somewheremidatlantic:

Marisha put on those rainbow suspenders tonight and wanted to leave NO doubt as to why

molly-mollymauksenfree:

“Beauyasha or Beaukeg” you fools. Have you considered: Beauyashkeg?

invoked-duplicity:

can we pls keep this trend up where the women in the cast are buff and heavy hitters and all the guys have like max 11 strength and throw around cool magic stuff? bc i’m so here for it, dang

owl-and-the-moon:

sespursongles:

I found out recently that at a time of his life when Tolstoy was in a slump and had stopped writing & earning money, his wife Sophia borrowed money from her mum to start her own publishing office and publish editions of his works—and in order to figure out how publishing worked, she travelled to St Petersburg to ask Anna Dostoyevsky for advice, as Anna had also spent the past 14 years planning the editions of her husband’s work, correcting proofs, placing ads in papers, battling official censors, etc.
It reminded me of this post about women writers supporting each other—so many links between women in history that we never hear about. Someone please write a book about the wives of all the great male writers…

(In previous years Sophia, while giving birth to Tolstoy’s 13 children and raising them and managing his estate (he was a count) pretty much on her own, also wrote the clean copies of all of his manuscripts out of his nearly illegible drafts—the final draft of War and Peace was 3,000 pages and she copied it seven times, correcting spelling and grammar and offering key suggestions and critiques of the plot; for example explaining to him that people would be more interested in the social or romantic plots, the human aspects, than in the minutiae of the battles and war strategy plots. A few months before his death, Tolstoy named a male friend the executor of his literary estate rather than his wife, who had been doing this thankless job since she was 19, and gave to the public domain all the copyrights to his works that Sophia had previously owned (for her publishing company). She wrote in her diary “Now I am cast aside as of no further use, although I am, nevertheless, expected to do impossible things.”)

Also I shouldn’t be surprised (but I am) at just how many “great male writers” read their wife’s (or female relatives’) diaries and drew a lot of inspiration from them, stealing ideas or even sometimes entire sentences / paragraphs / poems out of them. This is such a recurrent pattern. There’s Tolstoy (who read Sophia’s diaries and also asked her, when she was 17, to show him a short story she’d written, gave it back to her the next day saying he’d barely glanced at it, when he actually wrote in his diary “What force of truth and simplicity!” and used the story as the embryo for the Rostov family in War and Peace), but also William Wordsworth who read his sister Dorothy’s journal and drew a lot from it, and F. Scott Fitzgerald of course. When Zelda was still young a magazine editor offered to publish parts of her journals, and her husband (of 5 months!) said he couldn’t allow it because he drew a lot of inspiration from them and planned on using parts of them in his future novels and short stories. There’s also French novelist Raymond Radiguet who stole his female lover’s diary to write his novel The Devil in the Flesh, and was lauded by fellow male writers & critics for his brilliant insights into a woman’s mind. Which had been copy/pasted from this woman’s diary.
[Also, while he didn’t read it until after her death, Henry James’s sister Alice mentions in her diary that he “embedded in his pages many pearls fallen from my lips, which he steals in the most unblushing way, saying, simply, that he knew they had been said by the family, so it did not matter.”]
I really love reading women’s journals, and when they were married to a famous writer, you wouldn’t believe how often the person who edited them mentions in the introduction “if some passages sound familiar it’s because her husband was reading her diary and ~getting inspired” ie plagiarising although the term technically doesn’t apply because every word his wife wrote and idea she had was legally his property (just like she was).

It makes me feel so bitter to contrast what women do—decades of unpaid, unacknowledged work to proofread, copy, publish, preserve from censorship, improve, develop and promote their husband’s writing—with what men do—openly steal ideas and whole sentences from their wife’s writing while forcing her to give birth to 13 children that she didn’t want and he doesn’t help raise.

There has been a copy of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet in my house as long as I can remember, and I held dear many verses from it for a long time. Then I read about his relationship with one Elizabeth Haskell, who supported and edited and worked so closely with him that, “Haskell’s contribution to his writing, including The Prophet, was such that by today’s standard she would be acknowledged as co-author.” (Wikipedia, but there was a much longer article about her I stumbled across once.)

Kind of takes the mystic-spiritual edge off a male writer when you learn that much of what was published under his name was discreetly written into his work by a talented but nameless woman behind the scenes. 

kiss-me-lick-me-eat-me:

patchoulisandwiches:

I was at the library the other day, and my daughter was playing at the Art Table with two other girls. One of the little girls’ mother was near by and said “Aren’t you girls good little artists!” 

And the third girl perked up and said “My dad’s an artist!” 

The woman smiled indulgently and says “Oh really, what kind?” 

The little girl proudly told her “He’s a tattoo artist.” 

And the woman. Oh man. Her face just twists, crumples into something nothing short of disdain, and she opens her mouth and says “That’s not…”

“An easy job,” I cut in, looking the woman in the face because really? You’re going to tell a child her dad’s not a real artist. “In fact it’s very very hard, because that art is alive forever on a person, not like on paper. And that’s scary! You have to be really good, to be a tattoo artist. Your dad must be really, really good.”

what kind of person could just try and crush a little kid like that? goddamn.

Do people not realize that tattoo artists have to know how to draw really well and produce straight precise lines on a moving canvas, and make the right color selection and know how to blend those colors and do proper shading, and a million other art things and no single client/canvas is the same and they have to adjust based on the pigment of the skin and where the person wants the tattoo?! What the hell

myageisntsexy:

anti-cgl-prince:

peachfaeriie:

i’ve been seeing this post a lot lately:

which means a whole lot of you don’t know the difference between an intrusive thought and an impulsive thought.

intrusive thoughts are a symptom of ocd and many other disorder, they are upsetting and often graphic, they are thoughts you do not want and that scare you, commonly thoughts about doing something violent or about abuse. i suffer from intrusive thoughts, they are triggering and upsetting and yes, dark or about killing people.

an impulse can also be a symptom of a disorder, impulses are not inherently bad and are just your brain telling you to do things with no thought as to why. some can be unpleasant, but they can also be things like “cut all your hair off” or “eat the cardboard”.

please stop saying that intrusive thoughts and impulses are the same thing, you are only adding to the stigma and misunderstanding people with intrusive thoughts face.

thank you.

please spread this guys!!!

Good post op 💗

bloodyshadow1:

I know that Lorenzo being invisible stalking the Nein through the Sour Nest freaks some people out, but for me it’s hilarious and kind of cathartic.  I mean he watches them tear through his fortress and his people, hired members and Shepards alike thinking about what he’s going to do to the Nein once he defeats them as punishment.  He watches all of this arrogantly believing no matter what they do he’s not gonna fall.  And yet he does, he dies crawling away as his body turns to ash in his own dungeon surrounded by the prisoners he’s taken as his slaves.  He could have appeared at any moment and with a little backup could have taken out the Nein or done some serious damage with hit and run attacks to the point where the Nein wouldn’t have stood a chance.  Instead he follows them so assured in his own invincibility and suffers for it, kind of like the Nein did attacking the Shepards 4 v 9 and paid for it, it mirrors how they get their redemption by killing him