and then got it again after one of the size updates

3 acts of malicious compliance in one project rewarded with 4 days of leave fully paid.

This is quite long sorry but I feel it needs the back story to understand the whole thing. TL;DR at the end.

I used to work for a mining company as a Geologist. I left and a few years later was employed by them again but in a very different role dealing mostly with compliance based stuff.

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Drarry Proposal/Wedding Headcanons

requested by @asexualthirteenthdoctor (she didn’t ask for this specific prompt, I just picked it because I’ve never done it before and I felt like it lol) ((also I’m a sop))

  • Draco was the one who proposed.
  • It was Harry’s birthday, and they were having a party at the Burrow. Nothing fancy; Harry didn’t like fuss. It was mostly family, although that was quite a few people these days. 
  • Draco had asked for Arthur and Molly’s blessing weeks before since they were, in effect, Harry’s parents. He knew Harry would think it was silly, but he wanted to do the thing properly. 
  • He’d had a terrible time figuring out Harry’s ring size without him catching on.
  • In the end, he’d just checked while Harry was asleep, and it was no easy feat, but he’d managed.
  • Obviously, it wasn’t a complete surprise to Harry; they’d talked about getting married before, and they had agreed that when they thought about their future, it was hard to imagine any of it without thinking of them as a pair, a team, a permanent couple.
  • Also Harry was definitely awake while Draco was trying to measure his left ring finger so it wasn’t a difficult leap.
  • So, there they were, on Harry’s 23rd birthday, sitting around a table together outside of the Burrow. 
  • Harry’s policy for birthdays was always food first, then presents “if you must.”
  • “I’m just here for the company and Molly’s cake,” he always said. 
  • It was a fantastic cake that year, by the way. It always was, but this year it seemed like it was particularly good for some reason. 
  • And everyone was feeling pleasantly warm and full when Draco stood up and said, “Well, let’s get on with the gifts then, shall we?”
  • “Oh, what’ve you done this year?” Harry groaned. “I told you, we don’t need any vacation homes in Monaco– Ron, what’re you on about?”
  • Ron was laughing so hard he’d managed to snort pumpkin juice through his nose, and Hermione was thumping him on the back in a manner that suggested she partly wanted to keep him from choking and partly wanted him to shut up.
  • “Harry?”
  • When Harry looked round again, Draco was on one knee, and the whole garden had gone quiet except for the sounds of the chirping crickets, the odd swearing garden gnome, and Ron blowing his nose in the tablecloth.
  • And for a long moment, Harry was silent too.
  • Finally, Draco said, “Well?”
  • “What, you haven’t got a speech prepared?”
  • “I, er– no, actually, I didn’t think I’d need one.”
  • “Yes.”
  • “I mean, if you want, I can still do one, I just sort of assumed I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise–”
  • “I said yes.”
  • “It’s no trouble, really, I just don’t know where I should start. Probably not with you arse, there’s children present, er–”
  • “Draco.”
  • “What?”
  • “I’ve said yes, now give me the damn ring and kiss me already.”
  • And Draco did just that.
  • They spent the following months remodeling Grimmauld Place thoroughly, disposing of the elf heads once and for all. It was updated with happier colors, far less mold, better plumbing, and some other Muggle contraptions that Draco pretended to be indignant over. 
  • The wedding plans fell to Narcissa and Molly, since Harry would’ve married Draco in Borgin and Burke’s if he’d asked.
  • Obviously, Draco had tried.
  • After he spent three days following Harry around the house and holding fabric swatches up to his face to see which colors would complement his complexion the best, he was banned from all wedding organization. 
  • All they did was set a date: May 2nd. 
  • Harry’s reasoning was that it was always such a difficult time of year for the community. He thought it might be nice to have something to look forward to, and maybe the press hounding them for interviews about their wedding would give people something to look forward to besides reliving the pain and grief of the war. 
  • They also came to the agreement that they couldn’t be arsed to have a traditional wedding. 
  • They got married in Godric’s Hollow, but they couldn’t cram everyone into the tiny chapel, so they made use of a large field and set up the big tent that they’d used for Bill and Fleur’s wedding years ago. 
  • Hermione, as a member of the Wizengamot (the youngest in history), presided over the ceremony. 
  • Ron was Harry’s best man, along with George, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. 
  • They all wore green dress robes and bowties (Luna used hers to tie back her hair). 
  • Draco’s groomsmen were Goyle and Blaise; Pansy demanded the title of Maid of Honor, and she assisted quite a bit with the planning as well, including a joint stag night for Harry and Draco that nobody remembers to this day. 
  • They all wore gold dress robes.
  • Teddy was six and couldn’t be trusted not to put the rings in his mouth (eating things that weren’t food was something he still hadn’t quite grown out of), and he preferred to be the flower boy anyway, so he wore a flower crown and threw handfuls of rose petals at various people as he walked down the aisle. 
  • Victoire, who was more responsible even though she was only five, was the ring bearer.
  • She ran out after Teddy when she saw him throwing rose petals at people. 
  • “Teddy, stop it! Granny said you’re meant to do it nice.”
  • “I am doing it nice.”
  • “Are not!”
  • “Am so.” 
  • Tori dumped the rose petals on his head and asked him how he liked it.
  • Teddy wore the basket they’d been in as a hat and said he liked it very much, thanks, Tori.
  • After that everything went smoothly. 
  • It was a beautiful ceremony. Everyone cried. 
  • Harry and Draco both broke down while exchanging vows and Teddy and Tori were both very concerned.
  • Their solution was for Teddy to wrap himself around Harry’s leg and Tori to do likewise with Draco’s. It made sense at the time. 
  • The reception was brilliant, too. George and Ron did fireworks. 
  • Harry and Draco’s first dance song was “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” by Frankie Valli and it was great, especially because they’re both terrible dancers. 
  • Harry threw a bouquet and Ron caught it. He achieved a shade of purple that was previously unrecorded and tried to hand it off to Ginny, who was laughing too hard to take it from him. 
  • A good time was had by all.

anonymous asked:

somehow i ended up looking at bratz dolls on amazon and there are some with big heads and feet and some with smaller heads and feet that are more proportional. whatsupwiththat

Different eras, the originals had big heads and chunky feet.

Over the years from the launch until 09 the heads and bodies stayed the same but the feet being a separate part that detached could be updated. So as styles in footwear changed they did too, so they’d still be big but also pointy instead of rounded.

After the Mattel lawsuit MGA lost the rights to Bratz and had to stop making them. When they won the rights back because a judge ruled it was just sour grapes by Mattel and that they had to learn to deal with competition for real and not just litigate to death, MGA got the rights back.

They came back with dolls with slightly smaller feet and re-sculpted (but roughly the same size) heads and bodies.

