#Daniel Grant made me understand the emotion my dog must feel when I take away a toy she desperately wants to chew on

[entomolog-t]

GtWAC Day 1:

Reblog your go to comfort fic

If you have not read The Stranding (and by extension, The Rescue) by the darling @belethlegwen you are deeply missing out! The sheer amount of content is truly a blessing, and considering its still being updated?? ASDFJHSLK

Belle is an incredible story teller, and this shines through in her writing so well I feel like I'm getting flashbanged by talent.

You know that typical writing advice about not introducing too many characters, especially early on as it divides the reader's attention?? BELLE STOMPS ON THAT.

AND

IT

WORKS

I genuinely can't get over how much I am in love with her characters. I must admit- I am the typical reader with one too many bonks to the head that can't seem to focus on/ remember/ care about more than 3-5 characters- that is not the case here.

Every character she introduces has my interest piqued- each one feeling alive and at home in their setting. And its not just likeable in the sense of "oh I'd be friends with them" (and she absolutely has many characters I'd love to be friends with)- its these raw and real characterizations that make you like them as a character.

They have their own mystery to them too- even if its not direct. Her characters make you wonder more about their past and why they act the way they do. They can be frustrating, immature, stubborn, even cruel- but they feel so deeply real.

Both written works from Sizeable Ship Wrecks are among my favorite things I've read- both inside and outside of the G/t sphere to the point I feel as though I could shamelessly recommend this to someone outside of the G/t community and be confident they would enjoy it.

[jamesginortonblog]

By Ben Lawrence

James Norton has cut-glass cheekbones, hair that’s an artistic shade of blond and light brown eyes across which emotions drift like rain clouds. He is constantly objectified by female fans (the curious should look out for websites with names such as Norton Addiction), and yet it is the words of his great-aunt, Grainne, which resonate most clearly for the 31-year-old actor. “She said she couldn’t understand why I looked so good on TV because she thought I looked so bland in real life.”

Only someone with a healthy dollop of self-esteem would admit to being thought of as bland, and indeed there is a lack of neurosis about Norton, which I imagine  serves him well in a fickle industry. “I look at some people, men and women, who are breathtakingly beautiful and I know they will always play the romantic lead. I did get a jawline at some point, but I don’t feel limited by the roles I’ve been offered. I feel that I’ve been entrusted with parts that are more than just me being the matinee idol.”

Those roles, to date, have included the tragic, brilliant young aristocrat Andre, searching for a sense of purpose away from the ballrooms of St Petersburg in War and Peace; the psychotic thug Tommy Lee Royce in Sally Wainwright’s Happy Valley; and Sidney Chambers, the unworldly, questing, jazz-loving vicar of detective series Grantchester, which returns in a couple of weeks. That show, set in Fifties Cambridge, has been occasionally dismissed as cosy heritage television, but Norton will defend it to the hilt.

“People’s perception is that it’s saccharine and sugar-coated, but really it doesn’t pull any punches and shows how far we’ve come – the fact that a gay man could be sent to prison, the deep-rooted racism – those suffocating parts of the Fifties that we’ve been able to leave behind.” Norton, however, is not simply upbraiding the past. His immersion in the role of Sidney has made him wonder if we are inclined to take our modern freedoms for granted and, indeed, whether the thing we might compartmentalise as “mindfulness” today was a fundamental part of mid-20th-century living. “You see moments of stillness in Sidney, where he is lost in prayer or thought or wrangling with the existential stuff. No one does that anymore. We don’t have enough boredom.”

Faith has been a thread throughout Norton’s life. He was raised a Catholic and, at 13, attended Ampleforth College, known as the Catholic Eton. “My school was archaic, I mean we were surrounded by monks who had taken their vows of celibacy and poverty and dedicated their lives to the rule of St Benedict. But they were also inspirational, particularly when you’re a teenager and confused about a lot of things. I remember one guy who had been in a band and had given up his rock and roll lifestyle in order to live in an abbey in North Yorkshire. To be surrounded by people like him was terribly affecting.”

Norton is no longer a practising Catholic, although he admits to being still intellectually curious about the faith that shaped his formative years. He admires the way in which Pope Francis is dragging Catholicism into the 21st century and believes that institutionalised religion is often a necessity. “It is a human construct, and although it’s fallible, it is a crucial way for some people to explore their sense of the divine.”

