and befuddling

Wrong conclusions

In between looking over the evidence Sherlock has been texting someone every now and again. John keeps glancing at him whenever a new message arrives. I’m getting a little worried about the tick in his jaw. Can’t be good for the teeth.

When the phone vibrates yet again he barely manages to bite down on a sigh.

J: Is that Lestrade?

S: Hm? Oh, no. Just Nadda.

Any previous attempt of sounding neutral is ruined when John releases a huff that borders on contemptuous. Sherlock’s head snaps up, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

S: Problem?

J: I don’t have a problem. Why should I? Nadda seems like a nice girl.

Sherlock’s brows crinkle up even further, as he regards John’s tense posture, the way the fingers of his left hand clench and unclench. Then his eyes widen in utter befuddlement.

S: Are you jealous?

John stops. There is no other way of putting it. Apart from a twitch in his left hand, he has frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights. It’s quiet for a second, both of them staring at each other, clearly high strung in anticipation of an argument, before Sherlock throws up his hands in exasperation.

S: Oh, for god’s sake, John. You met the woman once, you can’t possibly be infatuated with her.

John blinks. And blinks. And blinks.

J:  Excuse me?

S: That’s why you have been so distracted. You are jealous. That’s it, isn’t it?

J: I…

S: Well, you can put that idea right out of your mind. Not only is it presumptuous and absurd, but I really don’t think she or her wife would appreciate that kind of attention.

Completely thrown off balance by the unexpected direction this conversation has taken, John seems to have lost his ability to form words. He is gaping at Sherlock, who has gotten up and is stomping towards the kitchen.

There is definately more force than necessary involved in putting on the kettle.

you know how everyone has that hc of andrew scaring his future teammates who get confused when they see him being soft with neil? like, i get that bc of andrews reputation but. neil’s fucking scary. dude has a bunch of fucked up scars all over his arms, chest, and face. prolly never smiles unless it’s to intimidate the opponent or when he’s destroying some reporter who stepped over the line. everyone knows his dad was part of the mob. my point is: neil’s teammates being scared of him until they see him smile and laugh and be soft when other foxes go to his games. even better: andrew going to watch a game one day and neil kissing his cheek before it starts. going back into the field with the goofiest smile. completely befuddling everyone on the field

genzelda  asked:

I want to hug your icon. Can I hug the Icon?

come on down and try your luck

unless you were being literal, which is probably the safer option:

2

I saw a gifset and I told to myself, why the hell haven’t I talked about this?

How he offers his hand, and how he ends up holding hers. When you shake hands with someone and have your palm facing up, it gives a message of submission, that you hand over the power to the other, and vice versa when your palm is facing down. 

At first, he looks like he’s offering his hand palm down. Emma gives him her hand, but he takes it in his in a more gentle hold, hugging her fingers instead of her palm. It’s like he’s ready to bow and kiss it, but he can’t take his eyes away from her sparkling eyes.

“360 No Scope” Aspies are often found to be overwhelmed or befuddled in seemingly simple situations. That is because we often see everything all the time and with so much competing information it makes it hard to focus or pick up on and remember directions.

This is one of the main reasons for my hat. It blocks out everything above me and a lot of what is in front of me when I wear it. I can over ten lower or raise it to take in more or less information and.

TEACHER TIP: If you have a distracted autistic person in your class allow them to put their back against the back wall with the least eyes on them as possible. This cuts out the back facing stimuli and makes it easier to focus.

3

“Hey Spence,” JJ smiled as the tired looking man entered, plopping into his chair beside her as he let out a sigh.

“Good morning,” Spencer greeted, pulling out his buzzing phone and letting his lips form a sleepy smile before he turned off the phone and slipped the phone back into his pocket. When he looked back up he was met with several knowing and smug smiles all aimed towards him which he countered with his own confusion. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“No reason. How’s Y/N by the way?” Derek asked, smiling as Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N? Yeah she’s fine I guess. She was kinda upset yesterday because of work, that’s why I had to leave yesterday,” Spencer explained, looking back to see if Garcia was near yet only to find the walkway was still empty.

“Yeah how are you two?” Emily asked, glancing at Derek before she smirked at Spencer which only worsened his befuddlement.

“I mean, we’re fine I guess. With work it’s been hard to see her like we usually would but we are fine.”

“She’s a great girl Spence,” JJ smiled down at her papers, catching out of the corner of her eye the way Spencer’s mouth kept opening as if to for words and then closing.

“Yeah she is, wait why are you guys bringing her up?” he asked when he finally figured out what to sat.

“Because, I mean, aren’t the two of you… you know,” Derek laughed as he sent Spencer a wink.

“What?”

“Dating? You guys are together right?” Emily asked, the smile leaving her face as she leaned towards Spencer.

“No, why would you think that?”

“Because you are madly in love with her and she is definitely crushing on you,” Derek stated, as if the fact was as plain as day.

