a true life event

Palmistry 101


When reading palms, whether your own or someone else’s, these are the main things to consider:

  1. Which hand is dominant? For right-handed people, the left hand gives information about inherited characteristics and potential, while the right hand reveals the development, character, and life events. The opposite is true for left-handed folks!
  2. Quality of lines and their points of intersection. How strong or fine are the lines? Are they straight and long, broken and twisted, etc.? 
  3. The directions of lines, which mounts they occur on or near, and their influences.
  4. Shape of the hand, fingers, nails, and mounts.
  5. General demeanor of the person and the hand. 

MAJOR LINES

Each line has its own meaning and depicts a certain course of action in a person’s life. Lines come in all shapes and sizes. Not everyone has all six of these lines, although the first three are always present (the fate line is usually present as well). 

  • Heart line: emotions, insecurities, marriages, dependence and independence, the nature of your relationships.
  • Head line: intellect, reasoning powers, prospective career paths, potentials for success.
  • Life line: pattern and quality of life, physical vitality, stability or imbalance, will power and logic, not necessarily the indicator for length of your life.
  • Fate/Saturn line: strengths of character, career, friendships, life’s daily problems, and general ability to succeed.
  • Mercury/Health line: health matters, business and adventure, the spirit of discovery.
  • Apollo/Sun line: utilization of creative energies and potentials for success through development of talents.

MOUNTS

The mounts are fleshy cushions underneath each of the fingers. These mounts carry the same name as the finger they are under. Below are the different character and personality traits associated with each finger/mount.

  • Mercury: Pinky. buoyancy, shrewdness, wit, spirit.
  • Apollo/Sun: Ring finger. compassion, love of beauty, artistic abilities, potential for success.
  • Saturn/Fate: Middle finger. seriousness, cautiousness, gloom, superstition.
  • Jupiter: Index finger. leadership, honor, ambition, spirituality/religiousness.
  • Lower Mars: Below pinky. moral courage, self-control.
  • Upper Mars: Below thumb. resistance, coolness of spirit, calmness, courage.
  • Venus: Thumb. benevolence, affection, humility, passion.
  • Moon: sentimentaliity, imagination, self-centeredness 

CONFIGURATIONS

These are just a few of the figurative markings that are commonly seen on the hand. They add meaning to the lines or mounts they are near.

  • Branches: emphasize strengths.
  • Breaks in lines: emphasize weaknesses.
  • Chains: signify obscure goals, inclinations to deviate.
  • Crosses: signify upheavals, violence, struggles, and blunders.
  • Islands: indicate delays, injuries, and problems.
  • Stars: emphasize luckiness.


*** I will be posting more about palmistry soon, including more detailed variations of the lines and mounts! In the meantime, feel free to ask me about your palms… sending me a picture would be AMAZING :~)

Haechan: do you want to listen to MJ??

Mark: I don’t think I have a choice

Love is a feeling or a decision?

Okay…I was just scrolling on tumblr and I saw a post that said “Love is a feeling, not a decision.” And my immediate response was, “Um..that’s false.” But when I clicked on the comments, people were agreeing that love is in fact a feeling and not a decision, so I would just like to throw this unpopular opinion out there.

Love is a feeling for about a month, and a decision for the rest of your life.

If love was just a feeling, divorce would never happen, it would be strong enough to sustain relationships. You’d fall for every guy who whispered sweet nothings, who’s taller than you and has a nice smile.

Love is not something that you feel. You FEEL euphoria, you FEEL joy, you FEEL excitement. You CHOOSE love. After the excitement wears off and you realize you don’t like the way she/he chews, or you don’t like that he swears a lot or whatever other little thing they might do that gets under your skin, you have to CHOOSE that you still want to be with this person in spite of their quirks.

Hollywood has fed us this idea that those feelings of joy and excitement are all that love is. And that some big dramatic event happens that ends in tears and a loving embrace is true love. But that’s not life! When those big dramatic events happen, you usually want to die. Or you want to be alone. Or you question your relationship. Love is not “Oh I feel good around this person so I must love them!” No no my friends, love is the grunt work. It’s staying together in the valleys so you can get the peaks, can I get an Amen?!

This idea that love is just a feeling is why relationships aren’t lasting. Why we all give up so easily. Because if we don’t FEEL it anymore, then it must not exist. If we don’t FEEL it, then it must be over. This rhetoric is killing lasting relationship which is what many of us want and desire.

