Hindsight, I think, is a useless tool. We, each of us, are at a place in our lives because of innumerable circumstances, and we, each of us, have a responsibility to move along life’s road, to find a better path if this one does not suit, or to walk happily along this one if it is indeed our life’s way. Changing even the bad things that have gone before would fundamentally change who we are, and whether or not that would be a good thing, I believe, it is impossible to predict.
So I take my past experiences… and try to regret nothing.
—  R.A. Salvatore, Sea of Swords

iam-reginamills asked:

OQ prompt: Regina is blind

I’ve been holding onto this one forever since I didn’t know where to go with it, and then lala-kate wrote Hindsight, and there’s no way I can top that. So, for your birthday, I’m going wth a less literal approach. Happy birthday, iam-reginamills!

(Set in Bleeding Through)

Snow is getting tired. She’s yawning more and more, and it’s no wonder that she’s worn out - spirit possession can’t be good for a pregnant woman, no matter how tough her placenta may be.

“I should get you home,” Regina says. She squeezes Snow’s hand one more time and then pushes back from her chair. “I don’t want David to come banging down the door looking for you. I’ll finish up here.”

“I can stay if you want,” Snow says as she fights back another yawn. “You have a guest room, and truth be told, it’d be nice to have a break from David’s snoring.”

Regina laughs at that. Having shared a camp with the Charmings in Neverland, she’s well aware that David sounds like a foghorn when he’s in a deep sleep, but she’s not fooled. “You just want to keep an eye on me, but that’s not necessary. I’m fine, Snow. Really.”

Snow gives her belly a pat and then pushes herself gingerly off her chair. Regina offers an arm for assistance, and Snow gratefully accepts. “I know you’re fine,” she says. “I just worry about you, being here alone.”

Regina shrugs in reply. Alone isn’t so bad. Alone means she has time to think, to weigh what happened tonight, to figure out how to use her mother’s abandonment against Zelena. Regina doesn’t relish the thought; her mother put her through nightmare after nightmare that she struggles to forget, and now she has to throw all that misery back on Zelena. No, it isn’t fair, but Regina Mills has learned over and over again that life isn’t fair. She’ll do what needs to be done, whether she likes it or not. For Henry. For Snow and Charming and their baby. For the people of Storybrooke, who still don’t fully trust her. For herself.

“I can handle being alone,” she says. “Besides, Zelena’s already gotten what she needs from me, so I doubt I’ll be getting any more surprise visits.”

Keep reading

Plushie Shenanigans

A couple of days ago wicked3659 and I went on a quick trip with my family out of the country. We’d only be gone for two days and we didn’t know if there’d be any time for sightseeing, so we didn’t bring the plushies. 

Plushies protested, so we told them they could have a sleepover with wicked’s visiting IDW Prowl plushie. After they promised to not trash the room, we left.

It didn’t take IDW Prowl long to start organising his minions the plushies. In hindsight, we really should have expected this.

Caught in their pillow fort, red handed. 

And everyone gets put into timeout while the bed is remade. Obviously Ninja Prowl thinks they’ve done nothing wrong, while IDW Prowl looks longingly at his backpack and the datapads within. Ninja Jazz just thinks it was a shame they got caught.

Captivated || Kendall&Dylan

To say Kendall had missed Dylan was an understatement. The last time she had seen him face to face was that very first night. Technically, she had seen him a couple nights ago after she had gotten shitfaced and practically crawled to his room to save herself from doing something she’d regret the next morning. But, she didn’t remember that, so she didn’t count it. But she definitely counted that first night. And, in hindsight. That was nothing like Kendall had ever done, or would ever plan to do in her life. Obviously, she had never given herself up on the first date. And that wasn’t even a first date. It was their first time hanging out, ever. But something had just connected her to him right from the start. She had no idea what it was, but she trusted it. A feeling deep down in her gut that told her he was something special. Something very, very special. 

Now, she was laying in her bed, nursing herself back to health from this hangover that refused to go away for some reason. Usually, she’d be disgusted by even the mention of the word alcohol for a couple weeks after blacking out like she had with Perrie. But, for some reason, she wanted to drink again. She was planning on slipping into a bubble bath when Dylan texted her, and she decided it would be better with him in it anyway. She did have an outfit she wanted to show him, but she figured that could wait until after the bath. 

