least as much as I should have. But if I’m being honest she’s probably treated me the best out of anybody I’ve ever been with, at least she left me the apartment when we separated so I wouldn’t be homeless and could see our kids. But she was the only one who ever told me this (and to this day I still don’t know if she meat this or if she’d remember this) we were in the shower one day and I had to ask her “how did I end up with someone as gorgeous and as amazing as you? And I’ll always remember this, she put her hands on my face and forced me to look her in the eye and told me “I feel safe and secure with you and you’re an amazing dad to my son and you will be to our next one when he’s born”. I’ve never forgotten that and it’s always stuck with me. I never stopped loving her or the kids, and I don’t think I ever will, and I honestly feel that’s why I’ve chosen to stay single because if someone is going to make me choose over my kids than what’s to stop someone else from doing it again. I rather be there for my kids and if I have to be for her to and she’ll never know any of this but that’s ok, she doesn’t need to. I’m so sorry for how things got between us but at least they’ve gotten better lately. I just hope you don’t hate me forever. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you everything you wanted and that I promised, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be how I am now back then after all the changes I’ve made. I really hope in full sincerity that you’re happy. And on a side note, with dark eyeliner and the right shade of lipstick she looks like the actress Eva Green.

In all reality, I know that if I were to talk to her, she probably wouldn’t want to hear me out. I did so much damage that I know she doesn’t trust me, if anything I’d probably hurt her more by bringing any of it up or even trying to give an apology. I wish we could sit down and just talk, we started off as such good friends and evolved into something more, I chose her as the one I wanted to have a family with, my ex wanted kids with me but it just didn’t feel right, I wouldn’t have been able to give the time and attention my boys deserve, hell I can barely do that now. I honestly feel like such a failure and don’t want to be here anymore some days. But knowing that I could get that phone/ video call from my kids at any given moment makes it worth it and even though I don’t get to see them as often as I wish I could it’s still worth it to see them and in a way it’s worth it to see her too. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to tell her everything I want to as a deathbed confession at least. Tell her how much I miss sleeping next to her at night, giving her a kiss on the forehead before work every morning as she still slept, all the fun times we had together, all the hardships we overcame together, having time as a real family together, just all of us against the world. Madmen dream the loudest and my dreams are loud every night.

[fourthofjuly2018-blog]

63 Most Amazing Mother’s Day Greeting Cards… 63 Most Amazing Mother’s Day Greeting Cards Source by pouted

[gumrina]

Funny-Mothers-Day-Sayings-from-Son-Daughter #MothersDay #MothersDay2019 #HappyMo… Funny-Mothers-Day-Sayings-from-Son-Daughter #MothersDay #MothersDay2019 #HappyMothersDay #HappyMothersDay2019 Source by adnanadi9267

[aurumacadicus]

Okie I knows people are probably tired of hearing me talk about what books I’m reading on this blog but I can’t decide which non-fiction to read first so

Surprising no one I have two Carrie Fisher memoirs so I don’t want to read those back to back but also everything else is so interesting too?

1) Survivors Club: The True Story of a Very Young Prisoner of Auschwitz—Tells the unforgettable story of how a father’s courageous wit, a mother’s fierce love, and one perfectly timed illness saved his life, and how others in his family from Zarki, Poland, dodged death at the hands of Nazis time and again with incredible deftness. (I think we all know why I haven’t sat down and read this book in one go. It’s gonna rip me apart, I just know it. Someone literally reviewed this with “I started this as an audiobook but it was just too harrowing to listen to, so I bought the book to read instead.”)

2) Kirk and Anne: Letters of Love, Laughter, and a Lifetime in Hollywood—The late film icon and screen legend Kirk Douglas was married to Anne Buydens for more than six decades. Here they both look back on a lifetime filled with drama both on and off the screen. (Been putting it off because it felt creepy to read letters but I’ve gotten over that, I think.)

3) Shockaholic— Told with the same intimate style, brutal honesty, and uproarious wisdom that placed Wishful Drinking on the New York Times bestseller list for months, Shockaholic is the juicy account of Carrie Fisher’s life, focusing more on the Star Wars years and dishing about the various Hollywood relationships she’s formed since she was chosen to play Princess Leia at only nineteen years old. Fisher delves into the gritty details that made the movie—and herself—such a phenomenal success, admitting, “It isn’t all sweetness and light sabers.” (Got the summary off of Goodreads because all the other summaries are just men complaining about how she isn’t funny. 🙄)

4) They Were Her Property— They Were Her Property is "the first extensive study of the role of Southern white women in the plantation economy and slave-market system" and disputes conventional wisdom that white women played a passive or minimal role in slaveholding. It was published by Yale University Press and released on February 19, 2019. For the book Jones-Rogers received the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and the Merle Curti Social History Award from the Organization of American Historians. (Started this, got overwhelmed, put it down for a while; am willing to try again and hopefully finish this time. Maybe it’ll be easier if I have a place to put my thoughts every 

5) The Princess Diarist— The Princess Diarist is a 2016 memoir written by Carrie Fisher, based on diaries she kept as a young woman around the time she starred in the 1977 film Star Wars. The book is the third memoir Fisher wrote, in addition to four novels and a one-woman Broadway show. (Listen, I don’t like Star Wars, so if she manages to shit on the movies in this book, it’ll be a 5/5 in my review.)

6) Backward & In Heels—Women have been instrumental in the success of American cinema since its very beginning. One of the first people to ever pick up a motion picture camera was a woman. As was the first screenwriter to win two Academy Awards, the inventor of the boom microphone and the first person to be credited with the title Film Editor. Throughout the entire history of Hollywood women have been revolutionizing, innovating, and shaping how we make movies. Yet their stories are rarely shared. This is what film reporter Alicia Malone wants to change. “Backwards and in Heels” tells the history of women in film in a different way, with stories about incredible ladies who made their mark throughout each era of Hollywood. From the first women directors, to the iconic movie stars, and present day activists. Each of these stories are inspiring in the accomplishments of women, and they also highlight the specific obstacles women have had to face. (So far TCM has not disappointed me with their books so I hope this one will be just as good.)

[fourthofjuly2018-blog]

Boss Gift Ideas Thank You Boss Gift Happy Boss Day Gift Boss Women Appreciation … Boss Gift Ideas Thank You Boss Gift Happy Boss Day Gift Boss Women Appreciation Gift for Boss Gift Men Female Male Boss Gift Funny Candy Box Source by lruxandra

[gumrina]

happy mother's day! – A girl and a glue gun… happy mother's day! - A girl and a glue gun Source by stephrosedoan

[fourthofjuly2018-blog]

Mothers Day Card Or Happy Birthday Mom Mother by SunnyDoveStudio… Mothers Day Card Or Happy Birthday Mom Mother by SunnyDoveStudio Source by laurakscott

[gumrina]

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