Leonardo Da Vinci, The proportions of the human body according to Vitruvius, 1490
Sailor Moon, Toei Animation, 1992
dear time traveler who came to 2020:
i know u wanted destiel, but at what cost
i’ve known you for ten minutes and i don’t know how i ever went a day without you
Would you even be here if I had longer to live? Maybe I’d let you chase me around for a few more centuries. That was always the fun part anyway.
[…] I don’t know how to say goodbye.
Try this. One of you stands, walks to the door, doesn’t turn back, even if their heart aches for just one more look, one more moment. But you’ll know that the not looking… just means… I’ll never forget you.
can you do a klaroline drabble freaky friday style where they switch bodies? I think it could be really funny
Thank you for your request and your patience! I hope you enjoy this little drabble! It was so fun to write!
Caroline had no screams left to expel when she heard his accented voice roll from her own tongue. She rushed to the nearest mirror, not even phased by the expensive, ornate pieces around her. And there it was: Klaus Mikaelson. Shirtless, she might add.
“OH MY GOD!”
She shuddered at the sound of his rounded vowels, the masculine tone of his voice enough to drive her mad. Why was it, that even in this context, she was mildly aroused? Oh god, why was she even thinking that?!
She began testing out the motor functions of his body, twinkling his fingers and stretching his face, and it wasn’t long before she heard a heavy rapping at the front door.
Caroline swallowed hard as she exited the bedroom, twisting her lips at the sight of the hallway. It occurred to her that she had never explored the mansion so thoroughly. It would have to wait till later.
She rushed towards the sound and hesitated as she stepped up to the door. What if it wasn’t him? Would she have to pretend to be him? It couldn’t be too hard, could it? Throw a couple sweethearts and loves amongst an irritatingly well-timed quip, irrational threats included if necessary, and she would pass the test!
With that in mind, Caroline finally resolved to swallow her fears and opened the door, puffed chest at the ready.
Caroline was greeted by the sight of her own body and the sound of her own voice producing unfamiliar words.
It was official! She was going crazy! She was having one of those Twin Peaks fever dreams where, instead of a man speaking backwards, she was hearing Klaus’ words delivered in her own voice!
Tilting his (or…rather, her) head, he twitched up his brows. “Having a bit of a shock, are we?”
“Seriously?! What did you do?!”
“Me? I did nothing,” he paused, his eyes slowly skating up the door frame, “though I must say I did enjoy perusing your bedroom.”
“Perusing?!” she exclaimed and folded her arms. “I bet the first thing you did was get naked, you pervert!”
“Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve done no such thing,” he stated rather proudly and lifted his chin. “But before you go throwing accusations around, how do I know you didn’t take a peak for yourself?” He took a step inward, his lips curling as she made sure to maintain the gap. “I’m sure you have been dying to know if there’s something big behind the bravado.”
He was enjoying this too much. It was infuriating.
“Or small,” she gritted out, plastering a pretty smile on his face.
Through her voice, he brought his words to a hush, “I would be more than happy to indulge you, sweetheart.”
-Michelle Hodkin, The Evolution of Mara Dyer
i’d like to be reincarnated as a wild daisy.
bees don’t question my moral ambiguities.
Saving Face (2012), acid attacks on women in Pakistan
Meanwhile, in America, feminists are complaining about how dress codes are oppressive.
You idiots have never experienced oppression, and pray you never do, because this is what it looks like.
As a South Asian American feminist, let me remind everyone that oppression is not a competition.
Just because we fight one type of sexism doesn’t mean we don’t care about other instances of sexism that don’t affect us directly in our day to day lives.
My heart goes out to this woman and the hundreds of other victims like her. I want to educate people about these kinds of incidents. I support organizations that help women like this.
You may think that dress code issues are trivial, but they are related to a larger issue of women’s bodily autonomy, which affects women’s health and safety.
So please, let’s try to bring awareness and bring about change instead of insulting entire groups of people because they are facing issues that are less scary than the one presented.
“oppression is not a competition”
thank you so much for this wording
Every time someone, usually a guy, complains about feminists not experiencing oppression, I can’t help but see what they are really trying to say.
“This is how men could be treating you, be grateful it’s only as bad as it is now.”
And that’s actually an attribute of abusers, I believe I read somewhere. To compare you to someone being treated worse and tell you you should be grateful you have it so good. It convinces the victim they should be silent in the face of their abuse.
It’s literally an abuse tactic.
Every time someone says something like, “You […] have never experienced oppression, and pray you never do, because this is what it looks like.” What they are saying is, “shut up, we could treat you worse if we wanted to.”
This is for the awesome and talented belated birthday girl @howeverlongs for her love and that gorgeous cover, I hope you like this mini drabble in the meantime.
New Orleans (present day - 6 months after the TVD finale)
Klaus thought he was going mad. His eyes flickered opened, slowing trying to gain his bearings as his nose picked up a very familiar scent. It wasn’t just any scent either, it was hers. It was Caroline. It wasn’t the first time though and Klaus knew it wouldn’t be the last given his frequent visions.