By 2014 the damage done by Mattel’s lawsuit was taking it’s toll and MGA made a few lines with bodies very similar to the Barbie fashionista bodies (the old articulated ones not the new static ones) the heads and feet were the same the bodies just made them look more proportional.

They didn’t sell well and they took a years hiatus to relaunch.

In 2015 they came out with new dolls that tried to redo the Bratz concept for the new generation of like, political dolls cause we live in an age when a doll can’t just be pretty and fun and has to have some stupid “empowering message”.

They enlarged the heads and feet and completely redid the whole doll.

They lasted for a couple of years but really really didn’t sell well. Bratz fans hated them because they spat in the face of everything Bratz was and had been all to appease mommy bloggers who thought Bratz was too edgy.

Once again MGA took a hiatus on the brand, and this time went back to the roots, they completely purged ALL icons, branding and content related to the 2015 dolls from all social media and reverted to the original 2001 logo and slogan and are launching the brand as a collectors brand for adult doll collectors who are tried of the childish designs of brands like Barbie.

Those are 2 of the 5 dolls coming out. I really can’t wait tbh.

2.3k of 12.11 coda. spoilers, duh. angst, episode content, etc. it’s sad but there’s a happy ending. (ao3)

He can’t take his eyes off of his reflection. He’s crying but he’s not really sure why.

There’s something… he’s forgetting something. Everything? Something.

Dean wipes his face off and splashes water on it, a vague sense of deja vu overtaking him. He feels - he doesn’t know how to describe it. Something’s wrong, very wrong, but he’s not sure what.

He leans forward to rest his forehead on the wall and feels something in his front pocket hit the sink. 

He pulls it out hoping it’ll have a clue or a hint what he’s forgetting. 

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How do I portfolio?

~A Handy Portfolio Guide~

Hey, so I’ve gotten multiple submissions now (some quite good) that were submitted without a portfolio.  I think someone people seemed confused about how to put together a portfolio (as well as what it is), so I’m putting together a guide for anyone in need of assistance!

What is a portfolio?
A portfolio is just a collection showing off your best work.  It should consist of at least 3-5 finished pieces (not sketches).  The pieces you provide should show you can draw the human figure, as well as your style as an artist.  (I know some people say “I don’t have a personal style D:, but believe me, if you draw, you will have a style).  Things we look for in art: composition, color, style, and ability.  

Why is a portfolio important?  
As someone who is reviewing art, sometimes just linking to social media sites can be difficult.  Sometimes with tumblr, I’ll have to scroll through reblogs of other people’s art, and it can be difficult to tell what exactly I’m looking at.  Same goes for twitter or instagram: it can be hard for me to find your actual art when I might have to scroll through the latest discourse on your favorite ship or pictures of your cat.  Having a portfolio puts your art in one concise place for me (or another zine runner) to look at. 

How do I make a portfolio?
First, decide what pieces you want to include and save them at a web ready size (i.e I usually do 600 pixels by 900 pixels at 72 dpi.  You can do larger or smaller, but don’t go smaller than 500px on the longest size).  

Okay, you’ve got some images.  Now go to a place like Google Drive, flickr, or deviantART.  Google Drive is usually pretty good because you can share it privately.  So if you’re shy about your work, you can share it so only I can see it.  UPLOAD UR PICS.  After that, put them in a folder, so all the images are in one place.  Then link this in the submission form.  

That’s it!  You’re done!  Congrats- you have officially portfolioed.

It should be noted, lots of zines and projects require portfolios, not just this one.  So you can reuse your portfolio again and again if you wanna submit to multiple things!  I recommend updating your portfolio every couple of months or so.  As you continue to improve as an artist over time, I recommend dropping weak pieces and replacing them with fresh, new pieces.  That’s pretty much all that is required for maintaining a portfolio.

Hope that helps!  Happy portfolio-ing!  


A/N: @read-a-hinny-fic pointed out that the hinny fandom is lacking bed share fics so I wrote one hehe.  I hope it satisfies.  It’s an AU where Harry and Ginny didn’t get together in HBP but everything else is the same…

Please let me know what you think!

Also available on FF and Ao3!

Also I think these people were all interested? @dameesmeralda; @diva-gonzo; @thetruthisinthetooth

It’s raining the day Harry realizes his life has been devoured by work.  Not that rain in London is particularly novel, but it still feels more dramatic when milestones in self-understanding occur with thunder in the background.  And the real development is less about the concept of being overworked – because Hermione’s been badgering him about the very same for the last eight months – and more about the fact that he realizes why he’s been obsessively working.


Which doesn’t mean it’s her fault, just that she was the catalyst that made an already work obsessed Harry ratchet up to such a degree that Hermione Jean Granger said he was working too hard.  The Ginny Prompt is really because he runs out of excuses for not asking her out – i.e. Voldemort, mourning, Ginny’s return to Hogwarts for her Seventh Year – so he apparently subconsciously created one.

The rainy day is a Saturday, and Ginny has a game – the second of her rookie season with the Harpies – and Harry’s not there because he’s a self-sabotaging git. At least that’s what Ron grumbles at him when he gets dragged into Harry’s voluntary overtime shifts.  And on this rainy Saturday, Harry decides he’s going to stop floundering and just ask Ginny out.  His heart thuds at the thought, and now he has to spend the next three hours of his shift mentally calculating the many ways this plan could go sideways.  Which involves a lot of scenarios with angry, violent Ginny and a permanent end of the Potter line.

So it’s a miracle that he’s still on board with the plan when he clocks out for the evening, which was largely boring aside from the two-hour call in Sheffield where they apprehended a small band of smugglers bringing illegal potions into the country.  By the time he finishes his paperwork he’s stayed a half hour late, but he’s so revved up to see Ginny at this point that his brain doesn’t even register the time until he’s mid knock on the door to her flat in Holyhead. 

He’s too committed now, to bag out, so Harry spends the ensuing wait for an answer concocting various ends for this scene, which largely entail muscular, faceless men answering the door in their pants.  So when the door cracks open just enough to reveal one of Ginny’s squinting chocolate brown eyes and her sleep mussed hair, Harry lets out his breath in a gush and blurts, “WillyougooutwithmeGinny?”

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After Midnight - Snowbound Extra

Does this count as a blurb? it’s the shortest piece yet, that’s for sure, so maybe. Thank you as usual to everyone who reads and enjoys and to those who don’t – you’re part of this all, too – and thank you for writing in when you’re able to, because you make me smile. Thanks as usual to @inkedferns who helped me figure out what I was posting this week. 

