Gröning proposed the idea for the film to the monks in 1984, but the Carthusians said they wanted time to think about it. They responded to him 16 years later to say they were willing to permit him to shoot the movie if he was still interested.
To be clear, I don’t have any news about any impending doom. But I’ve heard a bit more about what’s going on with staff after the layoff of last week, and there are even less people than I thought still working here.
I don’t think even the current staff know what’s going to happen, but honestly, I don’t see how the high ups could even pretend to intend to keep this place open while virtually unstaffed.
As per usual, here is our guide to different Tumblr Backup options:
i’ve been told by various european friends that the most american sentence i’ve ever said is “sophomore year of college, some friends and i road-tripped thirteen hours to florida for spring break.”
and now i can confidently say this is the most guy-who-lives-in-paris sentence i’ve ever said: “today i was cycling to meet a friend at buttes-chaumont and i went over some cobblestones and my baguette got launched out of the bike basket into the middle of the roundabout”
Once I was on an eighteen hour train ride into the city and the complementary tea service was down because the train had hit a kangaroo on the way up and broken their hot water system.
Jesus christ Derin that really is the most australian sentence ever uttered
Imagine my emotions when they made the announcement. I was like “oh this is actually real huh”.
“Hey,” Buck says softly when Eddie finishes recapping everything that happened with the chess tournament. “I’m proud of you.”
The lamp in Eddie’s living room, some 800 miles away, offers enough of a glow for Buck to see the light flush that spreads across Eddie’s cheeks. “Uhm, thanks?”
“No, I mean it.” Buck rolls onto his other side, the blankets rustling in the darkened room. “You got Chris back. On your terms, too.”
Eddie nods slowly then, “Yeah. I…I never wanted to force him, you know?” Buck does. Eddie knows Buck does. “But I also…he’s my son. And I’m his dad.”
“You are.”
“I think we both needed that reminder.”
“And now he’s home.” Sort of. He’s with Eddie. That’s close enough.
“Just had to dad up, huh?” Eddie teases, smile curving up the corner of his lips.
“Absolutely.” Buck smiles back. “But Eddie…this was all you. You did this. You got your son back. And I’m so proud of you.”
“Buck—”
“You could have dropped to their level. You could have yelled and screamed. Could have made a whole show of it.” Eddie’s nose wrinkles at that. “But that isn’t you. You are not that person.” Buck takes a small breath, “One of the things I love about you, actually.”
Eddie’s face smooths out into a smile once more, this one softer and more intimate than before, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Buck doesn’t linger too long on that though. “So. I’m proud of you. Because you deserve to hear it, Eddie.”
“Thanks, Buck. For…everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Glad I didn’t have to find out.”
“Me too.” Buck replies, tucking the blankets closer around himself. He and Eddie don’t say anything else, just sit there and exist in each others company.
you know how in 5.13 arthurs like “i tried to take your head off with a mace” and merlins like “and i stopped you, using magic” and arthurs immediate reply to that is “you cheated” … and i guess i was just thinking about the breathy little laugh merlin lets out in response to that. bc like i just noticed how maybe it was a little bit of relief and awe. because like. he just talked to arthur. about magic. about using magic From The Beginning. against him in a fight. and arthurs immediate response, his most natural reaction to that, was to comment on merlins poor sportsmanship. out of anything he couldve said something about. the first thing that came to mind was merlin not playing fair. which. idk. IDK!!!
If you read the fic, leave the kudos. Leave a comment too, if possible. Just do it. It takes a few seconds of your time and it means the world to the writer.
Sincerely, me who just got told that my writing feels like watching a blockbuster movie. I don’t care if they were sincere or not, I’ll be thinking about that comment for the rest of my life and every time I feel bad about my art, I’ll remember that someone once liked it.
As a wheelchair user I’m trying to reframe my language for “being in the way.”
“I’m in the way,” “I can’t fit,” and “I can’t go there,” is becoming “there’s not enough space,” “the walkway is too narrow,” and “that place isn’t accessible.”
It’s a small change, but to me it feels as if I’m redirecting blame from myself to the people that made these places inaccessible in the first place. I don’t want people to just think that they’re helping me, I want them to think that they’re making up for someone else’s wrongdoing. I want them to remember every time I’ve needed help as something someone else caused.
To the people saying this also applies to fat people - you are not derailing! This is true!!!
people who don’t experience hyperfixation don’t know what it feels like to hyperfixate so much on something that it becomes not only your subject of obsession but also your source of happiness and literally the main reason why you still keep going; literal source of strength and life.
shoutout to my favorite fictional characters, favorite people, favorite ships, favorite movies, favorite tv shows, fanfics and archive of our own
ALT