Now I’m not saying that you should have no emotions with the guy or girl you’re with. You should feel happiness and sparks and all that jazz, but just know that that is not all that love is. And when sh*t hits the fan, it’s not the sparks that will keep your relationship afloat.

This, of course, it my personal opinion.. what do you guys think?

I Get So Weak

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Angst, Drama

Summary: Request fic for @rocketginger. “hi can you do a gee x reader fic where gee has his lowest piont (drugs, booze,) and reader is like gonna help him with his struggles and fluffy stuff happens”.

A/N: I decided to make this a Band Member!Reader fic. Hope that’s ok. Oh, and trigger warning for alcohol/drug abuse, obviously. 

You’d been hanging out with the other bands of Warped Tour, enjoying the warm summer sunlight on your skin as you drifted between the throng of buses. But, soon it was going to be My Chemical Romance’s turn to take the stage. You knew you needed to stop procrastinating and start getting into your performance clothes soon. Those bulletproof vests made you look cool, but, damn, they made you overheat fast.

I’ll do my makeup first, you decided as you swung open the door of your band’s tour bus.

“Anyone seen my hand mirror?” you called as you ascended the stairs. You began looking for it in your bunk, but you didn’t see it.

Maybe Gerard borrowed it to do his eye shadow, you figured. You didn’t think anyone else was on the bus, because nobody had answered you when you shouted. You walked over to Gerard’s bunk and pulled open the privacy curtains.

You were surprised to find Gerard laying on his bed. At first, you thought he was sleeping, but then you noticed his vacant eyes were open.

“Hey,” you greeted him. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

He didn’t even blink.

“Hey,” you said again. “You ok, Gee?”

Then, you looked down towards his lap, and saw your hand mirror sitting there. Its surface was streaked with lines of white dust. Beside it was a half-empty bottle of vodka.

“Fuck,” you swore, realization dawning on you. “Gerard, is that what I think it is?”

Keep reading

When you leave your little alone while you sleep for too long
  • Little: Mommy
  • Me: *sleeping*
  • Little: Mommy
  • Little: Mommy
  • Little: Momma
  • Little: Momma
  • Little: MOMMY I COULD BE DYING
  • Little: MOMMMMAAAAA
  • Little: HEWWOOOOOO
  • Little: *grunts* fine
  • Little: *stomps downstairs and plays in mommy makeup, giggling and singing*
  • Little: Me a pwetty princess! Me a pwetty princess. Meeee wuvvv-
  • Little: ...
  • Little: DIS LIPSTICK IS BLUE!! I NEEDS IT IN MY FACIE
  • Little: *rubs all kinds of stuff on her face and smiles happily*
  • Me: *wakes up*
  • Me: Good morning prin-
  • Me: ...
  • Little: ...
  • Me: baby oh my god
  • Little: ...
  • Me: I was asleep what did you do
  • Little: ...
  • Me: *licks my thumb and tries to wipe some of the makeup off*
  • Me: honey... wha... why?
  • Little: *giggling*
  • Me: baby, why'd you put mommy's makeup all over your face!?
  • Little: ...
  • Me: ...
  • Little: I pwetty!!
  • Me: -_-

chocolapeanut  asked:

“How can anyone not be afraid of love?”, Mahaad + Atem? 。◕ ‿ ◕。

From this meme: [X]  

Send me two characters or more and a prompt and I’ll write you a short fic a long mess, how did this happen???

(I was planning to put it in a read more line but idk it doesn’t show on tumblr mobile so… just scroll down the block if you don’t wanna read it)


It’s very rare that he asks Yuugi for anything, not wanting to interfere with his life. But he couldn’t help it, he finally had some clues on what he was, on who he was, on why he was in the Puzzle. He just… he had to make sure it was real.

So he asks Yuugi if he could do something, go out and relax in his body, and he obliges with no hesitation. Encouraging him to take his time, and actually threatening him if he switched control too soon. He asks again if this could be private, and Yuugi is fine with it.

So here he was, at the museum, standing before the tablet again. A tablet of friendship created by a high priest, Isis said. One that had apparently been close to him.

He wonders how much of that was true. It’s just one tablet, one event in his life (one he couldn’t remember).

“You’re interested in Ancient Egypt?”

