asked and answered

anonymous asked:

"No travel problems" lmao my brain automatically supplied an image of Tyler Breeze desperately trying to help those two fashion disasters backstage before they came out

I’m sorry, did you see what my boy was wearing last night??? Tyler got rejected hard by Deano’s brothers the other week and he decided ‘fuck them, I ain’t helping with that mess’ and got his revenge. I mean, what was that cut on Dean’s shirt??? I know the boy got buff af in the shoulders and chest area and still has that itty bitty waist but surely there was a better option!! It’s like 20 year old Mox all over again!

Originally posted by temomi

Originally posted by machomanwrestlinghistory

I mean??????

Tell me he isn’t just the mean bald version of young Mox

stark-park  asked:

I dunno if this is the type of prompt you're looking for, but could you perhaps do a little one shot of a conversation Snowing might've had about naming their son please? Like, them squabbling over names they like, dislike, know someone who had that name who *insert action here*, suggestions from the rest of the family, etc. This would be when they've had the baby so there's no speculation of girls' names. Please and thank you.

I am going to ask that if anyone dislikes Neal Cassidy/Baelfire to not read or leave any negative comments about him or the name Snowing chose. I’m not exactly a fan of them naming their baby after a man they barely knew (even though I loved Nealfire), but this is canon.

Takes place shortly after David brought the baby to the hospital.

Also on AO3

Snow looked down at the baby in her arms, letting out a content sigh. Her son was back in her arms. She could hold him properly and not worry about a wicked witch stealing him from her. Here he was, her sweet, perfect little boy. All this time she had been convinced that he was a girl, but David had been right this time around. She leaned down and kissed the center of his forehead.

“I bought so many bows,” she whispered. “Sorry about that.”

David chuckled from his spot in the doorway. Regina had taken Henry and Emma to get something to eat, Hook went to the docks, they were finally alone. “This is why most of what I bought was neutral.”

Snow rolled her eyes. “Shush, you were convinced it was a boy.”

“True.” He walked closer to her. “We could’ve found out, you know. There are ways in this realm.”

Snow shook her head. “The surprise was much more fun. Though, knowing ahead of time with Emma meant I had a name.”

“I always meant to ask how you chose that.”

“It means universal, whole. That was how I felt when I realized that George’s curse on me was broken, like I would finally be whole someday. I finally had you and then we were going to have a baby.”

David nodded, carding his fingers through her pixie cut. “It really does fit her.”

“That’s why I think we need something just as powerful for this little one.”

“Does this mean you’ve given up on Leopold?”

“That went out the window as soon as I learned what he and my mother were really like.”

David bit his lip, trying to fight off a frown. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not easy, finding out that our parents weren’t what we thought.”

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not…especially not how they treated Cora and Regina, but I’m finding a way to move on.” She let out a deep breath. “We could always name him after your dad.”

“Robert? No. He was a weak man, I don’t want that put on our son.”

He moved his fingers to stroke his son’s cheek. He was completely bald, but had the brightest blue eyes. Most babies had blue eyes, but he secretly hoped that these would stick. Maybe he’d be the opposite of Emma, with Snow’s hair and his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see who he’d turn out like, what his personality would be.

“What about Joshua?” He suggested.

Snow instantly shook her head. “I knew an arrogant knight with that name. Silas?”

“Sounds like another name he’d get made fun of over.”

She rolled her eyes. “Walter?”

“Do you actually like our child?”

“Hey, Walt Disney is a pretty amazing guy.”

“He screwed up our story.”

Snow cuddled her son closer. “ Right. Not naming our son after him.”

David laughed, perching himself on the bed. “Emma suggested Beckham.”

“I don’t like that. Henry gave me a list of literary ones.”

Snow pointed to the piece of paper on the bedside table and David scanned it. He found a few that would be potential middle names, but none really stood out to him as the first name for his little boy.

“You know, Emma’s middle name is Ruth, after my mother. Maybe we could name him after someone too.”

“Ruth was the reason why Emma could exist in the first place, this little guy too. It’d have to be another hero, someone that without them, we all wouldn’t be there.”

They were quiet for a few moments, the only sounds coming from the baby. Snow realized it was time for him to eat and adjusted him so he could feed. He had been gone for an hour and she worried it would mess with his schedule, but man he could eat. She wasn’t sure that she’d need the lactation consultant that Whale had recommended.

“Neal,” David whispered.

Snow tilted her head. “Huh?”

