*whispers* am I the only one who really really didn’t like The Fault In Our Stars?
*whispers* am I the only one who really really didn’t like The Fault In Our Stars?
It really depends on how you feel about meeting her. For me, not knowing would be worse than knowing and being disappointed, but that’s just me, and that’s knowing my family. If you’d like to meet her, that indicates that maybe you’d feel better knowing about that part of your family, and having the whole story. On the other hand, it could distort your view of your parents.
Either way, giving a face and a personality to this new figure in your view of your family would change everything for you. That always happens when you get a glimpse of your parents as flawed human beings, rather than the beings we build them up to be in your head. So you could gain a friend and even a sibling, but having a relationship with her could strain your relationship with your parents, who clearly don’t desire contact. Or you could discover someone with a very different view of a man you’ve loved and respected all your life, and be rejected in the process.
On the other hand, if you never know her you might spend your life wondering who she is, what she looks like, how similar she is to you and how different.
The decision has to be yours. If you do meet her, I’d say try to work it out with your parents first, so that you don’t end up doing more damage than good no matter what the outcome. If you don’t, then you’re not a coward or a fool for not wanting to: blood doesn’t mean anything without history behind it, and you owe nothing to anyone here. You don’t owe it to your parents to respect their wish to not know someone who is technically family; neither do you owe them some sort of revenge for not telling you, by insisting on meeting her anyway; and neither do you owe it to your estranged half-sister to try to know her.
You owe it only to yourself to do what you think is best, and try to resolve it however you can so it doesn’t hang over you indefinately.
TO EVERYONE WHO LIVES IN THE UK:
Please, please stay indoors and don’t go out unless it is completely unavoidable. Tonight is meant to be the worst storm in 20 years, hurricanes and high winds topping over 100mph, so please please stay safe!
Reblogging for my UK followers
It’s meant to be the worst storm evah IN LONDON. 70% of the country will see a normal storm. Can we please remember that the UK does not equal London-And-The-Home-Counties please?
Until I see a picture of your face, you all look like your icon.
Fic: Irresistible Force
Authors: Rufeepeach & Fyre
Summary: She held the keys to his cell in her hands. But a curse can change a lot of things, including who is bound and who is freed.
Notes: YAY! We got more done!
“I don’t love you.”
I think the adage goes something along the lines of “book lovers never go to bed alone”.
Belle (c) Disney
Not if Gold has anything to say about it, anyway ;)
The pain of knowing your favourite book has already become a movie.
But it was a bad movie.
HEY YOU BACK OFF HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE THAT MOVIE WAS GREAT OKAY
AVATAR NEVER HAPPENED
EXCUSE YOU THE MOVIE MAKES HIM THIS WEIRD BIRD CREATURE FEATURE THING AND MICHAEL A LITTLE BOY AND FUCKS WITH THE STORYLINE.
HE’S NOT EVEN WELSH. OR A COWARD. OR DRUNK OFF HIS ASS AND HUNGOVER AT THE END.
Do not fucking take my childhood and make an anime movie out of scraps of it ok. I don’t even care if the movie is a decent movie on its own, it’s NOT THE BOOK ON SCREEN AND THAT’S WHAT I WANTED.
Howl’s Moving Castle is one of the best damn animated movies of all time by one of the best creators of all time. I loved that book too and I kind of feel offended that you said Hayao Miyazaki made the movie from ‘scraps’ of the book.
If it’d been a live action movie it probably would’ve been a bit closer to the book, to be honest, but I love it because it is different from the book which is why I think Dianne Wynne Jones loved the animated movie as well.
But he kind of did. He took the basic premise and a few of the characters and then made something completely different and new. And yeah he made something that’s fun to watch and pretty and I love Billy Crystal in it, it’s a really good movie. But it’s not at all like the book, it’s bits of the book put in with a whole lot of new anime things. I have it on DVD and rewatch it sometimes and enjoy it, but it’s scraps of the book mixed in with other stuff.
I don’t love it half as much as I love the book and my point was that if you’re going to make a movie out of it, don’t just cobble bits and pieces together. Either make a movie far enough removed that it stands entirely alone or make a movie of the book. As it is they have the rights so I don’t even know if they could make a movie of the actual book, anymore, which is a bit sad as far as I’m concerned.