He also believes it can offer more: “Through my parents, I met a vicar who was a traditional Anglican and I went to see him at his church. What struck me was that they [his parishioners] turned to him for more than just spiritual guidance. He is a remarkable force in that little community.” While filming Grantchester, Norton says that it has become clear that fans sometimes blur fiction and reality. When the position of vicar at the real Grantchester became vacant, he had a letter suggesting he might apply. When he’s on set, dressed in a dog collar and robed, people come up to him and start asking him about a thorny passage in, for example, Mark, Chapter V. I suggest that he might be well-equipped to engage, given that he graduated from Cambridge with a degree in theology.

“Honestly, I would have no idea,” he laughs. “Much of my degree was in Hinduism or Buddhism, I’m really not up on Christian theology.” It must be strange, I say, that Norton is back in a city which was a defining part of his past, but is now inhabiting a fictional world. “I take Robson [Green, who plays Sidney’s sidekick Geordie Keating] and other members of the production punting on the Cam and give them my version of the Cambridge tour, which is basically just people falling out of trees or jumping over bridges. It’s nice to have the opportunity to be nostalgic and share that with new friends.”

Grantchester has done for Cambridge what Inspector Morse did for Oxford and Norton says that filming can become incredibly intense when a crowd gathers. He hasn’t experienced anything that would suggest stalking and believes the goodness of Sidney’s character filters down to the show’s fans. Has he received marriage proposals? He is, after all, perfect husband material. “I am definitely not perfect husband material,” says Norton.

I say that I mean his character, Sidney, but Norton seems unsure. “I don’t know. He’s got commitment issues and any woman would have to be a lover of Sidney Bechet…”

Norton has a dry sense of humour and seems determined not to take himself too seriously. He lives in Peckham and is dating his War and Peace co-star Jessie Buckley who, one assumes, is sanguine about his female fans. One only wonders at the eruption of hysteria should Norton become James Bond. His is a name that surfaces at regular intervals in the speculation over who replaces Daniel Craig. Has he thought about it?

“Well, of course, if the question is asked it does make you think about it,” he says. “I mean, there is so much madness about the whole thing, but it is always very flattering to be part of the conversation.”

For now, Norton is busy enough. His projects include a remake of the seminal Nineties hit film Flatliners, in which he co-stars with Ellen Page. Back then, to that question of looks which will become more pertinent as Norton’s stock continues to rise. “You can play up to the looks thing, but I think, ultimately, you have autonomy in how you define your career. Anyway, I think I look quite normal.” Great-aunt Grainne would be proud.

[kidsviral-blog]

How To Be A Friend To Someone Who Has Had A Miscarriage

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/how-to-be-a-friend-to-someone-who-has-had-a-miscarriage/

How To Be A Friend To Someone Who Has Had A Miscarriage

Advice from people who’ve been there.

We recently asked the BuzzFeed community to share the best ways to be there for someone who has experienced a miscarriage.

Here are some of their responses.

View this image ›

Alice Mongkongllite / Via BuzzFeed

1. Show your support with food.

“People dropping off meals was exactly what we needed. It showed us that they wanted to take care of us at a time we couldn’t really do much for ourselves.” — Kristyn Hilker Hollingsworth, Facebook

“Please provide a meal for us…no one even offered and I didn’t want to get off the couch. A nice, warm meal would have meant the world.” –Emily Sutton, Facebook

“I am going through a miscarriage right now. A home-cooked meal would be amazing.” –Tessa Bryce

If you’re not much of a cook or don’t live close enough to bring food over, you could also send a gift card to a local restaurant that delivers.

2. Say, “It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t try to brainstorm for a reason the miscarriage might have happened. Many women look for anything to blame for their miscarriage, and since it is her body that was carrying the baby, they often come around to blaming themselves. This can be a crippling and devastating conclusion to come to, and it is most likely a false assumption. The vast majority of miscarriages cannot be prevented in any way. So tell her it’s not her fault. And never, never try to blame her for it, or make a statement about what she should have done differently.” —ethanv494db7b82

3. Don’t make “at least” statements.

“Any sentence that starts with, ‘At least you…’ is not an empathetic response. I suggest saying something like, ‘I can’t imagine what you must be going through. If there is anything you need let me know.'” —kmoy126

“Don’t ever start a sentence with, ‘At least…’ I was told by a friend just yesterday, ‘At least you didn’t have to suffer the stretch marks!’ Fucking really?” –Jennifer Roland, Facebook

4. If they are using their baby’s name, follow their lead.

“It’s not like I wanted to talk about the details but I wanted to acknowledge that she existed. She was still my daughter. She had a name, a personality, things that had been bought for her, and my husband and I held her still little body.” —emct86

“My son was stillborn and people walked away from me like I had done something wrong. All I wanted was for someone to give me a hug and tell me they were there for me. I love hearing people mention my son Matthew’s name… Please say his name to me; it hurts more when I believe he is forgotten.” –Hazel Diane Flint, Facebook

“My friends had a star named after the baby we lost.” —llordan

“Acknowledge the baby was a very real person to the mother. It was a person with a future that the mother imagined. My daughter had a personality in there and I knew it better than anyone. Ask about it.” —jenniferm4068840b9

5. Validate that the loss, and the grief, are real.

“Don’t trivialize it based on how early the miscarriage happened. Six weeks or 16 weeks, the emotional pain is intense.” —Amy S.