“A hero, the person that without him we wouldn’t be here. It’s Neal. He sent a message so Hook would go to New York and get Emma. He gave his life so Rumple could tell us who the Wicked Witch was.”

Snow slowly nodded, looking down at her son. He did kind of look like a Neal. “He is Emma’s ex, though.”

“An ex she loved. I know he hurt her, but in the end, he turned out to be a pretty amazing guy.”

“His real name was Baelfire. Neal was a name he made up when he came to this world.”

“And, in my opinion, for a pretty good reason. I like Baelfire, but it doesn’t seem like a name that really fits in this world.”

“Neal,” Snow whispered. “Neal David?” David smiled a bit and then nodded. He had never saw a child being named after himself, but it did have a nice ring to it. “I like it.”


She nodded. “I think we have our name.”

“Should we tell Emma? Or Rumple?”

Snow pondered that for a moment. She had come up with Emma’s name shortly after finding out that she would one day have a daughter. She had kept it to herself for over a year. This time, David knew and she’d have someone to confide in.

“Nah, let’s wait. We’re having the naming ceremony at Granny’s soon, just like we would back in the Enchanted Forest. It can be our little secret for now.”

“Whatever you want.” He pecked her lips and then gently took his son back into his arms. “Hello there, Neal,” he whispered. “Welcome to the world.”

lifethe-universe-andeverything  asked:

Thank you so much for your nice comment on my post! You always take the time to say the sweetest things and it always makes my day. You are truly one of the kindest people I've met on tumblr! 💕

Thank you so much for your sweet message @lifethe-universe-andeverything - it made me smile! It was great to see your post with the lovely YOU. Thanks for helping to make my Tumblr experience a happy one. I always enjoy visiting your blog. It is a peaceful place filled with interesting and pretty things including your own amazing artwork (those Easter Eggs - wow!!) 😘💜

anonymous asked:

Barry: “i feel like we need to have a better line in the ‘gays who can drive’ community between ‘gays who THINK they can drive’ and ‘gays who can actually drive’ because my gay boss can actually drive and he gets this sexy intense look when shifting gears but my twink brother in law is driving me rn and im terrified for my life he’s just singing along to panic at the disco with both his hands out the window and his eyes shut”


cloakedtandy  asked:

but imagine Bellamy sitting down with Murphy for some guy talk (RIP his guy talks with Monty) and then telling him that Clarke radioed him every single day and Murphy saying "oh she drew pictures of you, bro. She had it bad."


After all this time if our fucking cockroach-who-found-love that is the one who drop some news like that on Bellamy and give him the “go get her” speech I’d die. 

itsjanelindsey  asked:

could you write about post-rotj leia struggling to come to terms with being her father(s)'s daughter?

[in the style of “Shifting the Sun” by Diana Der-Hovanessian]

When your father dies, say the Coruscanti, you are left clutching a star map for a different galaxy.


Leia never had a body. Even Luke had that, a black hunk of plastiform in the shape of a man, and she’d watched him—hidden behind  the treeline as acrid smoke curled around her brother and up to the sky. He’d burned the creature who claimed to be their father, and Leia watched him in silhouette, knowing without ever once seeing his face that he was howling, all agony, and alone.

The flames had burned down to flickers, and she was still watching Luke. Even when he went to his knees and pressed his face, hands, into the dirt and screamed, like an animal, like something was being amputated.

(Later, Leia will think: yes, it was like that, exactly like that.)

She’d crept back into Han’s bed in the grey-cold hours of the morning, tucked herself in the warm curve of his body. He’d let out a string of sleep noises and shifted to wrap an arm around her, his hand spanning the soft rise and fall of her stomach. Leia had been dizzy and overwhelmed with the sudden warmth of him, and she found herself tucking her face into the crook of his arm, crying. 

If Han noticed his sleeve was wet in the morning, he had the unlikely grace not to mention it.

She hadn’t had a body to bury, that was the thing. She hadn’t had any bodies to bury, or burn, even a stone to carve their names into. The Falcon had flown through Alderaanian space  afterward, on a mission for the Alliance; she’d been grateful for the blue-white blur of hyperspace, hiding the enormous absence of her planet. Like an abscess in the world.

It occurs to her later—much later, after Endor, after the New Republic, holed up in some rusting base repurposed for the Resistance—that she lost her father and met her father in the same breath. Exit Bail, enter Vader. Leia wasn’t consulted on the transition, but she never has been. She’s someone tragic things happen to, not someone who decides if they’re happening.