He turns to find a man leaning against a pillar. He was tall, a little taller than Kaiba, and had long black hair. Hair so dark and silky it looked violet against the light.

Usually he would be wary of strangers, especially those who ask him about Egypt. It was always a theme in their lives that anyone who’s interested in Egypt and approaches them were not nice, to put it mildly.

But this was a museum, and he supposes it was a normal question. Considering he was a teenager staring at an Ancient Egyptian artifact intensely.

“Of sorts,” he says, observing the man some more. Blue eyes, not as vibrant as Anzu’s or intense as Kaiba’s, but still striking in its own way. Like looking into a calm river. “Things related to Ancient Egypt frequently appear in my life,” an understatement, “and it wouldn’t hurt to know more about it.”

The man hums, looking at the tablet then at him. He suspects that he’s looking at the carving of the pharaoh, perhaps comparing their similarities.

“Any questions you wish to ask?”

He blinks.

“I know a lot about Ancient Egypt,” the man says. “I can give you plenty of obscure facts about it. For instance, did you know that onions were considered an aphrodisiac?”

He snorts at that, knowing from Yuugi’s memories that onions were a pretty common ingredient for many dishes. “We must all be horny as hell twenty-four-seven.”

He probably shouldn’t be talking to a stranger this much, this was still Yuugi’s body. And it wouldn’t be good if they met the man again, only to find Yuugi and not him. Yuugi’s friends were enough, he shouldn’t intrude in his partner’s life any more than he already has.

(but it was nice to talk about things that weren’t life-threatening, and it felt nice to be not the Other Yuugi for once)

“Perhaps,” the man says, smiling. “Priests were forbidden to eat them because it might raise their libido, and they wouldn’t be able to perform any of their sacred duties.”

“I take it you like onions, considering this is your opening line to convince me of your Egyptian expertise?” He raises an eyebrow, turning completely towards the stranger. He looked around the same age as Pegasus (though really, most people looked older than the multimillionaire manchild). He was wearing a grey cardigan and black slacks.  

It was fascinating how plain and simple the man looked. Yet at the same time, not. There was something about him, beneath the mellow and approachable appearance of the man, he felt there was a kind of… flair to him.

Like something magical.

“I love anything with onions in it.”

“You’d be a horrible priest, then.”

“There were ways around it,” the man says, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Rituals to purify one’s self. Priests weren’t saints, after all.”

“I’m sure there were people who’d still say you’d be a horrible priest.”

“I can think of at least one,” the man chuckles, laughing at some inside joke only he was privy to.

He thinks of Shadi who had barged into people’s soul rooms and even changed them to suit their needs. He thinks of Shadi who had given the Eye to Pegasus when he was obviously grieving and emotionally vulnerable. 

He thinks of himself, the first weeks of being out of the Puzzle, punishing Yuugi’s classmates with no hesitation.

Shadi could be considered a priest, couldn’t he? And him… he was a pharaoh, someone who should be above priests.

“None of us are, some less saintly than others,” he says, giving himself a self-deprecating smile. He turns back to look at the tablet, eyes roaming through every symbol and image on it. He had assumed that Isis and her clan would be the only people who knew about the history of Nameless Pharaoh, but considering this was part of an exhibit - and the fact that people like Pegasus, Sugoroku, and even Ryou knew parts of it? It seems a bit silly to think it was some kind of secret.

“Can you tell me anything about them?” He asks, pointing at the two figures above his supposed self and the priest.

The man tilts his head. “Not about the one that looks like you? I would have been curious about that.”

So he did assume he was interested because of that. “I’m,” scared of finding out what kind of person he was, “more curious about them. They look a lot like two Duel Monsters I know.”

The man hums, walking towards the tablet. He was beside him, looking up at the tablet, seemingly unaware of how the teen stiffened in response of their sudden change in proximity.

“I don’t know much about the dragon, only that she was incredibly steadfast and strong,” the man says. “I know more about the man above the pharaoh, he was one of his high priests.”

A high priest, like the one who ordered this tablet to be made? Did he have an item then? “So he couldn’t eat onions too?” He jokes.

“No, much to his dismay, it didn’t stop him though.”

“Much to his dismay?” He raises an eyebrow. “Are we talking about him or you?”

“Why not both?” The man shrugs. “Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Right,” he snorts, looking at the details of Dark Magician in the tablet. So did that mean his monster had been a priest? Was Dark Magician even the person depicted in this tablet? “A high priest… what was special about him that he was carved here?”