Update August 2, 2016: If this were released in line with the rest of the story, it would come about now, just after Memory Bound. Take a peek if you haven’t before and let the rest of the story fill you in! x

This borrows the setting for another yet-to-be-posted story, so now you’ve got a sneak peek at something that’s coming down the pike eventually. There’s fluff, there’s smut, and there’s allusions to Harry having a family (Dad Harry ftw). It stands well alone, though, and I hope it amuses. x. 

Harry freezes almost the moment he steps into his apartment. It’s quiet, but there’s a very lived-in hum floating through it, and he’s instantly on guard. This was his weekend to have you and his son over, but he’d found out he had to be in studio late and had called you with a heavy heart as he told you he wasn’t going to be able to make it. You hadn’t sounded very disappointed, and he had sworn to you that he’d make it up to you both on Saturday and Sunday, and you could even stay an extra day if you wanted (he sorely hoped you would – five days was starting to stretch and feel impossible).

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We Got Friday Nights

A little friends to lovers drabble/one shot for @thesschesthair​ cos she likes them and she is awesome!

also on and ao3

When your best friend is gorgeous, smart and one of the most decent people you’d ever met, it makes sense that people would think you were a couple. Of course every time this happened to Killian Jones and Emma Swan they’d laugh it off and say there was no chance that anything like that could ever happen.

They were friends - for almost five years - and they quite liked it that way.

Only one time, she had seriously considered it.

They were in the middle of this health kick - running a few times a week after Emma had almost collapsed chasing a skip up a fire escape. Killian had offered to run with her - it wasn’t safe for her to be running around on her own, he’d said - she’d rolled her eyes and reminded him that she could take care of herself and that Storybrooke was hardly the crime capital of New England. He’d still insisted on joining her.

One Saturday he’d knocked on her apartment door, too early for the sun even to have peeked over the horizon. The park was deserted as they pounded the trails in companionable silence until it began to rain. A fine mist at first, it quickly graduated into a heavy downpour with large, freezing drops saturating them in seconds as they raced to the cover of the trees.

Killian laughed when she slipped in the mud, his hands coming up to her waist to halt her fall -  they were warm, even through her soaked t-shirt. He was close enough she could really appreciate those damn blue eyes of his that never saw him leave a bar without at least one phone number (wanted or not). His hair had fallen over those eyes. She’d told him a dozen times to cut it and he always just shrugged. Water dripped down those silky tendrils, drizzling across his cheek. Dazed, she’d stared at his perfect face.

For a second, she’d forgotten who he was ( her best friend ) and why they’d never been more than that (she didn’t do relationships or men in general, he just didn’t do commitment). For a moment he was just a handsome, perfect guy who she was very attracted to… so she reached up and brushed away the rogue strands, her fingers sliding down his cheek, reluctant to break the contact. It was okay- just for that moment - to let herself get lost in the smile he gave her and to imagine what it would be like to kiss those lips and for those hands to tighten at her waist and draw her close.

They’d hugged a thousand times. But that was different, because he was her friend and every hug they shared was devoid of that pulling tension she felt right then. Warmth radiated from him as the rain tumbled through the pine trees. She let herself daydream for a few perilous moments about a “them” - a dream of cozy dates and tangled limbs and kisses and-

Then, of course, reality kicked in. The rain vanished, the sun replacing it in the blink of an eye. He’d tugged on her shoulder, rousing her out of the dream as he asked her if she was ready to head back. She’d smiled and nodded, avoiding his gaze until her feet found that rhythm again on the mossy footpaths, each step pushing that idea further away.

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ccehrler-deactivated20171002  asked:

Ok. Here we go. Let's do... avengers x reader? I guess specifically Bucky x reader What if... avengers find reader amongst Hydra files and locate her only to find out she has no memories of her own, but has all Bucky's memories. What if there was no machine and she was the memory eraser and the more she erased Bucky's memories, the more she lost her own and gained his?!! Angst, some fluff, I think you can cook something up MCU of course ;) Ooo this is gonna be fun

Hi, dear! Thanks a lot for taking part to this celebration, and sending in such a marvelous idea!

I hope you’ll like how it came out in the end.

Soldier and Eraser

Pairing: Avengers x reader, Bucky x reader

Warnings: oh well, this is difficult… there are so many bad things in here; I’ll try but I’m sure that I won’t be able to name everything, so just be cautious. Lots of angst, some fluff, violence (mostly mentioned more than depicted), manipulation, messed up minds and induced way to think, stealing, passing frontiers illegally, swearing and bad language, allusion to sex and to the use of it as part of a conditioned behavior, guilt feelings, … and probably something else.

Notes: this is quite a mental trip, sorry. The story begins soon after the events of CA:TWS; and X-men and the Avengers coexist in the same universe, but normally they mind their own business and do not really interact much, unless they are interested in the same thing. (I have heard that in the comics they should live in the same universe, but that in the movies they are apart because of licenses or something like that. By the way, I haven’t read enough comics to have an idea of their coexistence there, I have mostly just watched the movies. And I’ve thought that for this fic it would have been useful if they lived in the same universe. That’s all.) I’d really love if you could leave some feedback!

Word count: 7094 (Yep, this is much longer than my usual.)

Originally posted by busygina

Steve reviews the files of the folder Natasha has given him. It has been weeks and not him nor Sam have been able to find any good lead on Bucky. He absentmindedly turns page after page. His eyes fall on something handwritten on a corner.

‘Always keep the eraser to hand.’

Few pages later another note.

‘Keep the eraser out of cryo as long as the soldier.’

Steve frowns. There are mention of the ‘eraser’ through the entire dossier and until now, he has supposed that it should be some kind of machine, but a machine would never be kept under cryostasis. The ‘eraser’ must be some kind of living being.

Steve updates Sam on the new piece of info he has just discovered.

“Wait a minute.” Sam hums on the other hand of the line. Few seconds of silence follow. “I knew it! Meet me by my house in an hour. We can have a lead.”

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Love at First Bite - Recovery (KYUNGSOO, pt. 9) [Chronicles of the Wolf series]

Since you guys were so patient with me, here is a slightly longer update! Please, enjoy ♥


You found yourself on your knees on the ground, unsure how you even got there. Yijie was still sobbing, but Luhan was still murmuring to her in a language you didn’t understand. Someone crawled over to you, Haerin maybe… and you felt arms wind around you. The two of you crawled to your feet together, and you shook your head to try and be rid of the ringing in your ears.

There was an eerie silence. Bom and Bora had put away their weapons, and Minseok had gone to Junmyeon’s side, assisting the shifted alpha to his feet.

You gasped at the long gashes on his chest and shoulders, the cuts lining his arms and the blood all over his face.

“J-Junmyeon-sshi…” you murmured.

