#hearts. it's kind of intense

[lunarharp]

played dragon age 2...just simple scribbles

[strryhaze]

bobby & david kennedy

“There was some level on which David tapped his father’s sensitivity. You would find him walking with David or with his arm around David. David just seemed to need it.”

— chuck mcdermott.

“If his father’s death hit David harder than the others, it was because there had been a special bond between them—both were the runts of the litter, sandwiched into the middle of a large family. He was the only one in the family who hadn’t been enthusiastic about the run for the presidency. For weeks after his father’s announcement, David had been plagued by recurring nightmares about Bobby’s death. Distraught over episodes that seemed premonitory, and missing the special attention his father had given him, David had gotten in trouble for throwing rocks at cars passing by Hickory Hill. The day of the California primary, he had joined his father in Los Angeles. The two of them had been swimming and he had felt himself being carried out by the undertow when his father grabbed him, scraping his own head on the ocean floor as he reached for David’s slippery arm. With a teenager’s melodrama, David had decided that he owed his father a life and would look for an opportunity to pay him back in the years ahead. That night as he sat in front of the television set in his room in the Ambassador Hotel and watched [his father] bleeding on the floor downstairs, one of the thoughts he had was that the debt would be forever undischarged.”

“As the worst year of their young lives came to a close, they decided to surprise their mother at Christmas with a book comprised of letters about their father. David’s said: ‘Daddy was very funny in church because he would embarrass all of us by singing very loud. Daddy did not have a very good voice. There will be no more football with Daddy, no more swimming with him, no more riding and no more camping with him. But he was the best father there ever was and I would rather have him for a father for the length of time I did than any other father for a million years.”

— the kennedy’s, peter collier & david horowitz.

“David looked at himself in those pictures like they were a strange sort of mirror. He looked at them half a dozen times at least, mesmerized by them, and he kept asking me questions. There was a tremendous desire to know his father, to really know him.”

— john seigenthaler.

“David and Bobby were so close. They were inseparable. David was small, a runt like Bobby had been.” Ethel then explained to Noelle (her secretary) that David had always been a very sensitive youngster, very introverted, "not like the other boys. He and I would go and pick flowers while his brothers were killing each other with their crazy games", Ethel recalled with a smile.

— ethel kennedy.

“I think about death a lot. Time hasn’t erased the death of my father from my mind. My family thinks I’m no good and that I’ll never beat my problem. They’ve written me off. I’m trying to get it together, but it’s so difficult. I’m having a terrible time at it. And the thing I want most in the world is the approval of my family, but they want nothing to do with me. All I want is to be with my father.”

— david kennedy, april 1984.

“Like his family, his friends had all wondered at one time or another if he would kill himself; but when it finally came his death was nonetheless shocking. ‘I keep asking myself why. Why David? Why now? All I can come up with is that maybe his father was looking down from heaven and saw all the hell these people were putting him through and said, ‘Come on, You’ve suffered enough. It’s time you were up here with me.’”

— nancy narleski.

Years after David Kennedy’s death, his cousin, Patrick Kennedy recalled a haunting and heartbreaking recollection he had with his father, Teddy, sitting beside his cousin’s casket: “My father remembered Bobby telling him that, as a father, he needed to spend more time with David. He also recounted a story Uncle Bobby had told him just before his own death. On the day before the California primary, the Robert Kennedys had gone swimming in Malibu, to relax together. David had been knocked over by a wave and got caught in the undertow, and his father had come to his rescue. When Uncle Bobby told my father this story, he talked about ‘the undertow’ in broader terms, how there was an undertow in life and David, who was only then thirteen, already seemed vulnerable to it. And then, just hours later, Uncle Bobby was murdered as David watched the TV coverage in their hotel room upstairs. It was unbelievably poignant to hear my father tell this story. David was in the casket next to us. And I wasn’t that much older than David when his father worried whether he could survive the undertow.”