One could say that perhaps it was because he was his ace. Kaiba had Blue Eyes White Dragon, while he had Dark Magician. But that was pushing it too far, even for him. This was something that happened thousands of years, he doubted they were carved because both were their favorite cards.

Even he had to draw the line with using fate as an explanation.

“Loyalty perhaps? That would be obvious. Protectiveness? It is depicting a battle, maybe he was one of his best warriors,” the man says. “But I would have to say love.”

“Love,” he repeats flatly.

“You don’t think so?”

He thinks of this tablet, one that was a symbol of friendship that he didn’t remember. This was the only thing in his past that didn’t seem to want to kill him, a symbol of love. He doesn’t know how to handle love, he never considered it was something his past had. “I’m… wary of love.”

“How can you be scared of love?”

“How can you not?” He shoots back. He thinks of Kaiba and how most of his world was his little brother. Thinks about how much he must have lost and taken just to give him a comfortable life.

He thinks of Mokuba, and how much of an unbearable and murderous brat he was before, because he had been drifting away from the only family he had and didn’t know what to do.

He thinks of Jounouchi, living with his drunkard of a father and still hoping they’d regain their father-son bond, willing to give all of his prize money from Duelist Kingdom, a nightmare of a tournament, for his sister.

He thinks of Otogi, who had done horrible things to Yuugi in hopes to make his father proud. He thinks of Ryou, who often looks in longing at passing families. He thinks of Pegasus, a man who couldn’t handle losing his wife well.

He thinks of Yuugi and the burn scars on his hands.

“How can anyone not be scared of love?” He wonders. “You have to endure, you have to lose, you have to hurt… all for love.”

Silence.

“Some would say it’s worth it.”

“Do you think so?” He remembers how much Yuugi wouldn’t let go, remembers how Jounouchi was so torn between leaving the Puzzle behind and taking the risk of wasting time to bring the Puzzle with them too. He would have rather both of them left him, instead of slowly burning in that hell hole. “Love often means sacrifice.”

“You don’t like sacrifice?”

“I don’t like people sacrificing for me, love’s not worth it if they’re hurt because of me.”

“Many would say that sacrificing for a loved one is worth it.”

He laughs, forced and bitter. “And what if the loved one is hurt because of it? What it they forever think that it’s their fault? What if they wished you never loved them, so you’d never become hurt? What then? What if they have nobody else and you’re gone? What if they choose not to have anyone else so that nobody sacrifices for them ever again? Who picks up the pieces when your sacrifice breaks them?

More silence.

“… I don’t know.”

He laughs again. “That’s a bit selfish, isn’t it? That you wouldn’t consider the feelings of a loved one, even if you justify it with sacrifice.”

He thinks of Yuugi’s thoughts, the moment the Puzzle was put back together, he felt his partner’s desperation in taking him back. The mantra “I want to see him again!” playing over and over until he fainted. 

A selfish thought for a selfless act.

Love was scary.

He recalls what Isis had told him, about how he sealed himself in the Puzzle for the greater good. Sacrifice then, to keep his loved ones alive. He wonders vaguely if that high priest, the past incarnation of Kaiba, had been mad at him. That this tablet of friendship was more of a tablet of grief, of pain, of anger.

That seemed more like Kaiba, in his opinion.

“Is that what you feel then?”

Have you been broken? Is what the man means.

He considers it, he doesn’t have any memories to know if he had lost people. If people sacrificed for him, if it had become too much for him.

Yet…

Whenever Yuugi put his life on the line, whenever anyone put their lives on the line, there was something familiar about it that he couldn’t dismiss. Horror. Fear. Pain. Anger.

Resignation. The quiet pleas of “No, not again” echoing in his mind.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “But, I sometimes feel phantom pains when I see someone I love hurt,” he touches his chest. “Like a thousand knives stabbing me all at once. I’m beginning to wonder if my sacrifice was more for me than for them, if I was just tired… if that was the only thing I knew, because so many who loved me sacrificed as well. It must have been normal.”

He doesn’t know that the man hears, doesn’t see the man wince.

“I’m sorry.”

He jerks at that, blinking. Then he laughs awkwardly. “What are you sorry for? You were offering me trivias and I was the one who rambled,” he places his hands in his pockets. “I should be sorry, I was wasting your time.”