(She inherited this from her mother, more’s the pity.)

“I used to dye my hair,” Leia Organa says to Poe Dameron once, and it’s unfortunate, that she’s drunk and he isn’t, but she also ordered men into battle—to fight and die under her command, and he didn’t, so maybe that justifies it. Leia Organa hasn’t killed many sentients, but she’s commanded enough of them to die between the first war and the second, she’s not certain of the dividing line.

So. She says, “I used to dye my hair. Black. Like my father’s. I wanted to be…everything he was, I wanted to be him.”

She told Luke this, once—not when she was drunk but when they’d been shoved together in a bolt-hole at a cantina, waiting the owner to deal with the troopers. Everything had to be whispered, their mouths close to one another’s ears, and Leia had been very aware of the complicated, shivering and ineffable thing between them, whatever it was. So she said—and Luke had smiled (it was too dark to see, but she knew) and leaned in close, said, You’d look good with black hair. And maybe it was the proximity of him, the inexplicably familiar shivering-feeling—

Do you think he’d be proud of me? she’d whispered, and though she never told Luke—or Han for that matter—she never recovers from the stab of love she felt when Luke said, Well, the rest of us are.

(She doesn’t know what color Anakin Skywalker’s hair was.)

“Ma’am,” Poe says in the present, touching her shoulder with a kind of rare gentleness. “Get some sleep.”

Leia sleeps, and does not dream.


Keep reading

elentiya02  asked:

reader wants to do the spiderman kiss with tom but is super shy & flustered when asking

i think this is such a cute idea! sorry my answer is so long lmao -

- so you’d always been kind of fascinated with the upside-down kiss ever since you watched the first spider-man movie when you were little

- but you never thought you’d ever get the chance to do it, and it seemed kind of impractical anyways

- but then, you find yourself dating tom holland of all people, spider-man himself

- and you sort of remember hearing something about him trying it once before with an ex girlfriend

- and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he would kiss you like that

- because you really, really wanted him to

- more under the cut -

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

lilo and stitch AU where it's magnus merle and taako instead of jumba and pleakley. not quite 1-to-1, but still, it's just their sort of incompetent chaos

i do love this but i still want taako to be stitch and i thiink magnus and merle desperately trying to capture taako and taako fucking with them is very in character. 


taako: i’m…. a dog. i’m your dog.

angus: uh. what?

taako: bark bark. 

taako getting run over by an 18 wheeler

anon i got real fucked up by this ask until i realised what au it’s for

omgkatsudonplease  asked:

dog show au where yuuri registered his purebred toy poodle "viktor nikiforov" and ends up competing at the same show as the actual viktor

prompt after my own heart

(Dommi Disclaimer: if you can “adopt, do not shop” for your dogs. Breed specific rescues exist if your heart is set on a purebred animal, and they can help you too!

If you have specific needs in a pet such as for a service animal which usually requires having the dog from puppyhood, please go to your chosen breed’s club website and find a reputable breeder. If the breeder you choose will not let you tour the facilities or only lets you meet certain dogs, has puppies basically on demand, and is not your national breed club approved…it is likely a mill. Reputable breeders will have waiting lists, sometimes as long as a year, for their puppies and you will be required to be vetted first as well as pay a deposit. 

Please support rescues or shelters first and foremost, but if you must buy a breeder puppy, do so responsibly!)

Mari’s never let him hear the end of this since age 18, and now Yuuri is paying dearly for it.

Vicchan is a lovely, flawless specimen of the toy poodle breed. His bite is strong and well-aligned, his coat is the perfect texture and sheen, his eyes are clear, his temperament calm and obedient. Against all odds, his family finally made it to Westminster with Vicchan. 

Yuuri wears a suit with a patterned blue tie and tries not to upchuck all over the Garden.

See, the thing is…Vicchan’s registered name is “Katsuki’s Victor Nikiforov.” As in the world famous owner of multi-time champion Makkachin, who is loved beyond compare in the world of kennel clubs and green carpets.

A man…currently judging Vicchan while he stands perfectly still on a raised platform. Victor the Human Yuuri has never ever fantasized about make outs with checks Vicchan’s teeth. “He’s beautiful,” he says after a moment.

“We think so,” Mari says. Her visible piercings and bleached hair make her a bit of a stand out among all the hairspray and pearls. She gives zero fucks as always.

A taller judge with blond hair and round glasses inspects Vicchan’s haunches. “He’s very well-bred, yeah. I can’t see a single flaw.”