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It’s that time of year again, time to shill out that hard to get bob merch with pre-orders

If you or a friend will be at Everfree Northwest this year, and you’d like to make sure you get yourself a bob blanket, I’mma open up preorders for them now. The designs for Bronycon 2017′s blankets are here:

and here:

Both these designs are going to be updated with a LOT of new art on top of all the old art you see here. So you can expect the same overall but with tons of new additions.

Why haven’t you updated the design files yet so we can see all the new stuff bob? Well because I love stress and am drawing new art all the way up to the deadline to submit these things for the order (specifically Tempest and a new collab Sweetie, both of which will be added to their respective blankets)

I expect most people that are interested in these preorders will have felt/seen the older ones at EFNW 2017, and those people should know that I’ve updated the material and size of the blankets as well. They’re even softer than they used to be (longer plush fibers), and they’re much larger at a queen size instead of the old 60x50 inches. Oh, and best of all, they’re cheaper. These blankets are bigger, softer, include significantly more art, and are now 20 bucks cheaper than they used to be! (from 120 to 100 dollars)

If you’re interested in a preorder, drop me a PM here on tumblr, or you can hmu on twitter or deviantart if that’s more your thing. You or a friend must be in attendance at the convention to pick up the blanket, and the preorders are $110 usd (the extra ten covers paypal/square fees). If you can’t afford a preorder right now or would like to wait to see the designs in person, I’ll still be bringing something like an extra ten of each blanket to the convention so you’ll be able to check them out.

My blankets sold out in the first 13 minutes of the vendor hall opening last year (one woman said she wanted to buy 4 of them, AFTER they had all sold out friday morning, it was nuts), so if you really want one I think you should seriously consider the preorder. If you do choose to preorder a blanket, thank you so so much, these things help me to afford my plane ticket/hotel for the convention itself and I couldn’t make it to these things without nutcases like you that think my art is worth something lol

These preorders will remain open until around noon central time on April 10th, so you’ve got a few days to mull it over if you’re interested.

Thanks y’all, can’t wait to see you guys at EFNW this year!

(this image isn’t mine!! credit to whoever owns it, i couldn’t find the original xx)

Patching Things Up

Summary: Fighting with Peter is never fun, but when you take it a bit too far things get a little dicey. You end up having to try to fix your relationship (and a pretty beat up Peter) and find yourself discovering a little more about him than you expected

Warnings: Blood is mentioned but it’s nothing too bad :)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: Angst + Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: WOAH my other writing thing got a bunch of notes for no reason omg I hope to keep posting and eventually make a masterlist?? but yeah enjoy!


Peter was your close friend and you’d do absolutely anything for him, but man did he piss you off sometimes. You both were generally very easygoing and sweet people, but sometimes your opinions and viewpoints clashed dramatically. You argued about things ranging from what toppings to order on your pizza to who was the worst at math. Almost every argument you had was over silly stuff and you two made up instantly when you were finished. There was one exception though.

Spiderman. When you first found out about Peter’s secret you were stoked. It was an accident, of course. Ned let it slip one day when the two of you were talking and, against his wishes, you confronted Peter about it.

“I can’t believe you never told me!” you gushed excitedly. “There’s so many things I want to ask. Can you talk to actual spiders? Do webs come out of your butt? Spiders use poison to make their food mushy so they can eat it, is that what you do? I’ve never noticed.”

“How did you… Ned, are you serious?” Peter asked, his voice strained. “Y/N you weren’t supposed to find out. You have to swear not to tell anyone.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you said with a wink. “It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway, but I’ll keep it to myself.”

“What, you don’t think Peter Parker can take on massive villains with crazy weapons and stuff?” he asked, looking mildly offended.

“Honestly? Not really,” you admitted. “No offense Pete, you’re just not that threatening or tough.” His eyes flashed and you knew this was going to be the beginning of something.

“Well that sucks because I don’t see you risking your life every single night fighting bad guys ten times your size,” he said angrily. “I get beat up really badly all the time but you should see the other guy. I like to think I’m somewhat good at what I do.” You stared at him for a second, your mind processing what he just said.

“Peter you have to stop,” you said suddenly. He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Y-you want me to stop? Stop being Spiderman?”

“Yes,” you hesitated. “It’s so dangerous, what would I do if something bad happened to you? God, I can’t believe this. What if you’d gotten killed? Please, you have to stop.” He took a step away from you, looking hurt.

“Y/N I have to do this,” he said. “If I don’t then so many more people are in danger. Don’t you get it? I can save people! I’ve already saved people. Isn’t that more important than whether or not I get some bruises once in a while? It’s so selfish of you to even say that!” His voice raised as he went, his emotions running wild. For as long as you’d known Peter he had never raised his voice like that at you. You could feel your heart pumping faster as you glared at him.

“If you keep being Spiderman we can’t be friends.” As soon as you said it you regretted it. The look on his face was like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t been friends for very long but you were still extremely close and you knew life without Peter would totally suck. It wasn’t an empty threat though. His safety was really important to you and you hated the idea of him setting off every night to go get knocked around.

“I won’t,” he said in a low voice. You blinked, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Then I guess we’re not friends anymore.”

“I guess not.” He didn’t look away, his gaze defiant and strong. You suddenly understood where Spiderman’s bravery came from. You readjusted the backpack on your shoulder and turned away, walking away from him.

It has been a few weeks since the fight had gone down and neither of you had spoken since. You were ashamed of your behavior but were too stubborn to go back on your word. It wasn’t really fair of you to ask him to give it up entirely but he had to understand the gravity of the situation. You checked the news obsessively every night to see if there was any information about Spiderman. You followed update accounts on twitter and even downloaded news apps with live coverage just in case. Every time Peter missed a day at school you were filled with anxiety and fear that he wouldn’t ever come back. You used Ned as a resource to find out how Peter was doing. Ned, caught in the middle, would always desperately ask you to talk to him again. He claimed that Peter had gotten really closed off and irritable and was ignoring just about everyone. It hurt you, but you were determined to prove a point.

One night when you were about to hop in the shower after a particularly long day your phone started going off like crazy. All kinds of notifications were popping up about a huge scale accident by Coney Island that involved one of the Avenger’s planes. Spiderman had been seen there, and from the looks of it he must have gotten pretty badly injured. Panic seized your body as you thought of Peter lying helplessly in the wreckage. You tried to shake it off. He was probably fine, this was his decision anyway. You decided to ignore it for the time being and just shower.

You were in the middle of drying yourself off when you heard the doorbell ring. You froze, your imagination spewing out worst case scenarios. You were home alone and there was a very slim chance it was your parents. What if it was a murderer? It would totally suck to be killed naked. The doorbell rang again a second and third time though and at that point your curiosity got the best of you. Your pulled your towel tightly around you and went to check the front door. You looked through the peep hole and saw a familiar face.