“You would never wast-! … It was not a waste of time, I was happy to help,” the man sighs. He gives him a quiet long stare.

“… What is it?”

“You’re a duelist, correct? One of your decks is a Dark Magician one.”

He blinks, he didn’t expect someone to describe him like that. Most usually say things about him beating Kaiba or Pegasus. And then either running away or demanding a duel. Nobody has ever taken note what his deck was, except Kaiba (and that was usually because he was spending half his time trying to defeat it).

“Here,” the man holds out a card.

He takes it, widens his eyes at the title of the card. “Thousand Knives?”

It was a Dark Magician support card too.

“It’s an apology, for all the pain you had to endure,” the man says with a solemnity that he couldn’t place. “Let all the knives you’ve taken become a weapon against your enemies, not yourself.”

What?

“I can’t-! This isn’t-!” He sputters, looking at the card. It was a very useful card, and something that appealed to him greatly. He imagines using this against monsters more powerful than Dark Magician. It was so tempting but- “I can’t accept this, you don’t know-”

The man wasn’t there.

“… Me?”

chloejanerememberthename  asked:

the first and last time "Uncle Obi" tells a not-quite-truth when babysitting the wonder twins. Leia glares "Im four not stupid Uncle Obi!" Satine hasn't stopped laughing at Obi Wan's crestfallen face for hours, she's already sent a holo of the incident to Padmé

LOL OK but SERIOUSLY: I love the idea of Leia not buying one single second of Obi-Wan’s half-truths. Also you know Anakin’s going to be telling her some ABSOLUTELY NOT TRUE versions of events from his life too, and Leia’s not going to have time for any of that bullshit, either.

Loose lips sink Maryse Lightwood Pt 2

Mature themes and language in this half but worth a giggle hopefully

Later that evening, Maryse helped them get dinner ready. Alec was still in shock about his mother’s new attitude. He couldn’t help smile at her and Magnus in the kitchen together sharing cooking tips. Will wonders ever cease.

Magnus had made them all special cocktails in honour of the incredible day they had had so far. While he still whinced at the sharp taste, his mother seemed to be enjoying hers immensely. They laid the table and ate together, talking about what had been happening in Idris and the Institute. By the time they had moved into the living room, Maryse was on her third cocktail and looked extremely relaxed as she sat down in a chair slipping off her power high heels and tucking her feet up under her. Magnus and Alec sat together on the sofa, Magnus leaning into Alec’ chest, his hand resting on his thigh. Maryse looked over to them, smiling.

“You two look very sweet together” she said, her voice wavering a little. Alec wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or the cocktails.

“Thank you Maryse. It’s been learning curve but we are getting there.” Magnus said, patting Alec’ leg.

“new relationships always are. I remember when Robert and I first got together. It took a while before we worked out what worked and what went where.” Alec stared at his mother. Did she just say what he thought she did? No, couldn’t have. He took a sip of his drink.

“things were different then. It wasn’t encouraged to be with a man before you got married” she gave a giggle. ”but that didn’t stop us, we went at it like rabbits” Alec nearly choked on his drink and Magnus, gave surprised snort, covering it up with a cough.

“I know I know. You thought I was born with  a stick up my butt but I wasn’t, believe me. I had quite a good time before my parents put a stop to it by making me and your father get married” Alec stilled.

“Hang on, Mother. Are you saying you had to get married?” magnus was worried that if his eyes got any larger, they were going to pop right out of his head.

“What? No, no, no. Not like that. They just thought we were having too good a time and wanted to see me settle down. I sort of had a little bit of a reputation before then. They wanted to put an end to all the gossip I think. Ha, worked too. No more raves, no more boys. I think that’s when I acquired that stick after that” she said, sipping her drink.

Alec was shaking his head. Did he even know this woman who called herself his mother? He was beginning to have his doubts. He looked at Magnus and was annoyed to see he was finding Maryse’s loose tongue very amusing.

“I imagine you’ve had quite a good time yourself over the years, Mangus, being 400 hundred years old. Seen a few sights, tasted some very exotic pleasures. If you know what I mean?” she gave him a sly grin and an exaggerated wink.

Alec couldn’t help take in a deep breath and felt Magnus tense beside him.

“It is true I have lived a long and eventful life but that’s all in the past. I prefer to look to the future with Alexander. It’s all I care about now” He told her.