“Are you serious?” Spencer questioned, thinking back on the interactions between the two of you, trying to figure out any type of intimacy there.

“Oh my god, how are they not dating?” Garcia asked, popping out from behind the doorframe as she stared at Spencer.

“Get her Spence, get her before she settles for some dumbass because she’s sad you never went for her.”


Gif Credit: gifs do not belong to this blog nor do we make any claim to them

anonymous asked:

Companions and advisors reacting to teenquisitor coming out as trans to them?

Cassandra: She’s a little surprised and confused, but if this makes them feel more secure in who they are, she will do her best to support them. She does ask how they’d like to be referred, and respects their wishes.

Blackwall: “Oh, so you’re like Krem, then? Alright.” He shrugs. “That’s fine with me. Do what feels right for you.”

Iron Bull: He smiles at them reassuringly and nods. “Thanks for letting me know. What pronouns do you want me to use, and do you want me to keep referring to you by your current name or by a different one? Also, let me know if anyone gives you shit. I’ll kick their ass for you.”

Sera: She’s befuddled, and asks a bit of an inappropriate question at first, but she sees it upsets the Herald, so she apologizes and tries her best to be understanding. She pokes around, later, trying to learn more about it, but eventually decides that, shit, if that’s how the Herald feels, that’s how they feel, and she’ll respect it.

Cole: He knew how they felt prior to coming out, and he encouraged them to start transitioning. “You are you. You shouldn’t have to hide it. The parts don’t define you. You define you.” He had always referred to them by their preferred pronouns prior to coming out, much to the befuddlement of the others– save for Bull and Solas, who started to catch on.

Varric: He offers a sympathetic smile. “That’s fine with me, kid. Thanks for telling me. Go ahead and tell me what pronouns you want, and do you still want me to call you by your name? Your nickname? Do you want me to change either? Oh, and if you need anything to help you transition, you let me know, and I’ll get it for you at no charge.”

Solas: He figured it out when Cole called the Herald, consistently, by what pronouns fit them, even prior to coming out. He gently tried to prod them a few times about it, but eventually decided to let them decide what to do on their own. When they finally come out, he shrugs. “I knew as soon as Cole started calling you by your preferred pronouns. It is not an issue to me, and I hope you feel more comfortable with yourself now.”

Vivienne: She takes the knowledge in stride, and merely asks what pronouns they’d prefer and what name they’d like to be referred to. She also asks if they’d like magical assistance to transition, and will either help or drop the subject, depending on the Herald’s response. If she overhears anyone saying anything remotely transphobic about the Herald, she will shut them down and thoroughly humiliate them.

Dorian: “Oh! Well, that makes sense.” He smiles kindly at them. “Good for you. You should never have to pretend to be someone you’re not, though I know very well it’s easier said than done… good on you. You should never live a lie. If you need any assistance with transitioning, I will try to help to the best of my abilities. Oh, and do tell me what pronouns you’d prefer. I will do my best to accommodate you.”

Josephine: She’s surprised, of course, but she’s respectful about it– she just asks to know their preferred pronouns and preferred name, so as to address them correctly, and to write their name and pronouns correctly when writing letters about them. The first few times she does it, she receives a few confused and sometimes transphobic letters in response– which she responds to with a very stern lecture.

Leliana: She’s not surprised at all. She just calmly thanks them for telling her, and reassures them that nothing has changed between them, and that she won’t tolerate anyone who treats them with disrespect due to their gender. To the Herald’s surprise, she immediately starts using the correct pronouns, but they never ask how she knew– the Spymaster seems to know all.

Cullen: He’s not sure at all how to handle it, but he tries to be understanding and respectful. He reassures them that it’s fine by him. He asks what pronouns to use and leaves it to them. He’s just glad they’ll feel more secure in their identity, and he vows to support them.

today at work a lady who was waiting for her friend to get food gave me this funny look and was like “I thought you guys played christian music in here!”

we did once play exclusively praise music, but my boss made the executive decision to shuffle in some secular stuff on pandora, and I told her as much (without mentioning that I was pretty glad of the change b/c non-stop casting crowns gets pretty monotonous after eight hours).

to which she replied, with this almost too-wide smile on her face, “right, because this is not a christian song!  the devil is in the airwaves and if you let him get in here he’ll just keep going!  I’m serious!  he’s there!”

I was sort of befuddled and taken aback so all I could manage to say was a sort of weak ha-ha-what kind of “okay?!”

and then she was gone and I was left with jason mraz’s I’m yours of all songs playing on the speakers.  ah, yes.  the devil.

(this post is not made with the intention of bashing christians as a whole, it was just this weird, surreal experience I wanted to share. @v@ most of the people who come through the cafe are pretty chill.)

Watch Hillary Clinton Endure 40 Years Of Sexism In Under 3 Minutes

You’re really not all that interested in state dinners and teas and garden parties?” a befuddled male interviewer asked Hillary Clinton in 1979.

A new video mashup shows that reporters have been asking Clinton why she doesn’t fit into a neat little box of what a woman is supposed to be for decades.