Peter. You swung the door open and almost passed out at the sight before you. He looked as if he had been in a gang fight or something. His entire face was cut and scratched with dark purple spots around his eyes. His lip was bleeding as well as a spot on his cheek. He was wearing a hoodie but he hadn’t bothered to put different pants over the suit, and you could see it had been ripped a few times.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed. “Peter, what happened? Never mind, tell me later. My god, sit down.” Your mind was reeling as you desperately tried to think of how to fix his wounds. Peter cleared his throat, disrupting your thoughts.

“Not to be creepy but can you put on clothes first? I’m hurt but I’m not dying and it’s kinda awkward…” His voice came out raspy but still carried the joking tone. Heat rushed to your face and you nodded, running back to your bathroom to quickly get your pajamas on. When you came back Peter was laying on the couch, his eyes closed. You sat down next to him gingerly and he looked up at you.

“Y/N… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. He sounded exhausted and defeated. “Y-you were right. Putting myself in harm’s way is stupid and I can’t always handle things on my own. I can’t do anything on my own, actually. I need you to talk to me again, I’m slowly going insane. I missed you so much and it was so much worse than any pain I’ve ever gone through in my whole life.” You swallowed hard, holding back tears. He looked so incredibly vulnerable and it broke your heart that what you had done upset him so much.

“Peter, listen…” you started but he cut you off.

“I-If you want I’ll even give up on Spiderman.” You paused for a second. He was really willing to give up such an important part of his life just to get you to talk to him again. You realized that being a hero was just who he was, and his selflessness made you feel really proud.

“I don’t want you to,” you said gently. “We need someone like you out there protecting us. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, I guess I’m not as good of a person as you are. I’m still gonna be upset when you get hurt like this but if it’s what you want to do then I shouldn’t be the one to stop you.” He grinned and his smile even reached his tired eyes. You missed seeing that smile and it lifted your spirits.

“I can deal with you being grumpy sometimes, it’s better than nothing. I had to listen to Ned talk about computer programming for like an hour yesterday and nobody came to my rescue. Maybe that can be your superpower?”

“Maybe,” you chuckled. “Now, do you want ice or something? You look terrible. Not that you don’t always look terrible, Parker.” He laughed, cringing at the pain shooting up his side. You looked at him nervously, unsure of how to help him.

“Ice sounds great actually,” he said. You nodded and rushed to the freezer to find an ice pack. You wrapped it in a thin towel so that it wouldn’t be super cold and brought it back to him. His face was drained of all color and there were beads of sweat all across his forehead.

“Pete, I think you might have a concussion,” you said as you eyed the bump on his head. “Your pupils are all dilated and you’re turning black and blue.”

“I’m fine,” he declared as he sat up, the look in his eyes showing he immediately regretted his decision. “Actually do you… I need to go throw up.” You helped him up and guided him to the bathroom. He insisted that he was good on his own and you waited anxiously outside the door, listening to him coughing and retching. You were a wreck. Your nursing skills were slim to none and you were basically useless in this situation. You did, however, have a driver’s license and you decided that you needed to take Peter to the hospital.

“Ok, I’m fine now,” he said as he emerged. He looked ghostly pale and generally ragged.

“Yeah, no,” you said. “I’m taking you to a doctor. I’ll call your aunt and let her know what’s going on, let’s go.”

“Y/N I don’t need a doctor,” he argued. “I feel great! I just want to stay here… Can I crash with you? Will your parents be mad?” You considered it for a moment. Your parents wouldn’t care, they’d known Peter for a while and trusted you enough to have him over. The thought of not having his head checked out made you a little nervous but when you looked at his pleading face you couldn’t say no.

“Fine, but you have to stay close to me in case something happens. I’ll find you a garbage can or something if you feel like you’re going to be sick again. Do you want a change of clothes? I have some of your shirts that you’ve left here.”

“That would be fantastic,” he said weakly. “I’m really sorry, this is all my fault.” He apologized about seven times in a row as you went to grab him a t-shirt.

“Peter, you know I love it when I’m right but if you could please shut up for like a minute that would be great.” You handed him the shirt and he just stared up at you. You raised your eyebrows and he smiled awkwardly.

“I’m wearing the suit under this and I don’t have other pants,” he told you. You rolled your eyes and he laughed despite the pain.

“You have boxers right? I’m not in middle school, I can handle it. Besides, it can’t be any more embarrassing than the skin-tight suit.”

“What’s wrong with the suit?” he asked defensively. You shook your head, not ready to start another argument with him. He carefully pulled off the hoodie and you gasped. There was blood all over the front of the suit that had been hidden from your sight by the sweatshirt.

“I’m good!” he exclaimed, trying to remind you. He pushed the button on the front of his suit and it fell down in a heap on the floor. You got a good look at his chest which was a lot more muscular than you would have thought. There was a big gash going down from his rib cage to his lower stomach that thankfully seemed to have stopped bleeding.

“Hey,” he said. “My eyes are up here.” You felt your face flush and he giggled.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed. “Since when do you have abs? I thought you were a nerd?”

“W-what? Oh uh I guess I just got fit from… fighting crime and stuff,” he stammered. He yanked the shirt over his head, all the carefulness from earlier abandoned. The two of you usually didn’t flirt or feel any weird tension, but suddenly the air felt stifling. He gazed over at you, clearly feeling the awkward mood settling as well.

“Hey, you know maybe I should go and…” you started to say, trailing off as Peter stepped closer to you cautiously. Your heart was beating so loud you were sure that he could hear it too. He looked as nervous as you felt, but the distance between you was closing rapidly. Soon enough he was right in front of you, his eyes fixed on your mouth. You knew what was going on, you just wouldn’t have ever guessed Peter would initiate it like this. His lips dangerously close to yours, he paused.

“Is this ok?” he murmured. You nodded slowly and he went for it. There was the faint taste of copper from the blood on his bottom lip, but that didn’t bother you. You pulled away first, your mind racing. What did this mean for you? Were you friends still or something else?

“Peter, I-” you said softly, but he beat you to it.

“I-I don’t know why I did that,” he said. “I just… I was thinking about what would happen if we weren’t friends and it messed me up inside, you know? After the first day of you ignoring me I knew that I liked you, like a lot. I don’t know if you feel the same way, I shouldn’t have made it weird…”

“I do feel the same way,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Let’s not fight like that again. You’re way too important to me.” You pulled his arm gently and the two of you sat down on the couch together. You were quiet for a moment before you looked over at him.

“Does this mean I’m dating a superhero?” you whispered.

“If you’re cool with it, yeah.”

“Once you feel better will take me on a date and show me how the web thing works?” He rested his head on your shoulder and thought for a moment.

