it's what daft punk would have wanted

@theartofmadeline

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YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Kaledo Art
cherry valley forever

Love Begins
todays bird

oozey mess
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap

blake kathryn
DEAR READER
Stranger Things

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Origami Around

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast
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seen from United States

seen from Colombia
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seen from United States
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@maggo77
it's what daft punk would have wanted
A pleasant surprise.
reblog if you support the warm cat
he is warm
File this under “super obvious yet I always seem to forget it.”
I don’t write romance (I totally respect people who do, though!) but this is also great writing advice in general! What is preventing the protagonist from achieving their goal?
Why can’t these two people be together now?
Why can’t the mystery be solved now?
Why can’t they overthrow the evil overlord now?
If you don’t have a solid answer for these questions, that’s a good indicator that the plot could use some more work.
Also test your answer a little bit. If it’s as thin as they’re just refusing to sit down and have a simple conversation, you might want to re-think how things are going.
As a beta reader/editor, I tend to ask this question a lot: “Why are they doing it this way when there’s a much easier path available?” That’s not to say that they should take the easier path, because that would usually be boring. Instead, the point is that the question needs an answer–either eliminate the easier path or give them a very clear reason for not taking it. (And if I’m asking the question, that reason isn’t as clear as you think it might be.)
I find it very difficult to root for characters who have a sensible option available and just don’t take it. If the only reason is “Because there wouldn’t be a story otherwise,” you haven’t actually found the story yet.
And this is why the Big Misunderstanding as a primary plot device is almost universally disliked.
Reblogging mostly for that last comment. The Big Misunderstanding is so annoying, and I still see it used even in the best fiction.
MUSICAL NOTATION, AS DESCRIBED BY CATS
(I would have liked to crop some of these gifs (like the accent ones) to make them more accurate but alas, I lack the skills.)
i never knew i needed this in my life until now
Professor: Do you know the definition of a string quartet?
Class:
Professor: A good violinist,
Professor: a bad violinist,
Professor: someone who used to be a violinist,
Professor: and someone who hates violinists,
Professor: all getting together to bitch about composers.
This was recorded by the Portsmouth Sinfonia in an experiment where all the members of the orchestra would swap instruments with each other and attempt to play them to the best of their ability.
favorite things about this
literally all the brass starts to get the hang of it and then the crescendos happen and everyone is like FUCK FUCK FUCK??? FUCK. JUST. BLOW RLY HARD.
the strings are lazy but also the same. like u can tell a lot of the ppl w/ the stringed instruments may already basically know how to play stringed instruments. like there’s definitely a section at the beginning where you hear a good portion going “oh yeah this is like. a smaller/bigger version of what i do.”
all you hear of any woodwinds is just “pffffttt??? pFFFTTTT???? PFFFFFTTTT I SAID PFFFFTTTT!!!!!” bc woodwinds are fucking HARD and you hear after like the first crescendo half of them just give up. they give up. they’re done. fuck this it tastes weird and my lips hurt.
that trumpet. that person is fucking TRYING man they fucking GOT this. they may not have figured out notes but they figured out LOUD and they GOT this.
I JUST DIED
I SEARCHED THIS POST FOR AGES OH MY GOD
reblog again
@thedragonconsumes
I asked my boyfriend in Canada once, how he deals with polar bears because I was curious about what to do and he was like, just be calm, let them know you’re there, and give them space and they’ll usually just go away.
In Finland on the other hand.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7_pVrIshxA
Lmao Finland Man ain’t taking shit from bears.
PERRrrRrrRrKELE
((Two kinds of people))
Is that fucking hetalia
Can we talk about this?!
HEY remember in WWII when Jewish people were fleeing Germany and the USA put a quota on how many Jewish immigrants they would accept because they were worried there were too many Jewish people coming over to the USA???
Reminder that the USA has always been fucking garbage to immigrants and basic humanity
Here’s how you can help:
Sign this petition calling for the investigation of the mass murder and torture of LGBT people in Chechnya
Support the Rainbow Railroad, actively involved in rescuing LGBTQ+ facing violence in their home countries
Read this article by out.com for more ways you can help stop Chechnya’s concentration camps
Please reblog this. There’s a lot of arguing in the reblogs/replies, but no links to actual concrete ways to become of help to these people.
Baby bat learns to fly!
this is my cause of death, I have transcended this realm
It looks like a baby dragon omg
@astrayysheep
I will never pass up the chance to reblog this.
i’m really glad i got a physical copy of this brand new game so i can download 60GB off the disc and then install an 11GB update and then go through all these opening logos to get to the main menu and then a 5 minute loading screen before finally getting into the 12 minute cutscene before playing the hour long tutorial teaching me how to play the game.
how did this get so many notes in just 10 minutes
Because it’s a cold truth we all suffer from
Tag yourself I’m the “Overdressed and Underappreciated”. Artist : http://www.mattadrian.com/
Big mood
I slept in and laughed way too much at this
THE NOISESSSSS LMFAOOOOOOOO
Died laughing!!! 😂
THE PUPPY FELL ASLEEP 😭
Here it is: how I got Horrible Histories banned from my school.