For some reason, Kendall was in an extremely romantic mood. This had lead to her practically pouring her heart out to Dylan, something she usually tried to avoid. She felt it made her look far too vulnerable, and she didn’t like feeling like others thought of her as pathetic. But, tonight, all she wanted was a night in with Dylan. A bubble bath, candles, and some champagne. There had been two bottles for them when they got into the room, but Selena was too focused on the hard liquor to notice them, so Kendall had snagged them before the other noticed they were even there. And now, as she leaned over the tub in nothing but an oversized, gray t-shirt, her hair up in a bun, she had a smile on her face. She had begun to fill the tub, all the lights in the bathroom turned off due to the amount of candles in the room. It was probably a fire hazard, but it was also far too beautiful to tamper with.


Shelli says they should have voted out Becky and I’m glad she has a little regret for her lack of hindsight. She had the power to convince Vanessa to backdoor Austin but here we are. If she had stuck to the plan the divide in the house wouldn’t have been so strong and the target on her back wouldn’t be so big. Bad move for her game really. But she knows that.

once, in my primary school, the headteacher told the assembled students to ‘shush, there might be some *artistic* children in here who do not like the noise’

at this point, I had my hands over my ears. But I heard that.

I remember thinking 'oh, I’m artistic - I can draw’ and feeling quietly vindicated in the fact that my needs had been taken into account and the headteacher had quietened the students

with hindsight - she said 'autistic’

and she said 'autistic’ because an autistic kid (me) was covering their ears in the assembly hall

so that’s a thing


anonymous asked:

Do you actually like Peter as a character? I thought I was alone in that, and I'm terrified to tell any of my HP fandom friends.

I was not the one who picked the url
I do find Peter extremely complex- especially because all we know about him comes through the lens of hindsight. But the fact of the matter is, Sirius, James, and Lily all trusted him with their lives and Harry’s. Peter made all the same sacrifices to spend full moons with Remus (more even because the magical skills came less naturally to him). And in the end, Peter died to save Harry’s life.

And yet he was still the traitor. That’s some pretty powerful switching sides.

You know what other characters switched sides? Snape. The Malfoys. Even Dumbledore, if you go back to his early support of Grindelwald.

Sure, they switched sides in the opposite direction, but they’re still hella interesting characters because of that dynamic, and Peter is no different. He’s not a good person, but neither was Snape really, or Lucius Malfoy. And Draco was an ass at the very least.

Have no shame love!

[ A letter would arrive, sealed with black wax. Accompanying it, would be a book that held pictures of birds on it, inscribed in silver with the title “ Avian of Kalimdor” ]

My dearest Aeviara, 

It pleases me that you both enjoyed the simple note, and the gift I will admit in hindsight has provided that next time I choose to send someone an Owl, that I should at least provide the information to take care of it. Please forgive me in this, though I have included a copy from my library of a book that will indeed be helpful, in more ways then one I should hope.

As far as our feathered friend goes; He is from Winterspring, and is a Snow-crested owl. They tend to be found in colder climates but also have the ability to adjust as well, an oddity among the species. Another oddity for Percival, is that he hunts during the day, which is specific to his family of owl. You should not have to feed him at all, as he is quite capable of gathering his own food. They are loyal and their might be a time when you find a small collection of bones and fur, please do not be alarmed if he leaves you “presents”. While the prey is much different in Winterspring, he will also adjust to what animals make their home in Quel'Thalas.

You will be able to let him out of his cage, and he will come back provided that he recognizes your scent. While he did not imprint on a person, he seems to be keen to stay with one. I didn’t think it very fair to keep him as I already have an owl myself and they tend to be territorial of their owners. 

The symbol of the owl not only wisdom, but intuition. They are said to bond to those who are able to see past deception, who see what most cannot. It seems if you’ve found a bond with him then you are indeed a perceptive woman. It can also represent a “death” if you will, perhaps something that is changed in your life. 

Though my gift was meant to be more of a gesture of friendship, so I hope you do not read too deeply into the symbolism. I promise I am not sending you any sort of odd omens.

If you have any further questions, I’m only an owl away. 

With warm regards, 

Centori Dellanir

The First Incident-Closed

Harper hummed to herself as she walked along one of the lesser used paths in Cresting Park. She had just sold her last batch of plants to a very eager potion dealer and she had gotten a fairly large sum of money, putting her in a good mood and giving her a reason to go out. She had decided to take a detour through the park on a whim before heading to town.