“I think I might feel better tomorrow evening, maybe around 7?”

“You know where to find me, Spiderman.”

Conquering a World

So, I had this idea after reading a humans are weird post, it’s going to take a couple parts to finish, but here goes nothing. Ava is actually one of my best friends and we keep talking about being roommates someday. Gigi is based on my dog. Sara is based on hers. Let’s see how poorly I can portray myself and her.

A ship from the Pqncallaxis Dominion arrived on a Tuesday, at four in the morning, in the field behind my house, waking myself, my roommate, and our two dogs, three cats, twelve chickens, plus one angry rooster.
I scrambled out of bed, going for the rifle. My roommate, Ava, had a handgun that she was licensed to use, but sometimes a rifle was a little more convincing for aliens than the small size of the gun she carried. You never really knew with aliens.
“The residents of this domain will exit the domain and consult with us.”
I loaded the rifle, “Consult with them. Tch.”
“Just getting the rifle. What do you think? Should we release the hounds?” I asked Ava, listening for a moment as the dogs kept barking.
“Right, because Gigi’s such a terror.”
“I know. She’ll be in hiding the moment we come down with our guns. Sara though…”
“She’d probably lick them to death.”
“I’m pretty sure dog saliva is deadly to some aliens. I swear, if they crushed my apple trees…”
“Really? You’re worried about trees?”
“I like apples! You do too. They might have destroyed your pear trees, you know.”
She wrinkled her nose, “Or the chickens.”
We went down side by side and peered around the corner so we could see out the back doors through the curtains the dogs had managed to push aside.
“What kind of aliens are those?” I asked in a whisper.
She shrugged, “I’m a secretary, not an alien expert. You’re the one who follows the updates more.”
“Because my brother is excited about it. But I don’t study them like I study plants.” I shook my head, “Maybe we should call someone.”
“Like who?”
“The police?”
“And tell them what? Aliens have landed in our backyard and want to consult with us? We don’t even know what that means.”
The realization that we were both too chicken to go out just yet is what made me decide to do that. Someone had to do something.
“Alright, I’m going to go out. You have to get to the kitchen and grab the sprayer with the mint oil in it. Mint is corrosive to ninety percent of the alien species that have come into contact with earth.” At least…I was mostly sure. Pretty certain. There was a good chance.
“Are you sure?”
“No, but…it’s that or they do something bad. Confidence. I’ll put on an air of confidence.” I hugged her quickly, just in case, “If they kill me, call the police and get into the basement. Then tell my family…well…you know.”
She was looking at me like I was insane, “You’re insane.”
See, thought so.
“Finally, someone uses the right word.” I muttered, then put the butt of the rifle into the crook of my shoulder like my dad had taught me and ordered the dogs, “Get.”
Ava got to the door, “Wait, I’ll go out with you.”
“And if they aren’t here peacefully?”
“Then we’ll die together?”
Neither of us wanted the other to die, but we also didn’t want to die ourselves.
“Why couldn’t they have gone somewhere else?” I muttered, “Open the door.”
She hesitated, then did as I told her.
I stepped out, making sure the dogs couldn’t get past me, “What do you want?”
“To consult with the residents of this domain.”
“Again I ask, what do you want?” I squinted, even though I was wearing my glasses, “And could you kill the lights? They’re a little much for four in the morning.”
All of their lights turned off, so the only light was my porch light.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then reopened them, trying to help my eyes adjust more quickly, “Right? What is this about consulting the residents?”
Ava came out with her hand gun out and the spray bottle in her robe pocket.
The alien, a weird thing that looked like a mix between a praying mantis and a Jaaarskil, stepped just barely into the light, limping as he kept the rooster away with one leg. “We wish to hire the expertise of a select few humans to help us with settling our latest acquisition.”
“No thanks.” Ava said, “Try someone else.”
A green light came from the device the alien was holding, “You are the perfect specimens for us. Return to your residence.” It made a disgusting clicking and chomping sound, like someone chewing with their mouth full and some rocks, then hurried back toward the ship, trying to get away from our rooster.
I arched an eyebrow, “What the frak just happened?”
Ava shook her head, “No clue. Do we go back inside?”
“Well, we definitely have to report it to the alien incidence association. No way are they using me as part of their settlement projects.” I glared at the ship.
The same green light came out of it, bathing out house, our property, and some of the fields around us in it.
Ava pulled me inside, “The basement.”
I nodded and rushed down there, calling the dogs and cats.
It was like an earthquake as we huddled in the spot we normally did for tornadoes.
Then it stopped.
I slowly uncurled, hoping my hands would stop shaking, and pushed myself to my feet. “I’m afraid of what we’ll find up there.”
Ava handed me the rifle again, “Let’s check everything over, then we can go back to bed.”
I nodded and we crept up the stairs. I didn’t want to spend too much time in our basement anyway. I swear it was haunted.
Ava froze when she got to the top of the stairs. “The embassy better throw a fit.”
“What? Why? What did they do?” I climbed up behind her and peeked in the direction she was looking.
Through the glass in the front door we could see the inside of an alien ship.
I turned around and went back downstairs, “I’m going to sleep with the ghosts.”
Even being more superstitious than me, Ava followed and we crashed on the pullout bed couch. Both staring at the ceiling.
“I thought we were past abductions.” I murmured, petting Sara’s head. She was stressed. So was Gigi. And the cats.
Which was evidenced by the fact that they were getting along with the dogs.
“We’ve been abducted.” Ava said, shaking her head. “This feels like a weird dream.”
The house shook again, and we grabbed onto the bed.
“Now what?!” I yelled, suddenly fed up.
I got up the moment the shaking stopped and marched up the stairs, out the front door…
Our front yard of green grass blended into purple grass, then back to green a ways away as it met someone else’s house. I could see where that person’s yard stopped and the flora of this planet started, because the grass ended and the tree trunks of this planet were in various shades of blue, with leaves of various shades of purple as well.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.” I whispered to myself, looking up to where the sun shone. “Yellow sun. Okay. Initial assessment is—if they transported our yard and everything that was in our yard—that the plants and animals should be able to survive. I think. Maybe. The air is breathable, always a plus, so that should be fine. Plants make food from light and they have light. We have chicken feed to last us a while, at least while we let one of the chickens experiment with the bugs.”
“Fay? Why are you whispering?” Ava came out behind me.
“This.” I waved a hand to everything in front of me.
She stared, speechless.
I groaned, “Can I use that swear word now?”
Ava slowly shook her head.
“Why the heck did they choose us?” I let out a yell of frustration. “You know what? Fine. Just, fine! I’m going to see if anybody is home.”
Ava kept up but didn’t say anything.
I rang the doorbell of the other house, then looked back at my house.
Ava nudged me and pointed to the one side.
There was another house just barely visible through the trees.
I pounded on the door, “Hello?!”
Finally it was being unlocked.
“Is it over?” was the guy’s first question.
“The transport to another planet? You could say that.” Ava found her voice again. Knew it wouldn’t stay gone for long.
He looked past us, then shook his head, “These aliens are getting crazier by the month. Don’t they realize the hell that they’re bringing to themselves?”
“Honestly, I don’t think they do. Considering they put us here, I’d say they’re worried about poisonous food or weather or creatures.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, “I’ll have to start studying the plants right away. See if I can figure out some sort of lab to do tests in. Find my gardening gloves and start collecting samples.”
Ava glanced back to our house, “Start with the gazebo.”
I nodded, “In the meantime, we should see how the other people are faring.”
“Other people?” The guy asked.
Ava pointed to the left.
He looked over, then shook his head, “Let me get dressed and grab my gun. Let my family know I’m going with you.”
I glanced down at my elephant pajama pants, “Good idea. Meet in the purple grass between our houses.”
He nodded and closed the door.
Ava and I headed back to our house, going and getting dressed.
I grabbed the Gigi’s leash and hooked her to it, “Come on, hon.”
Sara got excited as well, but she wasn’t as good as Gigi on the leash.
Ava came down, “At least grab the baseball bat your brother insisted we have.”
I nodded and got it from my closet. Going to see the other humans that were in the same predicament wasn’t necessarily dangerous, but we didn’t know what we would stumble upon or how freaked out the other humans were. It was best if we came prepared.
Ava led the way back out, looking a little grumpy. She got that way when she didn’t get enough sleep.
We stopped in the purple grass, and I examined it while Gigi sniffed it.
I frowned, “It’s softer than our grass.” I broke off a piece, and smelled it. “Not bad. Smells like lemon pine-sol.”
“We don’t know if things on this planet are toxic in any way and you’re breaking the grass and smelling it?”
“I’m going to lick it too. Don’t give me that look. Last time you gave me that look was when I ate wintergreen berries on our hike. I knew what they were. I knew what they were then. This is like our grass close as I can tell. Would it have killed the…whatever race of aliens this is to give us some sort of information about this planet?”
“Kidnapping us might get them killed. Wonder if they know that.” Ava was looking at the sky.
“On the bright side, we won’t have to avoid Weird Guy on Sunday.” I touched the blade of purple grass to my tongue. I’d have to wait to see if my tongue started to tingle. Tasted lemony.
“That’s what you’re thinking about?” She looked at me, then cringed, “Did you really just taste the grass?”
“We’re going to have to test everything, eventually we’ll run out of food for the dogs, the chickens, the cats…and our fruit trees and gardens will only do so much.”
“Glad we were planning on expanding the garden,” Ava said, looking back at our house and yard. “Hopefully what corn came with us continues to grow as well.”
“It’ll also depend on what the other people have going in their yards. And how many other people there are. Those stupid aliens have put us in a real mess.”
“You don’t say,” She replied dryly. “Here’s that guy.”
I looked up, “Should probably find out his name.”
“You ask.”
“Hey, you guys look ready for some sort of fight.” He gave a sheepish smile, “That’s what my family is doing. I just grabbed the closest thing that resembled a weapon.”
“Golf club works, my cousin got a nasty concussion and five stitches from a golf club once. By the way, I’m Fay Walker and she’s Ava Ryling.”
“Chad Findlay, I’ll introduce you to my parents and brother later. We should head over to the other houses.” He rested the club on his shoulder, “Let’s go see how deep this river of trouble runs.”