Yuuri nods politely. Mari smiles.

“Vicchan,” Victor the Human says. “Almost like – “ He checks the official registration info which features Vicchan’s full name. “Oh.”

Yuuri winces, then chooses an escape route. “Mari chose it! It was solely her! I had nothing to do with it! Who even is this dog?”

Vicchan gives Yuuri an odd face, and he will apologize for a week in recompense. However, Mari turns in slow motion with eyes full of rage and murder aimed at Yuuri. “What.”

Human Victor’s smile is a bit disappointed. He leans close to Yuuri, dropping his voice low. “I was hoping you are my fan,” he whispers as he touches Yuuri’s lower back. 

Yuuri spontaneously combusts. 

Victor and the other judges move to a sour looking guy’s Husky as they’re onto the working dogs next. Yuuri has a sudden need for a velvet divan, smelling salts, and a fan made of crimson-dyed ostrich feathers.

What he gets instead is a slap upside the head from his older sister punctuated with indignant, shrill Japanese curse words.

Vicchan does not win Best in Show but he does win Best in Group, and it’s better than they could have hoped.

February in New York carries winds that bite against Yuuri’s cheeks, and when Mari suggests Le Bernadin to celebrate, Yuuri agrees because he’s starving and they can justify the fancier than usual fare thanks to their win. Vicchan winning means more notoriety for their kennel, and that means more money which will be good for their legacy.

As Yuuri puts on a mask and wraps a scarf around his neck, a tap on the shoulder alerts him to Human Victor. He’s in thick camel wool and leather gloves. “Yuuri, I was hoping…your Vicchan is lovely,” he finishes kind of…well, lamely to be honest.

Yuuri stares in confused crush since high school.

“You’re lovely,” Victor blurts next, then turns red, then coughs.

“You’re doing great, honey,” calls the bespectacled blond judge from before. Is he sarcastic? No one knows for sure.

Mari, snorting as she gets out a cigarette, seems to think sarcasm. “You kids have fun,” she deadpans. “I’ll see what Mom’s college friend is up to. She lives on the UWS.”

Yuuri barely registers her leaving. Victor is a bit blushy still, but Yuuri is fairly confident he’s no better. “Do you like caviar, Yuuri?”

“Ah…yes,” Yuuri manages. “Do you?” He winces. Victor asked him. He’s a dingus.

“You’re also doing great, honey,” blond judge adds with a slow clap.

Yuuri’s sigh is both loud and baleful.

“Caviar Russe?” Victor tries. He gestures at the blond judge, who pretends to read the Wall Street Journal instead. 

“Sure,” Yuuri replies. 

After taking a cab to their destination, Victor opens doors, holds out chairs, orders with Yuuri’s approval, and they exchange numbers before he brings Yuuri back to his Air BNB. 

He may linger as he kisses Yuuri’s cheek goodnight, and Yuuri may let him.

anonymous asked:

can you give a little meta dive into bellamy's head, do you think he was aware of his feelings for clarke when she "died"? Is that why he was able to get closure and move on and fall in love again? is it "again", does he even consider the feelings he had/has for clarke love or was it just admiration/appreciation because she was the only person to care about/support him? now echo supports and loves him and six years is a long time-- memories blur and become easy to misinterpret.

Man I love this ask.

I do think Bellamy knew he had more than platonic feelings for Clarke by season 4, hence the 401 reaction shot to a clarke telling Abby she loved Lexa, and the moment in 406 where I think Bellamy had worked up enough courage to tell her if not explicitly than in a round about way. It’s also why Clarkes head and heart speech to him in 413 was so hard for him to hear- the thought of Clarke dying was too painful to even let himself consider. So yeah, I think when he got to GoSci… things were not pretty to say the least. I think it probably hit him in waves, what the loss of Clarke meant, and as @mego42 pointed out in some fabulous meta yesterday, the rest of spacekru were probably privy to that grief and anguish.

I think to get over Clarke, to accept her death, Bellamy absolutely had to come to terms with what his feelings were. I think he probably has to face the fact that he was in love with her to the point that he would have done anything to keep her alive (had done so on multiple occasions,) and that in the end, he had to accept that despite those feelings and that drive, he couldn’t. I think he mulled over Clarke’s advice to use his head a lot in that time and had to also realize that for Monty to have survived, for all of them to have made it to the Ring, Clarke had to have died, and that she had accepted that and given her life for them in the most Clarke-like fashion. I think he had to realize that for once, he couldn’t shoulder the blame for that. I don’t think that realization was easy, but I think he was eventually able to accept that to honor her and love her after she was gone, he had to respect that fact that she made that choice and the best thing he could do was to be grateful and keep her memory alive, but also to keep living his life. I think Bellamy knew and knows that underneath Wanheda and tenacity, Clarke Griffin was made of love, and if Bellamy had the opportunity, Clarke would want him to be able to still love after she was gone.