[if-you-heart]

heart doodle from last night during a convo about the guy. he reminds me of that azula scene from avatar, you know the one. i am extremely normal about this character. that and i love drawing intense expressions

[russell-crowe]

i have been listening to quite a bit of U2 today and now the age old question of "which member is actually my fave?" has resurfaced

[itspileofgoodthings]

I go off about Catholic/christian religious influencers of all kinds and I do so for many reasons but one of the main ones is just. the feeling they’re selling (and it is a feeling and they’re selling it, even if just for views) it doesn’t feel like that for everyone. That whole simplistic set-up of struggle struggle struggle, breakthrough, clarity, emotional peace, tears streaming down the face. That’s not real. Or at least it’s not real much of the time in MANY cases and even when it is real that isn’t the only part or the most important part of having a relationship with God. It’s probably the least important part, the feeling. and so it fills me with RAGE when the emotional part of religion is sold and packaged and paraded and presented on Instagram as “inspiration”! it distorts the whole reality of a relationship with God and puts a literal and figurative Instagram filter over the whole thing.

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I am thinking about trying to get back in the habit of hitting the punching bag* more regularly, both because I used to love practicing martial arts and because I am hoping it will help turn slow tigers into fast tigers with this one neat trick** What music do you suggest to hit/kick a punching bag to? So far the best song I've found for it tempo-wise is "I Was Made For Loving You" by Kiss, because the drums/bass work really well to keep me from going too fast*** *once again I am confused about what verb to use for that. Kicking? Attacking? Practicing with???? **aka that one post about ending a physiological stress response by tricking your brain into thinking you'd defeated a short term stressor like a tiger ***because of the sodium Georg issues my heart likes to go fast and if I punch too much too fast it goes too fast and then I have to sit down and the metaphorical tigers win the fight lol

[firstroseofspring]

excerpts on the tradition of klingon opera from the introduction of the paq'batlh

[mickedy]

happy birthday oswald

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[clockwork-carstairs]

Remember when Tessa and Jem were in the carriage on the way back from the battle at the start of clockwork princess? And Tessa’s worrying over Jem bec he’s injured and weak, and he lightly holds her wrist and smiles and gently says your pulse is quickening and Tessa says, “I love you.” And it’s just such a tender and moving moment because they’ve both got their hearts on their SLEEVES for each other. Jessa were always so romantic.

[wildsaltair]

Russell Crowe as Egan // The Silver Brumby (1993)

[jazzy-a]

Imagine Calypso wasn't just being poetic when she started singing "Not Sorry For Loving You."

Imagine she is actually repeating verbatim what Hermes said to her. They don't fight, but Hermes does twist the proverbial knife in, so to speak.

Imagine Hermes actually came down with a smile on his face and no sympathy as he told her that he was taking Odysseus away, that she would never get to see his face again, and that he was not hers to have.

Imagine if she argued with him, and Hermes only shrugged, saying that "[she] ambushed him and came on too strong, so [she] shouldn't be surprised if he hates [her]."

AKA an AU where Hermes is cruel when he tells Calypso that Odysseus is being set free from the island.

[chibishortdeath]

Recent doodles cause I was sick so obviously I had to give that to the vampire hunter man. The transfer was mostly successful btw, the headaches are less frequent d(^^)

Text and other ranting ⬇️

This one has no text. It’s just Simon waking up a little feverish— I was going to draw him getting out of bed and other longer character interaction comic stuff, but I uh was also having the head pain at the time 💀💀💀. Maybe someday later.

Simon is in like a robe or housecoat and saying “I-I’m all alright” and there’s a bit in parentheses under him that says “says guy who is clearly ill”. Then there’s a littler doodle of him doing the unsteady walk you do when you’re sick sometimes in his pjs—

The text is as follows: (Christopher) “oh my god— Simon, go lay down you are burning up.” (Simon) “immokayy” (Christopher) “you are swaying on your feet please—”. I think Simon would probably deny that he was anything less than in perfect health even when visibly not 💀. Or do the thing of “I’ve had worse” or “I can handle it” and like no, sir, what you’ve missed here is that part of handling it is rest, go lay down!!! Also Christopher is here because I just wanna see all the Belmonts getting to be a family and have significantly less responsibilities to deal with. Good lord do these guys need just a fun slice of life everyone is alive and well and we threw them into modern times AU holy shit… And also Christopher is Mr. Dad Guy Belmont, he’s definitely the guy out of all of them to be harping on someone to take care of themselves. Idk I feel like he gets extra dad vibes having been the guy allowed to be a dad on screen lol. Although I could see most of them doing this for someone though, so Simon has to go through like a whole maybe 5 other dudes insisting that he go rest and following him to make sure he’s alright. That whole denial thing is not going to work 💀. I’m thinking maybe I should draw that huh, ok another one on the ever growing list—

[good-beanswrites]

"Prisoner @waivyjellyfish ! Milgramblrgram has judged you guilty for your crimes! It is time to meet your judgement. As the wardens' fang, I take that responsibility upon myself!" (Muahaha -- Es angst for you 👊)

Es clutched at their head. Their fingers tore through their hair. It was the middle of the night, so they resisted the urge to shout. They didn’t want to draw any attention to themself. If they remained completely silent, though, they wouldn’t need to refrain from crying.