anonymous asked:

Can you update the fox!stiles tag please? (: your recs are the best!

Aww. Thank you! Everyone needs more Fox!Stiles in their life! 

Back to Beacon Hills by surrenderdammit | 10,496

Stiles is a born werefox, returning to Beacon Hills with the hopes of starting over and finding some sort of home again. Maybe he can finally stay in one place long enough for his scent to catch.

I’ve Got A Sure Thing by skoosiepants | 11,239

Stiles’s water breaks ten miles outside of Beacon Hills.

Dirty paws and furry coats by queerly_it_is | 57,621

Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.

[AU based on Disney’s The Fox and the Hound]

This is Home by raisesomehale | 4,543

Other than being a werefox with a werekit for a son, Stiles’ life is relatively normal. He’s a single parent, owns a modest sized home, and has a variety of kid-friendly meal recipes tucked neatly under his belt. It might be just him and Nate, but they have it in the bag. Nothing is missing from their lives.

That is, until Nate befriends a girl named Sadie Hale on his first day of kindergarten. Then everything changes.

the amber of the moment by redhoodedwolf | 23,202

Ever since he was eight years old, Stiles had been running. Fate decided it was time to stop.

A Little Fur Goes A Long Way by janonny | 2,621

Stiles faces Derek’s Very Bad Day head on.

until we become something new by Spikedluv | 73,529

When Stiles is bitten by a werefox, his problems have only just begun. An old enemy returns, and new ones appear. It’s Beacon Hills, after all.

A (Sort of) Fairytale by briecheesie, daunt | 25,800

The summer after senior year starts normally enough, with the gang spending their final months before college together at the Martin family’s lake house. Then Jackson stumbles onto the burial ground of a witch’s ex-husband, Stiles is magically turned into a fox, and things somehow manage to get worse from there. The gratuitous Princess Bride references are only of moderate help.

A Simple Life by Survivah | 13,763

Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton’s magic powder, and his plans change.

Heartbeat, It’s A Lovebeat by eric_idle_rules| 11,716

A very young fox!Stiles ends up lost in the woods of Beacon Hills where he’s watched by a slightly older Derek. Twelve years later, Stiles ends up back in those same woods for a completely different reason… but he still manages to find Derek.

Whiskers and Paw prints by LucifersHitman | 4,819

Derek finds Stiles as a fox, brings him home to the Hale family and they take him in after finding out that his family were killed by hunters, slowly the pair fall for eachother and when Stiles hits 16 hes had enough of Derek running away and takes matters into his own hands with a little help of the family too finally get his mate ~

Evenly Matched by alocalband | 3,144

Stiles gets turned into a fox. Somehow this impacts Derek’s life just as much as his own.

Finding Miracles by Survivah | 16,581

Stiles was planning on just being a fox for his entire life. Then, well, magic, true love, blah blah blah, things got complicated. But as it turns out, he still has a lot to learn about this new world he’s living in. Humanity, man. It’s weird.

Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds. by LucifersHitman | 21,096

Stiles always knew finding a mate would be hard for him. He’s not bright and beautiful like Lydia, or stong like Danny or adorable like Scott.