So he does. He worked through his grief, he worked to forgive Echo, and he worked to forgive himself. And that wasn’t easy, it took a long time, but he managed to do it and something else grew between them as well. And I think Bellamy was able to recognize what he was feeling for Echo as respect/like/attraction because of how he felt about Clarke. And I think he acted on it because of Clarke too.

I think you point out something lovely and very sad about time blending and fading memories and I think that’s true. I think as Bellamy and Echo deepened their relationship, some of those feelings about Clarke began to ease and fade. Not disappear, never, but I think Echos gentleness and love helped Bellamy gently put those feelings for Clarke aside. She was dead, and carrying a torch for her when he was falling in love with someone else wasn’t healthy (like really, no one wants that.) What Bellamy and Echo had that bellarke never had was peace and time- and with both of those factors they were able to have a physical and emotionally deep and vulnerable relationship that maybe felt reminiscent of what Bellamy had felt with Clarke but was also entirely new.

And I think you’re right about the blurring and misinterpreting- Bellamy might have started to question if it was love that he felt for Clarke or just deep gratitude and respect, and I think that’s where Bellamy is when he gets back to Earth. Clarke is suddenly real and there and very much alive, and Bellamy is struck by this rush of things he buried- grief, heart sickness, love, respect, admiration, disbelief. I think it’s really jarring for him, because he’s having these past feelings and even identity he thought were gone run headlong into the very present feelings and identity that are current for him.

Which is why I think Bellamy does seem at once so distant with Clarke and so able to fall back into a partnership with her. They both know the motions of what they do together, it’s second nature for them, but it’s out of context with who they are now, and that’s what we see in 506. Bellamy isn’t wanting to poke what’s under the surface with Clarke, because in his mind he’s dealt with it. Her presence shouldn’t effect what he has with Echo, and so far he hasn’t let it. But this center cannot hold between them- both Bellamy and Clarke are too different and had too many feelings for each other that they never truly got closure on for them to continue to work without talking about things.

Many, many people have talked about both Bellamy and Clarkes composure cracking in 506, and I think we’re going to see what they’ve all predicted- that those frustrations with their circumstances are going to force them to break, and break at each other. Like seriously, just get and emotional Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin in the same room together and I think a lot of the buried and not so buried grief, and even the grief that was supposedly processed, is going to come back up. I mean, to believe and know someone died only to find out they’re alive means that sense of closure suddenly no longer is closure. They have to face, eventually, what they’ve done and what they mean to each other.

iamthehelperdog  asked:

Fact 1: fandom as a whole wants more kravitz, but Griffin and Justin don't wanna play a couple more than they have to. Fact 2: fandom interprets kravitz as essentially undead Lin Manuel Miranda. Solution? Live show guest star Lin as player character kravitz

somehow i feel that justin would be more horrified pretend flirting with LMM than he would pretend flirting with griffin 

cosmictuesdays  asked:

My brother, modestmondays, has pointed out Greg is the first person in Rose-slash-Pink's ENTIRE LIFE to demand to be treated as an equal. Not her superior like her sisters, not someone following her like Pearl and Garnet. He asked she treat him as someone equal to her, and she'd never had that before.

yes! and she has wanted that this entire time but feelings are hard and Gems are SO BAD at them, so bad, oh god, Gems handle their feelings like a 98-pound college freshman holds her liquor.

iamthehelperdog  asked:

I think the best thing about Kravitz is that he's perfectly set up to be Captain Cool Guy™ but nothing could be further from the truth. Oh sorry, were you expecting this strikingly handsome, musically gifted, immortal specter of death to be /suave/??? Nah sorry, nothing but Grade A, Prime Rib DORKUS over here

i really want like…. a fic or something where krav is playing a party and he looks really professional and sexy doing it and taako’s like i gotta get in there

so he goes up to kravitz while he’s taking a break like ‘hey handsome ;)’ and kravitz chokes on his water a little bit and after a brief coughing fit he’s like hello? and he has tears in his eyes, and taako is,,,, taken aback. not like, completely put off. just surprised. 