I didn’t mean to offend fans of the movie, but I stand by what I said. They took out the bits of the story and characters that I loved most and that makes me a little sad, to be honest, when comparing the two.
It was of Rumplestiltskin in his castle and he was singing:
Just keep spinning.
Just keep spinning.
Just keep spinning, spinning, spinning.
What do we do we spin, spin, spin.
OH HO HO How I love to SPIIIIIIIIN.
When you WAAAAAANNTTT to spin you want to spin.
Just let that image settle in you mind for a minute.
So i’ve been bursting into giggles all day.
It’s then ironic that Belle’s the one with the memory loss.
Time of day verse. Gold is sick this time.This was your fault, not mine.
So i left, had a good cry and a cig and came back to all these lovely messages from everyone. Thank you so much, that anon really got to me. (putting it under a read more because i know not everyone wants to read about this).
Remember that we all get comments like that. Stragg got some a while back, I think, people have sent hate at Bad-Faery, Ched, all kinds of people. Which leads me to believe that 99% of these people are genuinely just threatened that there’re people with the talent and, more importantly, the confidence to write and post and share and improve. They’re tearing people down to make themselves feel better. It’s textbook bullying, which means that it’s actually nothing to do with the recipient and everything to do with the sender.
Who none of us give a shit about, cause they send horrible things like this rather than being supportive and kind.
We love you, honey, so as you said, just ignore anyone who feels otherwise and pulls this kind of crap. Cause none of us have time for it <3
Cut for adolescent meaningless bitching. Scroll on.
Spoilers, hastily drawn pictures, and I still have no idea how to draw people kissing.
I’m watching Beauty and the Beast on ABC Family and all of a sudden they have their Happy Ending. Now.. if we look at where the characters come from…
1. Rumpelstiltskin literally tears himself to pieces in his own fairytale when the Miller’s Daughter guesses his name.
2. The beast and Belle have True Love’s kiss and she breaks his spell and they live happily ever after
3. The Evil Queen is defeated by Snow White.
Canon SUGGESTS (not yet proven) that Rumpel has already had his run in with the Miller’s daughter (Cora) and he is not in pieces. Does that mean that Rumpel and Belle will get their happy ending, but Regina will be defeated as the “evil” force of the show?
…just something I’m pondering tonight. What do you guys think?
Rumpelstiltskin could rip his own arm off, he’d still be alive and kicking, unless he used the dagger. And I think the Dark Magic would put him back together: the Dark One needs a vessel after all, and one that’s a few chunks of flesh on the floor won’t cut it.
I think (and this is my personal theory, unfounded) that the idea is that something went wrong in FTLand to get rid of the happy endings even before the Curse, because let’s face it, for a land of happy ever afters ftland is a shithole.
This is why I think #fuckingbluefairy is the Big Bad. Who got rid of Bae? She did. Which leads Rumpel to making the Curse, and in the process (again, my opinion) screwing up Regina so she can cast it, through Cora. I think Blue has her own reasons for wanting it cast and she plays a long, long game.
I think Blue did something centuries ago that screwed up the stories, so no one can really be happy at all. I think - directly or indirectly - she has caused all the deviation we’ve seen from happy endings, and it takes a lot of intervention to set them back on track. Rum had to work his scaly butt off to get Snowing together for good, and he’s been portrayed as the polar opposite of Blue.
So yeah, I think Henry’s ‘bring back the happy endings’ isn’t about Regina’s Curse at all. That was broken at the end of the first series, and that’s not the end of the story.
He’s deciding if he wants to ravish you against the wall..or in the floor.
There are words for people like you.
You’re a bad, bad person.
AND FUCK, BEFORE THIS EVENING I HAD OVARIES.
Just think, Cal, look at that little smirk.
He’s made up his mind, and now he’s thinking of all the ways he can make you scream.
And there are words for people like you.
Hands. Robert Carlyle’s hands.
OH BB ! OUR OVARIES ARE IMMORTAL !
Yes. Sucking her neck ?! Hmm, maybe a love bite here and there…oh, what about, a love bite down there…
Indeed there are XD
Ugh, Bobby’s hands. Those long, slim, clever fingers and aaaall the things he could do with them. Just sliding and pinching and rubbing and ooooh….