He was just Stiles, ADHD riddled fox kid who loved to draw.

Derek Hale was everything, popular, strong, smart and gorgeous.

They get put together on an English assignment and it doesn’t go at all like Stiles expects.

The Fox and The Wolf by YourLovelyAlpha | 12,065

Derek finds an ordinary fox, that is until the gold tendrils begin to leak out of its leg wound.

Here’s what life was like for a Stage Manager before email and cellphones

- If you were lucky, you were part of a SM team so there was more than one person doing the work.

- No one had cellphones or laptops and there was no internet.

- There was a small SM office with a desktop computer, probably Apple, a landline phone, a slow ink printer with paper on serrated rolls (or the theatre upgraded to printers that would pull paper one sheet at a time), and mail cubbies. Some offices had copiers, but because of their size they were likely put in a hallway for office-wide use.

- The SM would type up the rehearsal report on the slow-as-molasses computer. If your SM was a slow or terrible typist, woe to you my friend.

- After the SM typed up the report they probably had someone go behind them and check everything, because spellcheck was not a thing.

- After edits, the report was sent to the printer and copies were made. Depending on how “fast” the printer and copier were and how many people got the rehearsal report, this could take anywhere from 5-20 minutes. If a mistake was found after the report was printed, you got to repeat the process again.

- The printed reports were then placed in the mail cubbies. If you were lucky, most of the production team was onsite or offsite team members were given a cubby of their own. You crossed your fingers that everyone was responsible enough to stop by their mail cubby early in the day for the report. If you had a particularly diverse team, sometimes you were asked to drop off the report at their hotel. Yes, you had to drive - sometimes out of your way - to make sure someone got a hard copy of their report first thing in the morning.

- Next would be the calls and rehearsal schedule for the next day. This also went to production as well as placed in key locations throughout the building. More typing, printing, and distributing hard copies.

- The company had a dedicated phone extension or phone number for the rehearsal hotline. Yes, a hotline. After the calls and rehearsal schedule were typed, printed, copied, and distributed, you had to record an outgoing message in the hotline, slowly read the schedule, and be sure to include the production name (because sometimes there was more than one production rehearsing and extra phone lines were $$$), the next rehearsal date, who is called, what time they are called, and all additional information including fittings, etc. You would have to triple check for accuracy, because if you got it wrong and didn’t realize it, you had to hope when you called the actor that they were either near the phone or had an answering machine they checked before they left for the theater, or re-record and hope no one heard the first recording, or just go ahead and call everyone one-by-one.

- It was the actor’s responsibility to call the hotline for their calls; woe to you again if an actor fell asleep before checking in for their call, which happened BTW because sometimes the whole process would take until midnight or later depending on the rehearsal schedule and how much waiting around for the schedule was required. Sometimes you’d get those delightful actors that would get pissed when the hotline wasn’t updated as soon as they got home, so they would complain that “it takes too long to check the hotline and I need my sleep!” Always a treat to hear that the next day.

- Sometimes as soon as the actor heard their call they would hang up without listening to the rest of the message, like what time their fittings were. These were usually the actors who wouldn’t read the day’s schedule either, so you’d have to corral them or hunt them down inside the building. Remember, no cellphones.

- Email was a gift from sweet six pound baby jebus, but even the idea of communicating via email address took a while to catch on because not everyone could afford their own computer and/or the internet. Not only were personal computers expensive (you could get around this if there was a public library near you with computers or an internet cafe - yes, this was a thing), you had to pay a ridiculous amount of money for dial-up and internet usage. Ask someone older about AOL discs and watch them cringe.

In short, when someone acts as if I should spoon feed them their schedule via text or individual phone calls because “I don’t check my email,” I remember my early career technology struggles and firmly say, “No.”


anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm so sorry for asking such a basic thing, but... could I ask how you make gifs? The whole process, starting from downloading the episode, torrenting or whatever, etc... I can't even do that much so no matter how many tutorials I read or watch, I can't even open it in Photoshop or download it correctly. >.< Thank you!

Hiya!! No no don’t be sorry!! It took me a while to figure it out too when I first got started so I’m happy to help you! I will mention that I have a pc, not a mac, so I can only show you what I have. Also I’m super sorry for this late reply!

Tutorial: How To Make A Gif (Extremely Detailed Version)

Difficulty: Easy
Time Allocation: ~1 hour
No Prior Understanding Required

What You Will Need:

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Here Comes Your Man

Prompt: @imamotherfuckingstar-lord‘s song challenge - my song was ‘Here Comes Your Man’ by the Pixies. My character was Jim Kirk. I had SO much fun writing this. And listening to the Pixies.
Word Count: 2111
Author’s Note: Oh Jim. You do make a girl’s heart go pitty-pat. I used the song lyrics as the section dividers - I think it kind of works thematically. You’ll have to believe me that I let the song lead the fic ;)

Outside there’s a box car waiting, Outside the family stew

The wind rushed through your ears as you flew down the highway on the old PX70, headed away toward the shipyard. You were determined to make the shuttle leaving for the academy, hell or high water. You smoothed down your hair as you dismounted from the bike, and stowed your keys in your pocket. The security guy at the perimeter raised an eyebrow at you.

“Last person came gunning in here like that left me his keys,” he winked. You rolled your eyes.

“That’s an antique. Probably worth more than the shuttle. I’m not giving it to you. My dad’ll be by to pick it up this afternoon,” you shot back, skipping a stair as you bounded onto the shuttle. Once you were buckled in, you closed your eyes and relaxed.

Out by the fire breathing, Outside we wait ‘til face turns blue

Jim Kirk. You remembered him, vaguely, from high school. He was that misunderstood genius delinquent that all the girls loved to get caught under the bleachers with. You’d fancied yourself interested at one point, but you’d never once caught his eye, and finally gave up, moving on to non-genius delinquents who were probably not as fun, but easily as much trouble. And really, two genius delinquents in one relationship was probably one too many anyhow.

After high school, you’d headed to university for engineering, and discovered your aptitude for mechanics. It had led to your hire at a shop that restored and updated old cars and motorcycles. When Christopher Pike had brought in an old motorcycle for a retrofit, he’d seen the way you worked and started the recruitment speech. He even went as far as to look you up, and throw your aptitude scoring back at you.

Which was how you wound up sitting behind Jim Kirk in a lecture of xenoanthropology in a command track class. All those repressed feelings from high school bubbled to the surface when you saw the line of his jaw, flexed with concentration. When the prof called on you to answer a complicated question about the Prime Directive, he turned and you saw a flash of recognition in those blue eyes. You smirked, somewhat lopsidedly, and winked at him before he turned back to his seat. You weren’t sure, but you thought his ears might be a bit redder.

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