“Often, women who experience miscarriages early on in their pregnancy are told that it ‘wasn’t really a baby yet’ and their right to grieve is attacked. Reassuring women that they are still mothers, they still lost a child, and it is perfectly OK to feel terrible is something women need to hear during such a tough time.” —GeorgieBear16

“First, validate their loss and their love for this baby. It is not a time to split hairs over what constitutes an embryo versus a fetus versus a ‘real baby.’ To the parents grieving this loss, it is a baby. Always. Every time. End of discussion.” –Angela Gomes Plaisted, Facebook

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Alice Mongkongllite / Via BuzzFeed

6. Say SOMETHING.

“Just don’t ignore me. Just saying you’re sorry is enough; I was so heartbroken by the family members who never even called me.” –Danielle Fala Regan, Facebook

“A simple ‘I’m here if you need to talk’ is an amazing gesture. They may not want to talk but they know they have support.” —Singrrr

“She may not want to talk but a quick voicemail or text from a friend just to let them know that they are thinking about them is all you need to hear sometimes. She will call back when she is ready to talk.” –Jen, Facebook

7. Avoid cliches like “Everything happens for a reason” or “God has a plan.”

“Being told that your miscarriage is ‘all a part of God’s plan’ is absolutely awful to hear. People don’t say that at the funeral of a 12-year-old, so why do people find it acceptable to say after a miscarriage?” –Kathryn Matte, Facebook

“It’s not helpful when people tell you, ‘It’s just not your time,’ or say, ‘At least you know you can get pregnant.’ It is helpful when people acknowledge how much it sucks and how disappointing and devastating is to suddenly come crashing down from the high of planning for a new life.” —sophievariann

“Please stop saying that everything happens for a reason. It still makes me want to scream when I hear that.” —katiebeacomh

“When people said, ‘God knows best,’ or ‘Everything happens for a reason,’ it made me angrier with God, and made me question myself and my faith, like I was being punished or if He turned His back on me.” —Cherry Pitbull

8. Remember that fathers need support too.

“There are two parents involved, and though the woman may be going through the most physical trauma, the father will be experiencing his own share of emotional pain and should be granted just as much support.” — GeorgieBear16

“Don’t forget to give the dad some support. When this happened to friends of mine, everybody was, of course and rightly concerned and supportive of the mother, but her poor husband was also heartbroken and trying to stay strong for his wife. I have to say I felt so bad for both of them.” —og4d335e4c5

9. And siblings, when appropriate.

“Don’t forget about the siblings (if any). My mom had a miscarriage, and that baby was as real to me as any of my other siblings. It was a baby, plain and simple. I cried for days.” –Sarah Trice, Facebook

“See what you can do for the partner or any other children the parents have; ask to take the kids out for a day trip to give the parents time to themselves.” —pinkrobin

View this image ›

Alice Mongkongllite / Via BuzzFeed

10. Let them grieve privately if that’s their choice.

“Some people, myself included, don’t want a private thing like that to be made public or have any sort of big outpouring of sympathy. While it might be easier for some women or couples to grieve more openly, please be respectful that some people might not want to discuss it at all. I am the type of person who wants to chose my moments to let the emotion in and cry; I do not want to be brought to tears in a public place or when I am not ready for an outpouring of emotion. A handwritten card that the person can open at a moment of their choosing would be a good idea. Unless they have written about the miscarriage on social media, it is an absolute no-no to write them a publicly viewable message on Facebook.” –Jessica Calhoun, Facebook

“Don’t push the topic. Be supportive and as understanding as you can, but if it’s clear they don’t want to talk about it then respect that.” –Rachel Gesell, Facebook

“For god’s sake, if she says she doesn’t want to talk about it, don’t insist that talking will help. I couldn’t talk about it without breaking into sobs for a full year after miscarrying, and I didn’t want to explain what a blighted ovum was or why I’d made it to four months or listen to the bullshit about how I could try again.” —Jade Not