“Maybe you should go to bed Mum, you look tired” Alec said, hopefully.

“Nah, I’m fine. I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time. I’m really enjoying this drink. Thanks Maxis” she lifted the glass up in a toast towards them before taking another sip.

“what did you put in that thing?” Alec whispered to him.

“nothing that I don’t normally put in them” Magnus replied.

“You two go ahead if you want to though. You must want some time to yourselves being so in love and everything. Sorry about the cockblock earlier, had no idea you’d be in here together or I would of called first. Nice ass by the way, magus, you must work out. Hey, do you two take it in turns?”  Maryse was looking over at them, with a questioning look on her face. She obviously failed to see both their absolutely stunned expressions.

“sorry?” Magnus croaked out.

“You know, do you take turns being on top or do you change it up every now and then?” Both of them went bright red and Magnus clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle an embarrassed giggle. Alec, who wanted to gag his mother with one of the pillows from the sofa stood up abruptly and went over to her, taking the glass from her hand.

“That’s it Mother. I think you’ve drank and said enough for one night. Time for bed” He pulled her to her unsteady feet and started leading her to the spare room.

“Oh dear, I said too much didn’t I? I didn’t mean to offend you both, you know. I meant it when I said I just wanted to understand it more. You know, I was gay once too.” Alec stopped dead at that statement and just stared at her in horror. He couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mother’s mouth.

“Yeah, when we were at the Shadowhunter’s academy. There was a girl there, now what was her name? ah, Penelope I think it was. She kissed me in the girl’s changing rooms. It only lastest for a couple of minutes though, so maybe it doesn’t count. She did have really good tasting lip gloss though, I remember that much” Alec turned back to where Magnus was still sitting on the sofa. He had a throw cushion jammed to his face and Alec could see his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Not funny Maxis” he said to him, which only made him laugh harder. With a sigh he lead his mother to the guest room and guided her to the bed, helping her lay down. She seemed to pass out the second her head hit the pillow and he took her shoes off before covering her with the quilt.

When he returned to the living room, Magnus was wiping tears of laughter from his face. He flopped down next to him and he laid his head in his lap small chuckles still bubbling from him.

“You ever make my mother drinks again and I’ll run you through with a seraph blade” Alec said. “I didn’t even know she knew words like that. At least we know now where Izzy gets her rebel side from.”

“Who would of thought that the mighty Maryse Lightwood could be that entertaining? But there’s one thing I’d love to know” Magnus said looking up at him.

“What?”

“who Penelope was” Magnus broke out in fresh laughter and in spite of been thoroughly mortified, Alec laughed along with him.

Breath Mints and Beef Steaks

I know I have many other stories I should be working on. However, yesterday, May 27th would have been my brother’s 44th birthday. Because of that, this story idea popped into my head and wouldn’t leave. At the insistence of Mr. 723 I’ve decided to share it with all of you.
This story is kind of a modern AU featuring J/C and Willie Fraser.
This story contains true events from my life.
Please be kind
Questions And constructive criticism are always welcomed.

————-

Meditatively, Jamie tapped the single cigarette on the small table on the porch, spinning it over and over while he stared out into the night. Without much thought, he took a sip from his glass, lit the cigarette, taking one drag then setting it in the ashtray to burn. A small smile showed on his face as the smoke and the liquor mixed in his senses. Willie. It was fleeting, lasting no longer than seconds after he swallowed; but, for a moment his brother was there.


It had been a few months since they had lost him and, while each day became more and more bearable, Jamie was still livid. Today was no different, in fact, today being today, it only made his anger worse. Today, he would have been thirty. Today, he should have been out celebrating, getting drunk in a pub, and shamelessly flirting with women. Today should have been the beginning of the next chapter, the next 30 years. But no, that wasn’t God’s plan, apparently the plan was for such a vibrant flame to be snuffed out with one stupid drink, with one moment of rash decisions. One moment and worlds were shattered. His world was shattered.


Tilting his head back on the house, Jamie closed his eyes and just let the smells he was able to manufacture permeate his thoughts. In those very adult smells sprung memories. Two young boys playing knights in the yard, holding each other during a storm. With the change of the wind so did the memories. Teenagers competing, fighting, trying to win the girl.