kravitz only looks hot when he doesn’t speak or do anything at all otherwise he’s just a massive dork 

anonymous asked:

I feel really messed up about things. I was 5000% sure I'd be a Slytherin when I was a kid, I have piles and piles of Slytherin merchandise, but now that I'm grown, my ambition is gone. I've quite solidly become a Hufflepuff in disposition and in life goals. I feel like a part of my identity has been wrenched away and idk what to do. (Harry Potter got me through a Very Bad Time™ so this is actually important to me and not just silly fandom nonsense. I love the Dogfather and really respect 1/2

(cont’d) your writing, so I believe that you can come up with some explanation that’ll help me feel better again. Sorry for being weird at you.) 2/2

Well, speaking as a Hufflepuff myself, first of all: welcome! We’re happy to have you.

That said, I think If I were in your position (or in the position of any person who feels like they’ve undergone a big change in identity) there are a couple of things I’d want to ask, to start with. 

First of all, what aspects of seeing yourself as a Slytherin made you happy? What were the parts of yourself, besides ambition, that made you cleave to that identity? 

Do any of those aspects still apply now that you see yourself as a Hufflepuff? Are there new aspects of your identity that fit better? What are they?

When you stop fitting into your old way of seeing yourself, it’s jarring. It’s gonna take a while to figure out what your new way of seeing yourself even is, let alone how you fit into it. But it’s better to do it than to stay wedged inside an old identity that no longer fits. Snakes shed their skins, and they’re a little bit more vulnerable for a while afterwards, and in this metaphor they might not even be snakes anymore. But keeping the old ill-fitting skin isn’t a good solution.

Anyway, most of the HP Sorting Discourse I’ve seen in fandom is in agreement that these are much more flexible categories, even in canon, than they first appear to be. There’s overlap. There’s choice. And for myself, I think they’re most useful as categories for defining what you value, not what you are or what you excel at.

I think I’ve said before that I see the fundamental metric of sorting as being: what do you value most, out of bravery, curiosity, ambition or kindness? Those are all good things to value! Deciding that you value kindness more than ambition means you have to rethink your priorities, yes. But once you’ve taken some time to mourn your old identity, you can take some more time to find out what you like about the new one.

alwxadria345  asked:

Hiiii I saw (and loved) your headcannon about Vox Machina having dæmons but have you thought a little about the dæmons of Might Nein?? I haven't seen all that many but one's I have seen are cool, including the idea I've seen of Frumpkin being Caleb's daæmon (ofc thats an idea) or my personal sad!caleb headcannon is that Frumpkin is his familiar ofc that he made in the asylum because his actually dæmon was #severed. What do you think??

Hey there! I actually have done some thinking about the M9 and their daemons over the past few weeks; here’s what I’ve got:

Beau: feral cat (Felis catus), Einar. Their parents were hoping for something regal and proud, but she’s just as much an asshole as Beau is, and just as messy, and just as brutally graceful when she cares to be. A fighter through and through. [Beau with an alley cat just feels right.]

Caleb: maned wolf (Chrysocyon brachyurus), Käthe. A mangy, wild-eyed thing; Caleb hides it well but she carries their misdeeds and horrors in silence, mistakes stained on their soul. [info here]

Fjord: Leonberger (Canis familiaris), Lettie. He calls her Lettie, anyhow; that may well be as much an invention as Fjord is. She’s equally easygoing, solid, and does seem to enjoy a good swim when she can manage it. The yellow eyes are a little weird, but Fjord is so friendly that it can’t mean that much right. Right? [The Leonberger is a water dog native to Germany, supposed bred to mimic a lion symbolically. They’re known to be intelligent, surprisingly agile, self-assured and disciplined, and easily adaptable. I don’t know what’s going on in Fjord’s backstory, but that seems pretty well fit for him, his easygoing nature and his secrets.]

Jester: European roller (Coracias garrulus), Phoebus. As bright as she is, and nearly as talkative. Neither of them had much else to do (or many else to talk to) growing up so they chatter constantly. It’s mostly endearing. [A bright, talkative bird from Eastern Europe and a little further east of that; plus it’s got garrulous in its scientific name, which just seems perfect for talkative Jester. Might have something of the Feywild about him.]