And so they cried.

You see, there is only one sensation worse than waking up from an awful dream: waking up from a very, very, good one. 

Es had grown accustomed to the nightmares that Milgram produced. In these dreams, Es might take the place of the prisoners. Their stomach would twist with horror at the blood on their hands. Other times, they found themselves in the victim’s shoes. They’d wake in a cold sweat, feeling hands closing around their throat, or weapons swung at their temple. 

But they weren’t prepared for a dream of absolute peace. They were happy. They were laughing. There were people nearby, smiling. It was all emotion and no detail – not a single face, place, or voice, was clear – but they knew for sure what the dream had consisted of.

Es was with their family. 

They choked out another sob. 

For the longest time, they wondered if they even had a past to remember. But that was all foolishness – Milgram was in the business of judging humans, not creating them out of thin air. They’d tried asking Jackalope, once. He turned out just as cryptic as some of the prisoners in their interrogations. Another time, they had considered using the prison’s mysterious machine on themself. There was no way to operate it alone, though. And when it came down to it, they were always alone.

They curled themself tight, dragging the bedsheets with them. Usually when they wondered about their past, mere curiosity washed over them. Now, they were flooded with an entirely new type of longing. It filled their chest. No, that wasn't it. Rather, the feeling left a wide hole through them.

If they did have a family, had Es been stolen away? Could there be someone else out there right now, crying in the middle of the night, just as hard as Es was crying for them? The thought was not comforting.

Or, like Es, had they forgotten all traces of their connection? That possibility also did more harm than good.

Es tried to reassure themself – if this family hadn’t come looking for them, maybe it meant they weren't wanted in the first place. Maybe Es had been willingly turned over to Milgram, their parents glad to be rid of them.

That thought didn't help at all.

Something clattered out in the corridor. That must have been what woke them. They rose from bed, ready to raise hell. How dare one of the prisoners rip them from such a dream. Es could never return. The offender would pay for this. 

It took only a moment to put on their uniform and wipe the tears from their cheeks. They swung the door open to find Haruka stumbling down the hall. 

“Prisoner number one, what the –” they grabbed his arm. Only then did they notice the dazed look in his eyes. His body flinched, waking from what must have been sleepwalking.

“Ah! W-warden!” He blinked, his mind still stuck somewhere else. “I’m s-sorry! What, ah… I was dreaming... She was – she was right here…”

Es took a measured breath. They steeled their expression. There would be no unleashing hell tonight. They had lost sight of their role. They had gotten distracted with childish emotions and silly dreams. They were Milgram’s warden, not some kid like Haruka who wandered around the prison late at night looking for his mama. 

Es adjusted the hat over their hair. It was good, they told themself, that they couldn't remember a thing from the dream. They didn't need any of those people. They were perfectly fine on their own. Such a distraction would not happen again.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

“But, my p-parents, they were–”

“They’re not here. Nobody is. Back to your cell, prisoner.”

[nomattertheoceans]

I've been reading the Percy Jackson books for the first time over the past two weeks! Just finished "The Battle of the Labyrinth" last night (which btw is my favorite of the series so far!!)

I have now gained a new obsession but it might not be what you think

[ratajota]

oh i wish everyone felt the way i feel about things that i like. that's why i paint anyway, raw obsession about things is what made me a painter. to try to translate/exorcise whatever was overpowering my brain into something tangible. i used to be obsessed with Love (and the lack of it) for a few years

[itspileofgoodthings]

do you know what stresses me out? those people who use social media for posts that are like “6 months ago I was in such a dark place but I slowly pulled myself out of it” and then 6 MONTHS LATER they do the same thing!!!! like. “you THOUGHT I was having a good time but I wasn’t but now I have healed etc.” and they just keep going on an endless loop.