A crystal clear memory came to Jamie then; He was twelve and at some dance or another, the prettiest girl there asked him to save the last dance for her. He had waited on that dance floor until the lights came on and a teacher asked him to head out to meet his parents. He had drug his feet. He refused to believe that she had stood him up, that he was just a joke to her and her friends. When he left the school, his mam and Willie were waiting in the car, Willie saw the tears threatening to spill in his brother’s eyes. Willie had immediately offered to fight anyone who had hurt him. Jamie had just nodded and climbed into the backseat of their car, not wishing to talk about it. After their mother convinced her oldest that he couldn’t fight a twelve year old, she began to drive home, looking at Jamie in the rear view smiling knowing that one fine day he’d be some lassie’s choice.


Reaching without opening his eyes, Jamie took another sip from his glass, and allowed himself to feel the calm those memories brought wash over him.


Claire had watched him from afar, wishing beyond anything else that she could do more, make him feel less, shoulder some of his pain. They had only been together a short time, having only started to see one another for about two weeks when Willie died. She wasn’t really sure what to make of him, he was a very different man than Jamie was. Not polar opposites by any means, but they did view life very differently. Where Jamie was a planner, liking stability, Willie was spontaneous and seemed very much to thrive in the chaos. She supposed then, that his death while sudden and devastating, seemed to fit him. She would never dare say that to either Jamie or Jenny. But, when meeting their brother, you were never bored, you never expected the night you would have with him. You also never assumed he was one to grow grey, he was a flame that always shone too brightly for the world around him and that energy only grew when he was surrounded by those who loved him.


Not wanting to break the moment with words, Claire walked up to where Jamie was and took his hand in hers as she leant her head down on his shoulder. He offered her his glass, offered her the brief flashes of her own memories. It was odd at first how easily she could conjure him, not only with the smoke and whisky, but just the simple act of being near the man next to her.


She was instantly transported to the night they met in that hole in the wall bar that she had stumbled on after her shift; It packed to bursting. For as long as she lived, she would never forget that night. If nothing else, how often do you meet someone because they drunkenly professed their love for you, while reeking of liquor and sporting a rather sizable black eye? She smiled, it growing broader with each memory. Turning her head a bit she kissed Jamie’s shoulder.


Holding her tightly he sighed, and quietly said “I miss him. The bastard.”

You are cold.
Cold like that mysterious cold.
The kind of cold that everyone wants to be around,
Because they want to know what’s under the exterior.
The kind of cold you want at your parties,
Because you know that them being there will be that much better.
the kind of cold that you know holds great advice if you were ever to need it
and if you were to end up having a doorstep conversation you’d come out of it with a new outlook.
You are cold,
My kind of cold.
—  A.K.
It is rather strange .....
  • INTJ: What are you thinking?
  • INTP: Something strange.
  • INTJ: What strange thing do you think of?
  • INTP: It is strange how we fall out of love.
  • INTJ: There is something stranger I think.
  • INTP: What could be more strange than having your heart stop singing for someone?
  • INTJ: The notion that our heart starts singing for someone else rather than ourselves.
  • INTP: What are you implying?
  • INTJ: Is it not strange how we fall in love?
  • INTP: Well, it is rather strange.
  • INTJ: Which one do you think is worth experiencing more?
  • INTP: I'd say it is inevitable to not experience either of these events in life.
  • INTJ: True.

dabchi  asked:

this is the randomest headcanon ever but listen, i ship kent and alexei super hard right?? and obviously jack is the one who introduces them but i feel like tater would call kent "kenny" from the moment they met bc duh, that's what jack calls him, and kent's just slowly dying on the inside bc this beautiful giant cinnamon roll of a man calls him keNNY AND ITS FUCKING ADORABLE esp with the accent oh m y god

*melts* Those two each deserve someone who loves them! What’s the ship name? TELL ME PLEASE!

Jack is secretly pleased because his new bff and his first bff are hooking up and he knows that Tater will take good care of his friend who needs someone to just be there for him. And Kenny will take good care of Tater and make him laugh. Tater and Kit Purrson get along from the get go. Head canon that Kit is a bit of a snobby kitty who doesn’t like anyone but Kent. But the first time she meets Tater she jumps in his lap and rumbles. Tater is like, “Oh this sweet kitten. I like.” And Kent’s heart melts because well he must be “the one” if Kit approves.

send me your check please head canons

EDIT: It appears the ship name is Patater! Rare pair ftw!