11. Offer to take care of errands or other tasks.

“Offer to do housework like laundry, which can pile up easily. If they had a nursery set up, ask if they would like help packing the things away or offer to do it for them if it’s too painful. (Of course, some may not want to take the room down until they are finished grieving, so tell them that you understand.)” —pinkrobin

12. Share your own story.

“If you’ve had a miscarriage, talking about it to other people who’ve had them is SO helpful. I had a lot of friends come to me privately and talk about it, and it helped me immensely. People often joke that women are bitches and competitive and gossipy. People who say that don’t realise how much women band together in things we’re not welcome to discuss openly and provide support for each other.” –Nancy Lorenz, Facebook

13. Give hugs.

“Hold their hands or hug them (because it could be a couple that’s grieving) and listen.” —emilys42496e8b7

“A hug and a reassurance that it’s a really horrid, unfair thing to have had happen.” —helend75

“Sometimes nothing can be said. Sometimes a really good hug can mean more than a thousand words.” —hannahw4d852b088

“If you run out of things to say, hugs and touch go a long way for some grieving women (but know the person you’re dealing with).” —amandal71

14. Do something personalized, that makes sense for them.

“The best thing that was ever said or done for me after one of my three miscarriages was when my best friend sent me a surprise gift of a DVD collection of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a T-shirt from Saved By The Bell, and a huge container of gummy bears. The gifts had nothing to do with my loss, but everything to do with a friend who knew me well enough to realize that married, 28-year-old me needed a touch of bizarre back in my life.” —ashleea4fd8166f5

15. Don’t talk about that time your dog died.

“I know pets are part of the family and when they die it’s heartbreaking, but please don’t compare that pain to a miscarriage.” —amyb48cfecba3

“Probably the worst thing was when someone compared it to losing a pet. However, a pet is not growing inside you one minute and not the next.” —shannonk4a4bdb969

“Don’t compare you losing your pet to them losing a child. I love my pets and grieved when I lost them, but nothing like losing my daughter.” –Alicia Maria Perrotti, Facebook

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Alice Mongkongllite / Via BuzzFeed

16. Send a card/text/email.

“I wasn’t really able to talk about what happened to us, but welcomed every text, email, or voicemail I received. Honestly just knowing someone was thinking of us and/or praying for us helped.” –Kristyn Hilker Hollingsworth, Facebook

“We have lost all of ours in pregnancy. The most meaningful thing anyone did for me was to send me a sympathy card. Not only did it help to know someone validated our loss, but it also gave me a physical memento as a keepsake of that baby.” –Sarah Elizabeth, Facebook

17. Don’t bring up future babies.

“Don’t say, ‘It’ll happen,’ because it may not happen.” –Rhianna Winn, Facebook

“Don’t refer to any future happiness (‘It’ll happen again’ — just because it happened this time doesn’t mean to say it will next); you won’t necessarily be made aware of how difficult it may have been to achieve the pregnancy that has just been lost. My two miscarriages have been as a result of IVF so actually getting pregnant was far from easy, and thinking about whether I had the strength to go through the whole process in the future just put me under the blackest of clouds.” —helend75

18. Ask how you can best support them.

“I’ve had 12 miscarriages and one stillbirth, and the one thing I wish someone would have done for me is simply to ask me if I need anything, even a shoulder to cry on.” –Jennifer Navarro, Facebook

19. Know that they’ll never forget their loss.

“Remember their lost child. Reach out to them around the anniversary of their loss to let them know you’re thinking of them.” –Becky Britz, Facebook

“It can hit you at anytime for years afterward and it’s OK to grieve.” –Emma Dwyer, Facebook

“Having gone through two miscarriages, each loss felt as though my heart were being ripped out. The pain was equally strong emotionally and physically. Each year, on their due date, I’ll think of those two babies that I should be loving, hugging, and laughing with.” —Kayla919

20. Remember it’s about them, not about you.

“Allow the griever to open up at their own pace and be there for them in the way that they need you and not the way you want to be there for them.” –Sidney, Facebook

“Be there for them on their terms, not yours.” –Angela Durant, Facebook

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Alice Mongkongllite / Via BuzzFeed

21. Give them time.

“NEVER give up on your friend. The friend who has miscarried may want to be alone for a little while, may not be herself. Time will heal, but do not let the time distance your friendship — if anything, let it allow you to become closer. ” –Jen, Facebook

Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/rachelwmiller/ways-to-support-someone-who-has-had-a-miscarriage