“So, is this how you treat all your guests? Or am I just lucky, Mikaelson?” She asked, appearing in the doorway hands on hips. She looked gorgeous as usual, her golden waves falling over her shoulders and those expressive blue eyes staring him down. What he couldn’t quite work out was whether she was real or a figment of his imagination, yet again.
New Orleans - Three months post TVD finale
Klaus remembered that day well. It was a Friday and he’d stumbled out of his studio around 10am after a long night painting. The morning sunlight was spilling in through the large bay window as Klaus walked into his expansive kitchen. He flipped on the kettle switch, hoping that some tea would aid some much needed sleep.
It was the third night that week he’d painted through the night, too restless to sleep. Klaus knew why of course, not that he’d admit it aloud. It had been three months since he sent the cheque. Klaus hadn’t really expected a response but it didn’t mean that he didn’t want one. His thoughts had been filled with her and her reaction. She hadn’t cashed the cheque, that was all he did know. But Klaus needed to know more.
“That scruffy, homeless look is really becoming on you, Niklaus,” Rebekah drawled, breaking Klaus from his thoughts. He didn’t respond just emmited a low growl of frustration. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Can’t a girl want to spend time with her brother?”
“No,” he shot back.
“I think its time you get some sleep, grouchy, unbearable insomniac isn’t your best look.”
“No, its time he got laid,” his younger brother interrupted, swiping an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. Klaus rolled his eyes, all he wanted was to have a nice cup of tea and here he was stuck with the bloody peanut gallery. “All of that brooding over blondie isn’t going to relieve the stress.”
“I am not brooding,” Klaus scowled, not even bothering to deny that she was on his mind. “And not that it’s any of your business but I happen to relieve plenty of stress in the studio.”
“Only because all you do is paint Ms Forbes,” Elijah added, opening the fridge door and inspecting its contents.
“Could I maybe get at least two seconds of peace?”
“Not until you open the letter that arrived for you from blondie which Rebekah has in her greedy, little hands,” Kol scowled. Klaus suddenly felt buoyed, he’d been desperate to hear from her for what seemed like forever. He immediately narrowed his eyes in his sister’s direction.
“You took my letter?”
“I was about to bring it to you,” she replied, defensively.
“Only because I insisted she did,” Elijah murmured.
“Did you read this?” He insisted, snatching it from her grasp unexpectedly.
“Unfortunately not,” Kol muttered. “Elijah went all overbearing big brother on that possibility too.”
“Maybe we should leave Niklaus in peace to read his letter,” the eldest suggested, attempting to steer his younger siblings from the room.
“But we’re just getting to the good part,” Kol whined.
“How about I leave instead,” Klaus growled, leaving quickly his cup of tea long forgotten. He wasn’t sure what to expect but all Klaus cared about was that she’d responded. After shutting his bedroom door, he undid the flap equal parts nervous and excited.
The first thing he noticed was his cheque as it fell from the envelope, and floated onto the floor beneath him. Klaus should have known the obstinate blonde wouldn’t take his gift so easily. He sat down on the nearest chair and finished unfolding the white stationery, her neat cursive coming into view.
“Klaus, while I appreciate your kind gesture I cannot accept your rather enormous and quite frankly over the top gift. Might I suggest flowers or chocolate for the next girl you want to impress?” She’d signed it quite formally at the bottom and Klaus let out a small chuckle. In two sentences she’d captured everything he loved about her. That unapologetic pride, that snappy wit and her apparent need to impart advice.
Klaus wasn’t going to let this go and walked towards his desk, scooping up his cheque as he went. It would be a crime not to respond given how much her words spoke to him. He produced a piece of paper and began writing.
this is beautiful writing
part 3 of The Drawing
Caroline was used to tears.
She had cried for her mom, for her friends, for Tyler, for her own lost life. But this was different.
She was crying for him.
For the second time today, Caroline starred at herself in the rear view mirror. She had been sitting outside Elena’s house for the last few minutes trying to stop the endless stream of tears that were running down her face.
“Get a hold of yourself, come on.” Caroline managed to stop the tears from falling. She started to reach for the glove box for napkins, but then stopped herself. “It’s fine”, she reassured. “You burned it. It’s not gonna be there.”
She reached forwards and it opened with a thump.
Caroline let out a sign of relief when she only saw napkins. She grabbed a few and began to dry off her face. She returned her gaze to the mirror and saw that her eyes were no longer red. She reached up and twirled a few strands of hair to return to their curly shape.
Her eyes softened as she was satisfied with her appearance and her lips parted as she released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Hey, I’m fine. She repeated those words in her head as if rehearsing.
She grabbed her bag off the seat next to her and took one last look in the mirror. She plastered a charming smile on her face and got out of the car.
Caroline could pretend all she wanted, but the smile never reached her eyes.
The sun was beginning to set and the mood of the gloomy day reflected the dimly lit room. Desks were covered in sketches and pencils, and the walls were lined with paintings and drawings.
In the far side of the room, Klaus stood hunched over a table. He repeatedly brought a glass of scotch to his lips in an attempt to dull the pull he felt.
