I'm an eNFp, Gryffinpuff, amature aerial silkest/ bartender/ student/ southern belle with a.d.d., a thing for Prince Harry, and a mad urge to ship just about everyone. I follow everyone back! (though possibly not immediately bc I don't always pay attention¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
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Reblogged from phfanfic-againstheodds  35 notes

Chapter Sixty Six Part One


A/N: Okay. I posted a ‘preview’ for the next chapter a few days ago. And then things happened and the chapter got REALLY long there was so much jammed in and I realized I was going to need to split it. So, the ‘preview’ I posted the other day will actually be in part two of this chapter and not in the part I’m posting tonight. BUT…the good news is that this part contains some important stuff and that the next part is mostly written so it shouldn’t take more than a day or two. Until then…enjoy the beginning of the honeymoon!


When Alex woke the morning after the wedding, it wasn’t the light that was beginning to stream through the heavy draperies that had pulled her from her deep, contented sleep. The hands that belonged to the man behind her were warm and soft and searching as they ran over her curves, rousing her body awake before her mind was.

“Mmmm…” She shifted under his hands and a slow smile tilted up her lips.

“Mmmm…” he echoed with a smile of his own. His hands tightened on her and pulled her closer, his front pressing to her back. “Hi…” he breathed against her ear just before his lips dipped to the curve of her neck and pressed a hot, opened mouth kiss on her sensitive skin.

Read More

Reblogged from lyannahstarks  270,238 notes


Being a nice person is so fun

Waiter messes something up? You can see the relief on their faces when you don’t scream and swear at them about it

Extra tickets at an arcade/prize place? Watch a little kid’s face light up when you give them a bunch of tickets

There are too many assholes in this world. Be a nice person.

Oscar 2015 Best Animated Feature





That Moment you realise THESE can be the 2014 Oscar nominees


imageFor me… these are all great movies and it will be very difficult to choose the best one.

but then you remember that the voters look at that image and see this:


Reblogging for the painfully accurate second pic

the amount of disrespect animation gets in hollywood is fucking ridiculous.

Reblogged from phff  220,072 notes

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.


Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)

When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.

(via bookoisseur)

I’m really glad I read that.

(via selfesteampunk)