Reasons to Love Pirates of the Caribbean #19

Look at these common laborers staring into the distance. From the score to the panning shot of their befuddled faces, you would think they were marveling at something spectacular, otherworldly, breathtaking! Two of the men are even pointing while the rest of them just stand idle.

But of course they’re looking at Jack, standing proud atop the miniature crow’s nest, barrel chested with pride as his humble boat approaches the docks! He certainly is a marvel isn’t he? So charismatic, so proud, so….

…Oh

Takes place after Lance’s moment of self deprecation, because his helmet comm system was probably on the whole time. I’m on such a roll. 

Season Two Voltron Spoilers Ahead


“Hey Lance?”

Lance barely looked up from underneath Blue’s foot, where he was busy greasing some of her canons that had gotten dull during their fighting. “What’s up, Pidgeotto?”

Pidge rolled her eyes at the name but didn’t protest it, shifting from foot to foot and glancing off to the side, fingers nervously twisting around each other. “Um…I wanted…I wanted to apologize.”

A “thunk!” rang from underneath Blue as Lance sat straight up without thinking. He cursed in Altean, something the whole group was picking up quickly, and rolled out from under Blue, rubbing his forehead. “What?”

Keep reading

Alex wants Maggie to Teach Her™

I have been wanting to do this for so long: for those of you who don’t automatically get the reference, or want a refresher, this little pre-Sanvers minific is based on this scene from Grey’s Anatomy.


There’s a knock on the door – just two soft, nervous raps – and Maggie, in a grey tee and black sweats, trudges to answer, befuddled at the idea of company at this hour.

She opens the door and it’s Alex, Alex, fuck, the woman she’s been so desperately trying not to sleep with, the woman who’s just coming out, who has too much to learn, who’s too wide-eyed and vulnerable to be with someone like Maggie.

But before Maggie can even open her mouth – hell, before Maggie can even properly process – Alex is speaking.

“You saved her life. That woman, you ran into that warehouse and you saved her life, she’s alive.”

Maggie’s jaw is open and she can barely breathe, let alone speak, so she says nothing, and for a moment, Alex doesn’t either. Until Alex is stepping past Maggie’s stunned body, side-stepping her and walking a few paces into her living room before turning, before breathing, before sighing, before doing that nervous little thing she does with her hands, before speaking again.

“I respect you. As a woman. As a cop, as someone who’s not fresh off the gay boat, I respect you.”

Maggie’s door is still open and her jaw is still open and her eyes are even more open when Alex shrugs her jacket to the ground with a deep breath and a nervous demand.

“So… teach me.”

“What’re you doin – ” Maggie tries to splutter, Maggie tries to protest, because Alex is leaning over to balance on the couch with one hand and taking off her shoes with the other. “Don’t do that. Stop.”

But even as she slips off her shoe, Alex doesn’t take her wide, eager eyes off Maggie’s face. “Teach me,” she says again, her voice so much smaller than it ever is in the field.

Maggie exhales harshly and shuts her front door with a snap and turns back to Alex, Alex, who’s working on her other shoe now, still staring at her face.

“Stop,” Maggie pleads, not because she doesn’t want Alex – god, she does, and Alex knows, because they’ve talked about it, but she also knows that she’s fresh off the boat, that those relationships never work out.

That she has so much to learn. Which is apparently why she’s here, because she says it again. “Teach me.”

“We can’t do this, you’re just coming out, and and and I wanna do what’s best for you, and I… I’m your friend.”

So,” Alex rebuts, fingering the hem of her purple sweater. “Teach me.” She tugs her sweater off and her camisole is lacy and Maggie groans with frustrated need and puts her hand on her own face in a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of self control.

“Na, Alex.”

“Teach me,” Alex says again, tossing her sweater down with deliberation, swiping the hair out of her face.

Maggie’s hands are on her hips and she’s trying to stare at the ground, just the ground, between them, but Alex is sighing and Alex is breathing “Teach me” again, and she’s tugging her camisole off now and her bra is some kind of maroon and her hair is swept across her face and she sighs with a small, insecure tremble in her voice.

“Come on, am I really so bad?” She glances down at her own body, stares across at Maggie’s wrecked face, stares because they’re grown women and they want each other and sure Maggie’s trying to do the right thing but doesn’t Alex get a say in defining what’s right for her and god, no, she’s not bad at all, quite the opposite, she’s perfect.

“No. I am,” Maggie rasps solemnly, because maybe it’s against her better judgement but god, we should kiss the girls we want to kiss, and Maggie just wants to kiss Alex, and Alex’s eyes are wide, are scared, are hopeful as Maggie strides forward to close the gap between them, pulling Alex down into a kiss with her hands under her hair on either side of her face, and Alex is swooning and Alex is wrapping her arms around Maggie’s shoulders and Maggie intends to fulfill Alex’s every wish, starting with teaching her everything she’s ever learned about making a woman happy.