Molly: dyeing dart frog (Dendrobates tinctorius), Rilli. Brilliantly colored, equally confused and equally rolling with it. He’s very committed to be Rilli, not whoever came before. [info here]

Nott: African painted dog (Lycaon pictus), V.B. Well, not actually, but no one can quite pronounce the goblinish, so they call him V.B. Nott says it stands for Very Brave; Molly likes to make up names to fit the initials (Vincent Barnabas is his favorite; V.B. doesn’t seem to mind). [info here]

Yasha: Norweigian forest cat (Felis catus), Heidrun. Majestic and never speaks. Always padding about her shadow, keeping watch. [Graceful, Nordic, mythologically-significant, larger than usual, and quiet––it seems a good fit.]

I’m definitely intrigued by the idea of Caleb being daemon-less and Frumpkin being a pseudo-replacement, something he holds onto even though whatever bond was there is faint and fragile and fractured. It’s deliciously upsetting and full of potential for suffering™, but I’m not certain that being severed from one’s daemon is something you can come back from, restoration or no; I’d want to know more of his trajectory before settling (ha) on anything regarding that. (I’m super torn.)

I do think he (and Molly) would be able to stretch the bond longer than is considered wholly normal. He had training to that extent, brutal terrible training in the name of his fatherland; Molly doesn’t know what happened but canonically (or, well, in my headcanon) coming back from the dead tends to stretch one’s bond with the soul a fair bit and he and Rilli are messing with the fallout of that.

anonymous asked:

I've been considering asking my GP for a psychiatric referral because of how spectacularly I'm failing to cope with life "like an adult" and I idly read the adult ADHD post you reblogged... it was like the Kill Bill sirens went off in my brain. What a simultaneously relieving and frightening thought, that my patterns of behaviour may not just be me being a loser.

Welcome to the club! We don’t hold a lot of meetings because it’s really hard to schedule them, and the clubhouse is usually out of snacks, but on the bright side no one’s judgy about it because we have all Been There.

anonymous asked:

I can’t remember the prompt numbers but Scully to Mulder I’m scared/please don’t leave me

A/N: I imagine this taking place at the beginning of ‘One Breath.’ Sorry this took so long, anon. Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder remembered passing out on his leather couch.

The leather had been worn and stiff making a variety of squeaks and smirching sounds as he struggled to get comfortable. He had been wearing the three-day-old undershirt and dress pants that reeked of stale sunflower and the musty closest where he suffocated in white-collar crime and tape transcriptions. At night, he would let his mind wander and unravel in the darkness of his own creation. Some nights, he would let the fatigue of staying awake for days on end sacrifice his body to much-needed sleep and into the realm of nightmares.

Except this time was different.

Mulder’s nightmares usually involved Samantha or one of the countless horrors he witnessed in VCU. Lately, every nightmare he had was of Scully as his subconscious goaded him in his failure to save her. But this time, he found himself sitting in a rowboat and he felt cold. He twisted to look behind him, seeing a slim and frayed rope holding the rowboat to a small dock with its path that disappeared into the woods.

“Mulder?” Her voice was weak and wavered but Mulder knew her voice. “Mulder, is that really you?”

He turned around in the boat and saw his partner sitting across from him. She wore a thick black jacket with a faux fur collar and leather gloves. She blinked as if coming out of a daze and her cloudy blue eyes focused on him. “Scully?” He reached for her gloved hand, feeling the leather between his fingertips. He wretched the leather glove off and felt cold fingertips. “Scully, are you okay?”

“Mulder, why are you here?”

“What do you mean, Scully?” He took off her other glove in a vain attempt to try and warm her up. He held both of her cold eyes within his, blowing into both of her hands. “Are you okay?”

“You aren’t supposed to be here, Mulder.” She watched him as if he was a stranger. “You don’t belong here.”

Mulder was dressed in the dress pants and white tee shirt he had fallen asleep in earlier and barefoot. He was neither cold or hot and could not understand why Scully was dressed as if in the dead of winter. “What are you talking about, Scully? I belong wherever you are. You follow me into the dark and I follow you.”

She licked her lips as if they were parched and looked beyond him. “He wants me to go with him.” He turned to look at a man in white navel dress uniform with a captain’s insignia. He saw pieces of Scully in the navy captain and assumed it was her deceased father. “I don’t want to, Mulder. I am not ready to leave.”

“Then don’t,” he urged. “Don’t!” He pulled out her golden cross he had been wearing. “I haven’t given up, Scully. You shouldn’t either.”

She took the small cross and examined it, pinched in between her thumb and finger. She looked up into Mulder’s hazel eyes and he saw sadness and fear. “I’m scared here,” she confessed.