As Harper by PalMall 1.2"> continued

strolling she noticed a squirrel carcass near the base of a tree. She headed towards it to investigate and found it in near perfect condition besides a couple flies that had landed on it. It had most likely died very recently since its eyes hadn’t sunken in or scavengers hadn’t eaten it yet. Harper’s eyes lit up at the opportunity to practice her magic, as it was easier to reanimated a corpse that had yet to decompose versus an older body. In hindsight, Harper thought, that was probably why it had taken forever to make Dr. Niblit walk as her neighbor’s guinea pig had been dead for a couple days before she unburied it.

Though she was tempted to start using her magic immediately, Harper knew that in broad daylight in the public park she ran a high risk of being seen. She considered coming back later, but decided against it, as some animal was bound to come across the small corpse, or at least the bugs would decompose the squirrel even more. Reasoning that she was in a fairly secluded area, Harper decided to try making the dead critter walk again.

Harper took a deep breath in before channeling her magic. She simply focus on the rodent in front of her before she felt the electric rush of her magic. She sensed the squirrel’s dormant nervous system and began to test the controls out and see if there were any broken connections that she would have to bridge. Her target’s left leg bone was fractures, most likely due to falling from the tree and it had sustained a large concussion. Harper focused her magic to hold together the leg and to reconnect the severed nerves and work around the damaged tissue. 

After ensuring that she had a grasp on the nervous system, a process that had been progressively been getting easier the more she practiced on rodents, Harper attempted to move the squirrel by forcing her arcane energy to travel through the squirrel like the nervous impulses its brain would have sent. Since she didn’t want to accidentally fry the nerves, Harper wasted some energy figuring out just how much energy was necessary to make her new minion walk. After a couple preliminary tests, Harper had managed to get the reanimated body to stand up and slowly walk towards her. The squirrel’s steps grew progressively faster as Harper started to grow more comfortable and confident with the process. she had the rodent chase its tail, jump, and run. However, as she observed it, Harper saw that there was a certain uncanniness to the squirrel’s movements and knew that she had a long way until she perfected her art. However, Harper had a plan to make a big leap in her abilities. She had read in several books that some necromancers, which was a close as she was going to find to a reanimator in modern literature. were able to tap into their victim’s senses. To not just control its movements, but also see what the squirrel would, would be a huge personal leap for Harper in her exploration of her magical abilities. 

Harper began to feel her back cramp up due to sitting in the same position for so long and was tempted to stretch, but she knew that if she moved she would break her concentration and lose control of the rodent. Plus, her reservoirs were running low, so she didn’t think she would have enough energy for a second try. She closed her eyes and tried to delve even further into the furry corpse’s brain, completely oblivious to the world around her her.

So I just got my first Tinder match in quite some time. Swiped right immediately - she had turquoise hair and was in a band and had tattoos. Then got the notification that she right-swiped me back. Hooray! Admittedly I did not read her “About Me” section before swiping, which, in hindsight, was a misstep. The third item down a long list was the sentence, “Don’t be fat.” So I went ahead and messaged her thusly:

“Hi, _______! I’m Jeremy, nice to meet you. I gotta be honest, I didn’t read the part of your profile that says ‘Don’t be fat’ before swiping right. Just to be clear, what is your definition of fat? I fall somewhere between Clive Owen and a mountain. Not like Kilimanjaro or anything, one of the smaller joints in the Sierra Nevadas.”

Then I turned my phone off 'cause I had therapy (obvs), and when I turned it back it on, she and the conversation were gone.

There is no moral of this story.


Two hundred years ago there would have been wolves here.


Weird antique mall stuff, part 2

1. That is a Prince doll

2. Sad Keanu doll. In hindsight I kind of wish I bought this

3. A statue of a dog reading books???

4. Seems like a cool place

5. Crack open my skull and feast on the innards

6. E N T E R T H E T O A D H O L E

7. Uhh why does this cake pan have balls

8. And this is what I actually bought, it’s two of my favorite things PINK and RABBIT and it was also really cheap. I’m going to see if I can find out anything about him online since he has no tags.

The world is full of strange coincidences and miracles. We humans can be too busy acting busy on our phones to actually stop and pay attention to them (I’m guilty of this), but every once in a while, if you disconnect, they will reveal themselves to you like a hidden image emerging from a chaotic pattern. 