The feeling had lingered all day. Since the rain had started this morning. It was like someone had wrapped wire around his chest and was pulling it in every direction. It had stopped three times throughout the day, though it always returned.
But it was just pain. It would subside soon. It always did.
Klaus walked over to one of the desks and began sorting through some of the papers. His gaze hardened after picking up a stack of papers. A small pile of parchment sketches laid before him. Klaus tossed the stack in his hand on the floor and pulled up a chair.
He dragged the pile so it was in front of him and moved them around so he could see all seven.
Seven, he thought. His brows knitted together and he groaned as he reflected on his foolishness.
He had tried seven times to draw her. But each time something was off. Her hair didn’t fall the right way or her eyes didn’t shine as they should. And then there was the issue of what to say, how to sign it. He remembered the words echoing in his head. What do I say to the woman who is supposed to hate me?
His shoulders tensed as his mind wandered. She hates me.
He stood from the chair and shoved his hands across the desk effectively pushing everything to the floor.
Then the pain stopped. The tension fell from his shoulders and he let out a deep breath. He knew it would start again soon, so he braced himself on the edge of the desk.
Seconds later it returned, but this time it felt different. He was hot and his lungs felt like they were on fire.
Klaus lurched over the edge of the desk and coughed up columns of black smoke. He went to grab at his shirt, but flames assaulted his hands. The fire traveled up his arms and charred his skin in the process. Klaus’s eyes turned yellow and his fangs extended. He let the anger rush through his veins. This wouldn’t kill him.
A sadistic smile graced the edges of his lips as he fell to the floor. He may not die, but those responsible for this feeble attempt at his life would suffer ten fold.
When I wake, he thought, the Salvatore’s best be ready.
hey guys friendly reminder from your fave Canadian that esk*mo is a slur so please don’t use it!
I see it usually in the context of “esk*mo kisses” which may pop up when people talk about their ships and their headcanon, but it means “snow eaters” in cree and is a slur against Inuit people so please just don’t use it!
and I would appreciate if u reblogged this because people outside Canada don’t seem to know this for the most part
Also if you want to refer to ‘‘eskimo kisses’‘ and not use that term the Inuit term for it is ‘‘kunik’‘. It’s a traditional greeting usually between relatives or a child and an adult, although it’s a little different from nose kisses so most Canadians call it ‘‘Inuit kiss’‘ and I’ve heard other people call it ‘‘bunny kisses’’. Either way there’s no excuse to use ‘‘eskimo’‘ in this context or another.
Thanks for telling us Americans definitely have no idea, so it’s good information.
“Don’t call Trump supporters nazis, it hurts their feelings.”
Yes, this is real (link to tweet). Yes, Tucker Carlson is literally repeating Nazi propaganda that aided the genocide of the Romani during the Holocaust. Yes, I am furious.
(Also, although there is a large population of Romani in Romania, they aren’t indigenous to Romania. They’re a diasporic group originally from northern India.)
Romani and Jewish have been screaming at the top of their lungs for years about neo-fascism in Europe, and Americans were totally aloof.
Then neo-fascism reared its head in America, but Roma and Jews were left out of the conversation in terms of people being impacted, because our oppression was “over.”
Now Tucker Carlson is on live TV using slurs and Nazi propaganda about Romani people, and I’m 90% most people on the left are just going to ignore it.
It’s fucking starting y'all. It’s happening again.
If you’re not Jewish or Roma PLEASE BOOST THIS.
i may be druk but my unicorn pillow is looking extra sexy
This Pride, don’t forget about us
ID: “This Pride remember to respect all trans people : Trans women who don’t shave with a drawing of a woman whit a yellow and pink beard, trans men who don’t bind, masculine trans women and feminine trans men with a drawing of a trans woman with short pink hair wearing a yellow baseball T-shirt holding hands with a trans man with a yellow crop top and short curly blue hair, fat trans people with the drawing of a fat trans woman with short white hair, dark skin and a pink cropped top, disabled trans people with a drawing of a wheelchair and a walking cane in the color of the trans flag, neurodivergent trans people with the symbol of the autistic community, trans people who are sex worker with a drawing of blue bra and pink underwear, poor trans people who can’t afford transition, trans people who aren’t out yet with a drawing of a closed door, trans people who don’t plan on transitioning, black trans people with a black fist holding a trans flag, and any trans people who isn’t white with multiple hands of different skin tones, muslim trans people with a drawing of someone wearing a hijab in the color of the trans flag, jewish trans people with a drawing of someone wearing a white shirt and a kippah in the color of the trans flag, non binary people even those who don’t identify as trans with the non binary flag, those whose identity you might not understand with the genderfluid flag, the agender flag, the demi gender flag and the genderqueer flag, trans people who don’t pass and don’t want to with a drawing of a trans woman with a beard and dark skin raising her fist, every pronouns with dialog box in which are different sets of pronouns, trans people of every identity with the gay flag, the lesbian flag, the ace flag, the bi flag, the pan flag and the aro flag, every trans person is beautiful and deserving of so much love so don’t forget the T.” End ID
P.S. : can someone tell me if I did the image description right cuz I have no idea