“Where are you?”

She closed her eyes suddenly as if in pain, pulling back from him.  "I can’t remember.“

“Scully, give me a clue. I can find you,” he pressed.

“I don’t know what happened,” she continued, oblivious to his pleas. She opened her eyes and took his hands. “Mulder, please don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here alone.”

Mulder did not know if this was a dream or real but propriety be damned. He hugged her tightly against him rocking the small rowboat. He watched the ripples echo outwards across the foggy pond. Scully tucked herself into his embrace. “I won’t.” He tilted her head up, kissing her gently. “I won’t leave you, Scully.”

Before she could manage reply there was a phone ringing in the distance and the next time he blinked, Mulder found himself back at his darkened apartment. He reached from the phone mumbling sleepily, “Mulder.”

His mind tried to process the dream he had just had. “Is this the number to an Agent Fox Mulder?”


“Sir, you were listed as an emergency contact on the form of a Dana Scully. Sir, she was found unresponsive and unconscious in our ER earlier this evening…”

Mulder cut off the other person, already grabbing his things, exclaiming, “I’m on my way.”

emotionaltrinityfreak  asked:

okay, i swear i'm not trying to be mean, i'm actually just asking this: should i be ashamed about being thin? like, should i feel bad?

Should I be ashamed for having brown hair? For having curly hair? For having blue eyes? For having birthmarks? For having full lips? For having knees?

No, of course not. My body looks how it looks, and there is nothing wrong with that. Just like there is nothing wrong with someone looking different than me. Someone with blonde straight hair and brown eyes and no birthmarks and thin lips, for example. 

And there might be things I don’t necessarily like about my body- I might feel my hair is a little more oily than it should be, for example- but that doesn’t mean my body is wrong or that I should be ashamed of it. 

Bodies look how they look for a reason. Genetics, hormones, whatever else. Maybe some of it is because of the choices we made. I mean, I wasn’t born with pierced ears. But we look how we do because that’s what we are supposed to look like. And how we look, regardless of any other factor, is beautiful and wonderful and totally okay.

Bodies shouldn’t be things that determine our worth or our value. They shouldn’t be things we are judged for by others. And they most certainly are not things for which we should have to judge ourselves.

You have nothing about which to be ashamed. You are the way you are and there is nothing wrong with that. 

The thing is, sometimes how we look means society treats us a certain way. A way that’s different from how people who look different than us are treated. 

For example, I have white skin. That means society is going to give me certain privileges that someone with darker skin wouldn’t have. It means I have to acknowledge a history of violence against people with dark skin that was caused by people with white skin. It means I as a white person have to constantly monitor my interactions with people of color, I have to monitor my language when talking to or about people of color, I have to monitor how I think about people of color, I have to remember my position in society over people of color, and I have to actively work to make people of color feel safe around me. 

I have to remember that even if skin color is a totally neutral thing, it isn’t treated neutrally, and it won’t be unless people actively fight to end racism, xenophobia, and white supremacy.  Sometimes that means I have to be uncomfortable, I have to acknowledge my part in society and how white supremacy benefits me even if I actively try not to be racist. It means I have to acknowledge I can be racist even when I don’t know I am, and that I have to listen to people who call me out for that. It means I have to educate myself on race and be willing to change as I learn more about racism. 

This isn’t a completely fair comparison, because racism is much more than about appearance and has a long, difficult history full of many tragedies and atrocities. But everything I said I have to do about race are things that all privileged people have to do with people over whom they have privilege.

As an able-bodied person, I have to do all of that with ableism. 

As an American citizen, I have to do all of that with xenophobia. 

As a someone who isn’t Muslim or Jewish, I have to do all that with Islamaphobia and Antisemitism. 

And as someone who is thin, you have to do all that with fatphobia. 

That doesn’t mean you should be ashamed. It just means you have to be mindful. 

You’re perfect as you are, and you don’t have to feel bad for existing the way you do.

You just have to make sure that the way you treat fat people is fair. That you don’t actively contribute to our pain. That you listen to us about what we experience.

Learn how to be an ally to us and you will be fine. 

Don’t feel ashamed. Just be proactive in your allyship. Love yourself, but be respectful to us. It’s not always easy to be an ally, but it’s one of the most important things you can do. 

And be mindful of how the experience of fat people change depending on our other identities. If you are only an ally to really privileged fat people, that’s not really being an ally. 

You’ve got this. I have confidence in you.

- Mod Bella