#Historical Times

[mudwerks]

your grandkids are gonna be sooo tired of learning about the historic period of 2016-2024 when they're in high school

[alexandriad]

jumping on the bandwagon with an ancient greek miku

[gwydionmisha]

Sorcerer Monks and Rat Lawyers: Wild Crimes in Historical Times

[lackadaisycal-art]

I'm getting so sick of major female characters in historical media being incredibly feisty, outspoken and public defenders of women's rights with little to no realistic repercussions. Yes it feels like pandering, yes it's unrealistic and takes me out of the story, yes the dialogue almost always rings false - but beyond all that I think it does such a disservice to the women who lived during those periods. I'm not embarrassed of the women in history who didn't use every chance they had to Stick It To The Man. I'm not ashamed of women who were resigned to or enjoyed their lot in life. They weren't letting the side down by not having and representing modern gender ideals. It says a lot about how you view average ordinary women if the idea of one of your main characters behaving like one makes them seem lame and uninteresting to you.

[noknowshame]

why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?

[yourangle-yuordevil]

That time in ancient Greece when Aziraphale needed a speedy horse and accidentally invented the pegasus

VS.

Whatever Crowley had going on in medieval times

[dianastevanblog]

Wrapping Up Writing

Year-end is a good time for wrapping up writing and more. With holiday celebrations in full swing, there’s too much going on to concentrate on finishing a work-in-progress, or starting a new one. I find writing breaks useful, a time for reflection. My thoughts about story never stop, but while Christmas carols are being sung on the radio, I also reflect on the promise of peace this season…

[maliciouscigarette]

The sack of Rome, August 24th 410 CE, colourised.

Art by Psicochurroz

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

people who don't study history will simply never understand the joy of reading historian beef. there's nothing like it

[forecast0ctopus]

happy 57th anniversary to spock and kirk writhing in the sand

[bittsandpieces]

forgot to post this one the other day

[cy-lindric]

Progress on my current project ! Having some with stripes and slashing this time around. Didn't take any progress photos for the hosen/pants because it broke my brain a little, lol. I also started doing fingerloop braiding for the lacing cords.

I still have to fix a few things on there, including fixation on the brustfleck, and after that onwards to making the hat !

[canisalbus]

They need a bigger bathtub.

[marzipanandminutiae]

quotes by Victorians about the 1920s view of their generation's women

"We are frequently told that the Victorian woman...generally behaved like a pampered and neurotic infant. This is all moonshine. I do not think that I ever saw a woman faint before I came to London in 1869, and not often after then...they enjoyed a hearty laugh, and a good many of them a contest of wits with any man." -Nineteenth Century, a Monthly Review, 1927 (written by a man born in 1850)

"What queer ideas the girl of 1929 has about the Victorian period- they are not a bit true...Marriage was by no means the end and aim of our existence. Oxford and Cambridge claimed quite a few of us after school days were over. We had great ideas about 'life' and what it all might mean to us." -St. Petersburg Times, 1929 (written by a woman born in 1853)

"True, debutantes were chaperoned at balls. But that fact did not prevent them from dancing as frequently as they chose with their favorite partners. The idea that girls in the Victorian era spent their days sewing seams and practicing scales is another fallacy." -Gettysburg Times, July 1, 1927 (quote from the Dowager Lady Raglan, Ethel Jemima Somerset, who lived from 1857 to 1940)

[nkogneatho]

This is a PSA for all the writers who exclusively write only fluff and angst:

we love you. we still read your fics. no we don't care if it doesn't have smut in it. it is still valid and it is beautiful. thank you for existing. have a good day.

[shushmal]

tw: for implied past emotional abuse, im in my feels today

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Hopper growls. He's not quite shouting, but he's still loud, raised voice echoing through the living room. "She's not ready to drive yet, I forbade it, and what? You two decided that you knew better?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, but gamely keeps quiet. He knows Hopper's less upset with Ellie taking a spin through the parking lot and more upset about the property damage. Eddie's on her side though, that phone pole came out of nowhere. Must have been pretty rotted out too, to fall over that easily after a little love tap.

Ellie had done a damn good job fixing the huge dent in the bumper.

But if Hopper wants to be dramatic and chew everyone involved out, Eddie's not going to stop him. Whatever gets the guy's blood pressure back down.

"You're supposed to be responsible adults! Especially you, Steve!"

Rolling his eyes again, Eddie glances over, hoping to share a commiserating look with Steve.

Except Steve isn't looking anywhere but down, shoulders and spine ruler straight. Eddie stalls there, stuck on the way Steve's standing, tense from jaw down to his ankles, his hands balled into tight fists flat at his side, knuckles white. Hopper keeps ranting, pacing a wide circle in front of them, but Steve doesn't flinch, doesn't look up, doesn't react. It's like all the color has washed from him.

"Are you even listening?!"

"Yes, sir," Steve says tightly. He doesn't look up. Hopper keeps going.

Eddie watches as Steve's throat works to swallow, like he's choking. Like he can't breathe.

"Hopper," Eddie snaps. "Shut the fuck up."

Hopper whirls on him, livid, but Eddie's not looking at him, fixed on Steve as he reaches out. Tries to take Steve's hand, just holds his wrist when Steve can't unclench his fist, gentle as he touches him. Steve is tightly wound and trembling under his fingers.

When he looks, Eddie finds Hopper with deep regret on his face, struck silent. He doesn't say anything when Eddie leads Steve away, back out onto the porch. They sit on the swing, Eddie's arm around Steve's shoulders, rocking back and forth until the muscles loosen and Steve slumps, strings cut, into Eddie's side. They'll sit like that for a while more, watching the woods as the sun sets and listening to the dusk settle, crickets and cicadas and chats calling the moon up, filling their silence with nighttime music.

Later, Hopper will come out, temper cooled, and sit on Steve's other side. Will ruffle Steve's hair when Steve starts to stiffen. Will apologize when Steve eyes him warily.

Later, Eddie will scowl and glare, but ultimately keep quiet, unwilling to make the whole thing worse for Steve, another fight, another shouting match. Will stiltedly tell Hopper good night and take Steve home, wait patiently until Steve finally speaks, when he finally tells Eddie a little more and a little more, until Eddie's holding him tight.

That's later though. For now, he digs his heel into the porch, rocking them back and forth, and waits for Steve to breathe.