Sit down, I’m going to tell you a story.
Imagine a little girl, a 4’9” fifth grader with dimples and twinkling blue eyes. Oh, look, she’s going to the school library. Perhaps she’s going to rent Little Women, or read On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder!
Five minutes later, she exits the library holding a large stack of books called “Horrible Histories.”
And she’s thumbing through one called “Angry Aztecs.”
Record scratch. Freeze frame.
Yup, that’s me! The only history geek in a fifty mile radius. Living in Bumhicksville, Nowhere (name changed, but very accurate) is pretty terrible, and going to school at Caucasian Christian School of Goodness (again, a name change, but an apt description) is even worse. I snapped a bit while I was attending, due to the lack of permissible self-expression, but horrible histories were my guiding light.
Flash forward six months.
Our teacher wants us to do a history project about an ancient civilization. Since our curriculum is Eurocentricism.JPEG, most kids pick the Greeks or Romans (and completely skip over all of the good stuff, like orgies and gladiator fights) in their presentations.
I choose my favorite ancient civilization:
The Aztecs.
My teachers knew I’d been reading Horrible Histories, but what they didn’t know was that I’d also been avidly reading all about Aztec mythology. I walk up to the front of the class, pull on a turquoise skull mask, and raise my arms to the sky.
My teacher goes sheet white.
I give my presentation and skip nothing. Nothing. Every detail of the sacrifices, every dirty, disgusting part.
It all culminates when I point to the calendar.
“It’s May!” I shout, my little girl voice rising an octave. My teacher looks like she’s about to phone the police. “The Aztecs called May Toxcatl.”
No one moves or breathed. I continue blithely.
“Toxcatl was a month dedicated to the worship of the god of the night, Tezcatlipoca.” I’m still going. Everyone is afraid. Marie, one of my classmates, looks like she’s about to cry.
“They’d dress a brave warrior as the god all year, and at the end-“ I pull the red streamers out from behind my display, shouting: “They’d sacrifice him!”
The kids shriek as the streamers of “blood” roll out across the floor.
The principal walked in, hearing the commotion, just in time for me to really get into character and shout “BLOOD FOR THE GOD OF THE NIGHT!”
And that’s how Horrible Histories and all mentions of the Aztecs were banned from my school.
A fucking hero
“BLOOD FOR THE GOD OF NIGHT”
tiny little ones are amazing and also terrifying
BLOOD FOR THE GOD OF NIGHT
@words-writ-in-starlight
@unitlost this is us if we lived in nowhere
“Imagine having a child that refuses to hug you or even look you in the eyes”
Imagine being shamed, as a child, for not showing affection in a way that is unnatural or even painful for you. Imagine being forced, as a child, to show affection in a way that is unnatural or even painful for you. Imagine being told, as a child, that your ways of expressing affection weren’t good enough. Imagine being taught, as a child, to associate physical affection with pain and coercion.
As a preschool special ed para, this is very important to me. All my kids have their own ways of showing affection that are just as meaningful to them as a hug or eye contact is to you or me.
One gently squeezes my hand between both of his palms as he says “squish.” I reciprocate. When he looks like he’s feeling sad or lost, I ask if I can squish him, and he will show me where I can squish him. Sometimes it’s almost like a hug, but most of the time, it’s just a hand or an arm I press between my palms. Then he squishes my hand in return, says “squish,” and moves on. He will come ask for squishes now, when he recognizes that he needs them.
Another boy smiles and sticks his chin out at me, and if he’s really excited, he’ll lean his whole body toward me. The first time he finally won a game at circle time, he got so excited he even ran over and bumped chins with me. He now does it when he sees me outside of school too. I stick out my chin to acknowledge him, and he grins and runs over and I lean down for a chin bump.
Yet another child swings my hand really fast. At a time when another child would be seeking a hug, she stands beside me and holds my hand, and swings it back and forth, with a smile if I’m lucky. The look on her face when I initiate the hand swinging is priceless.
Another one bumps his hip against mine when he walks by in the hallway or on the playground, or when he gets up after I’m done working with him. No eye contact, no words, but he goes out of his way to “crash” into me, and I tell him that it’s good to see him. He now loves to crash into me when I’m least expecting it. He doesn’t want anything, really. Just a bump to say “Hi, I appreciate you’re here.” And when he’s upset and we have to take a break, I’ll bump him, ask if he needs to take a walk, and we just go wander for a bit and discuss whatever’s wrong, and he’s practically glued to my side. Then one more bump before we go back into the room to face the problem.
Moral of the story is, alternative affection is just as valid and vitally important as traditional affection. Reciprocating alternative affection is just as valid and vitally important as returning a hug. That is how you build connections with these children.
This is so goddamn important.
I verbally express affection. A LOT.
My husband… doesn’t. I don’t know why. For the longest time part of me wondered if it meant he loved me less.
At some point I told him about a thing I had done as a kid. Holding hands, three squeezes means ‘I Love You’.
Suddenly he’s telling me I Love You all the time.
Holding my hand, obviously, but also randomly.
taptaptap
on my hand, my shoulder, my butt, my knee, whatever body part is closest to him, with whatever part of him is closest to me
All the time.
More often than I ever verbally said it.
It’s an ingrained signal now, I can tap three times on whatever part of him, and get three taps back in his sleep. Apparently I do the same.
It’s made a huge difference for us.
People say things differently.