This afternoon, I read a passage from Oscar Wao as I did my laundry. It was the moment where Oscar (if you haven’t read this, I would skip this part) jumps off the bridge onto the highway trying to commit seppuku (as he would describe it, which in hindsight he’d criticize his form and say he should have had his sheathed sword at his side and fallen onto it). I felt a chill and had to put the book down. It’s a heavy moment. It’s a touchy subject, but it’s beautifully written. I had to walk out to my car just to let it sink in. 

This evening, as I left work with a red bull, a bag of chips, and a hand rolled cigarette in my ear (I never even smoke), I came upon the bridge over Glendale. I had just filmed some bands. As I crossed the bridge, I saw there was a girl sitting on the ledge, slumped over, crying with her legs dangling over Glendale Blvd. Another woman was walking in the opposite direction and we both noticed the girl. La guera kept walking, because that’s usually lo que hacen, so I decided to stop and talk to her. There was no way I’d let somebody be stupid enough to jump off that bridge. For one, they’d probably only end up with some broken bones just like Oscar el probe pendejo. We humans are the second most resistant anthropoids to such large falls. The first being Warner Bros. cartoon characters.  

The girl was Nicaraguan-Mexicana and refused to move. In fact, she wasn’t a girl, but 32 (Gracias a dios por la gen cafe*) She kept crying and I asked her to please not sit on the edge. She didn’t want to, so I told her I was going to carry her off no matter what because death can come as swift as a breeze that knocks you off balance. I picked her up and planted her two feet back on the ground. We talked. I listened mostly, because people direly need to be understood and not just agreed with for the sake of politeness. 

I won’t bore you with the details, but we didn’t just talk about why she wanted to fall off the bridge. Some of our talk involved brujeria, spirituality, how our human bodies limit the way we see and perceive dimensions, and we shared anecdotes about strange occurrences like the story of my twin brother. By the end of our conversation, I’d given her the Red Bull, cigarette and bag of chips. She was worried because she locked herself out of her apartment, but I had a gut feeling she wouldn’t have a problem getting in. I walked her home and sure enough, somebody had left the front door propped open. 

Everything was fine in that moment. She made it through another night, and she was at least understood by a guy who wasn’t playing along just to cop a feel. I told her my name and where I worked. We didn’t exchange numbers but I told her she knew where to find me if she needed to talk again. We parted ways and hugged** and she went home smiling. She wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t until I got to my car and saw the book sitting on the passenger’s seat that it dawned on me the significance of having read that passage this afternoon and later finding la reina sitting on that bridge. It was both a coincidence and a miracle. 

Sidenote*: gene in Spanish is masculine, so it’s technically el gen but really, the oldest and most pure genes in America are female and should be correctly pronounced as such. Why is that, you wonder? Well, it’s clear as lluvia when you understand that it was the conquistadors who raped the indigenous women, not the other way around. Our mixed culture, generations later are the result of that, but that essential essence that makes us niños de la tierra is birthed by las reinas. Las reinas are the ones who’ve carried on la raíces puras the longest. If the conquistadors had decided to kill everyone instead (as horrible as they were, even they couldn’t deny the beauty of las reinas), we’d all be white and have lisps. 

Sidenote**: she had a boyfriend who probably had no idea that his girl was sitting on the bridge down the street. I didn’t meet the guy, and I didn’t want to either. Fue un gabacho. Not surprised. He doesn’t really get the complexity of loving a reina. I don’t even think the gaba was even home. It would have been hilarious to have met him. He probably would’ve been hostile and mad, and I honestly wouldn’t have minded a fight (I did squats and barbell punches earlier that day) but this night wasn’t about me, it was about a girl who needed a shoulder to cry on. 

i’m not sure if i’ve ever actually mentioned this on here but when we met taylor during the fearless tour, one of my friends asked her how she felt about singing songs that she no longer related to and if she got embarrassed by songs that were really sad or angry now that she no longer felt sad or angry about the situation and taylor said “no because there’s no point in being embarrassed by things i once felt and that were once real to me” and even though i wasn’t the one who asked the question, that response has really stuck with me.

it means a lot to me because in hindsight it’s so easy to be embarrassed by emotional outbursts, i frequently regret my emotions like 30 seconds after i feel them but like….. why should i????? negative emotions are always seen as such an embarrassing thing and i know for me i often try to hide when people hurt or anger me because i don’t want them to know they have that power over me but again… why???? why is it so important????? suppressing my emotions and being embarrassed when i lose control over them is still something i struggle with but when it happens i do think about taylor saying that and it makes me feel at least a little better.