Yes, and then biting all down neck and collarbone, biting flesh and then soothing tongue and lower and lower…
Fuck, just look at his face. He knows what he could do to you and he LOVES it.
Yees, going further..searching for something with his fingers, and then…he hits that spot which makes us see the stars and the universe.
Lower, and lower, leaving a trail of saliva on your navel…
Bitch please, he’s eye fucking us.
Just such long, useful fingers, just searching and then yes, yes, there it is, slow and long and deep and guuuuuuuuuh….
Just biting and sucking skin and then swirling that tongue around and around, and finding little sensitive spots, smirking when you moan…
Yes, so much eyesex going on.
Oh, yes, there there. The pleasure that goes through you, makes your toes curl!
His sinful tongue, playing, teasing, never satisfied with one moan. He keeps going, and going. And then, yes, you moan until he shush you with one rough kiss, sucking your sweet little moans away…
His fingers hit and miss just the right place, and he knows it, and he smirks when you glare at him and just… there, all thought erased with one little shift…
He just keeps going, around and low and never quite where you need him, slow enough to make you moan and never enough to make you happy. And he enjoys every moment of it, dragging out the torture, kisses you to keep you quiet when you scream his name…
You want to slap that little bastard. Oh yes, wipe away that smirk that makes your knees go weak and beg him for undying pleasure.
There, just there. You shift your hips to hit that spot, and yes, the stars are back again, and the delightful shivers return. And he’s watching you. Studying your face, looking for the right moment…
…And just there, there, and you’re arching into him, unable to stop the hoarse, begging little sobs that pour from your mouth as he keeps pushing and twisting, drawing out the moment forever until you can’t hear, can’t think, can’t even breathe but to scream out his name at the top of your lungs. Your every nerve ending is on fire, alive under his clever, teasing fingers, his smirking, smug lips and restless tongue.
The moment when all the tension leaves your body, like an electric shock, through your veins and limbs, and it feels so good. You grab him, craving your nails on his back, and ohh, the look in his face..
He doesn’t even seem to expect it when you spin him over, so he’s pinned beneath you and your nails are racing over his skin, causing him to hiss and growl, the pain as pleasurable as any caress. His eyes are all dark, and he wants so badly to take control again and ravish you until you’re unable to move.
But then your hands have moved lower, and suddenly his eyes are squeezed shut and a whole litany of filthy praise is spilling from his mouth as his hands dig into your skin, reduced to feral moans and grunts and bucking, shaking hips.
And you smile. Oh yes, you smile, this sight before you…a desperate man, seeking his pleasure. Why not give him what he wants then.
A gentle lick in his hard and moist length. The answer? A hoarse grunt.
But then you just sit back, smile, watch him writhe and plead, murmuring your name and every obscenity he knows, bucking his hips and trying desperately to convince you to just give in, to give him what he wants.
One more stroke of your tongue, and he’s thrusting up to meet your mouth, groaning like he’s dying and desperate, hands threaded in your hair and trying not to beg, trying not to force you to satisfy every aching little need he has. And still you hold still, and watch, and wait for him to say “please”, to beg with all the words he has left for what he’s craving so very badly, for you to end this punishment.
The type of punishment that he’s too afraid to admit that he likes. No, loves.
He can’t take it anymore, “please” he says, a mere whisper, full of need and desperation.
You smile. A smile that says “Just his time luv”, and you dig in one more time.
He’s been just asking for this kind of torture, driving you insane, and yet he’s so adorable, lying there all sweat-slick and desperate, that you give in and give him what he needs. You flutter the flat of your tongue over him, take him in deep and pull up hard, and after a few repeats he’s lost, bucking up hard and fucking your mouth, wild and uncontrolled, desperate for release.
All the tensions are released in one single thrust. He takes you by surprise, his warm fluids hit in the back of your throat, you welcome it with hunger and need. He opens his eyes to look at you, a soft sigh accompanied by a lazy smile.
He makes a soft little whimpering noise as you wipe a hand across the back of your mouth, and he pulls you up for a long, deep kiss, tasting himself on your tongue as you sag against him on the floor, the warmth of his body wonderful compared to the cold stone beneath. His tongue traces lazy patterns over the roof of your mouth, ties pretty bows with your own, and you feel another stirring of something, warm and deep and sated, in the pit of your stomach.