when we first got married i had to psych myself up every time to say “my wife” to a new person. it was awkward because with “girlfriend” a lot of people would just assume i meant “friend,” and of course “fiancée” is gender-neutral when spoken, so we’d always had plausible deniability. but the meaning of “wife” is pretty unavoidable. still, i made myself do it on principle, and slowly but surely it became natural.

now i love saying “my wife,” to everyone all the time. i love saying it to the old woman distributing the strawberries at the farm share, asking if she knows where i can still get rhubarb because every summer i make my wife a pie. i love saying it to the gay employee helping me at crate and barrel, telling him i’m buying these glasses because my wife and i both had them growing up, and seeing his eyes light up. i love saying it to friends of friends and to new acquaintances and to potential coworkers and to the women at the laundromat. i love being aggressively out, and i love having such an easy way to be aggressively out. i love being the first woman with a wife someone has ever met, making our existence part of their reality. i love being visible for other lgbt people who might feel a little less alone knowing i’m there, which helps me push past the fear when it comes. most of all, i love not hiding. i love saying “my wife” and i love my wife.

I’m reading a book about room decoration and quick question, am I supposed to construct my own rustic ladder leading nowhere or when the time is right will I wander into a Crate and Barrel and the rustic, cannot possibly bear weight ladder will find me?

Dungeon Design: Guiding Player Movement Part II

This time I’m going to go over some factors that guide movement that are less about visual composition and more about content. I am using the same map from Part 1, a map of an icy cavern frost giants are using as a lair. An entrance to a hero’s lost tomb is located within.

Mechanical Design

Keep reading

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: i should have told them i was sick last week, they're gonna think this is the way i sing, why is the pianist playing so loud? should i sing louder? i'll sing louder. maybe i should stop and start over. i'm gonna stop and start over. why is the director staring at his crotch? why is that man staring at my resume? don't stare at my resume i made up half of my resume look at me stop looking at that, look at me, no, not at my shoes don't look at my shoes i hate these fucking shoes why did i pick these shoes? why did i pick this song? why did i pick this career? why does this pianist hate me? if i don't get a callback i can go to crate and barrel with mom and buy a couch. not that i want to spend a day with mom but Jamie needs space to write since i'm obviously such a horrible, annoying distraction to him. what's he gonna be like when we have kids? and once again... why am i working so hard?these are the people who cast Russell Crowe in a musical jesus christ, i suck, i suck, i suck, i suck

naadestiel  asked:

Youre one of my favorite writers so I have a favor to ask. Could you write me a drabble for my birthday? Any kind of httyd will do since I love all your stories! Thank you thousand times!

Happy birthday!!! I hope you have a good one! <3 :)


Hiccup hummed as he strolled down the walk, holding a crate full of mis-matched tools and metalwork. The sky was colored darkly, stars beginning to twinkle as everyone wandered off to she or he’s hut- or both, given the twins.

He paused by Astrid’s hut, noting the flicker of candlelight inside.With a grin he sat the crate on a barrel outside, giving a little knock on the door.

He was only met by silence, so he knocked again, harder this time. There was a squeak along with a crash, wood grating against wood.

“Astrid!?” He called out, concerned.


“Yeah, it’s me.” 

The door creaked open, revealing a bedraggled Hofferson staring at him through squinting eyes. He double blinked in return, not used to such oddities. Astrid was always so prim, neat, and organized. Right now, she looked a complete mess. 

A beautiful mess, but a non-Astrid mess.



Hiccup peered closer, noting her lack of armor. “Were you sleeping?” 


“You look like-”

“Shut up and come in.” She grumbled, turning around without bothering to shut the door. Hiccup ambled inside and finished the deed, turning back to watch her slump into a chair.

“Something wrong?”


Hiccup eyed her critically, “Are you sure..?” 

“Positive. What do you want?” She ruffled her braid absently, staring dry eyed at the table top. She hadn’t blinked once, which made Hiccup question her truthfulness even more.

“I saw the lights were on, and just thought I’d stop to say goodnight…” 

“Goodnight.” She mumbled.

Hiccup stared, before shrugging and stepping forward determinedly. He gentley grabbed her hand in his and slid into a chair beside her. With a tilt of his head he ducked in front of her face, finally causing her to blink.

“What’s wrong?” He prompted with a little squeeze of her hand.

“Mm, I was just thinking is all. I accidentally fell asleep…” She admitted reluctantly. “Note, “unintentionally”.” 

“I did. Not very you.” Hiccup teased. She cracked a small smile in return, but it was clear she was groggy from her interrupted nap.

“Should I leave and let you sleep?” 

“No, I want some company.” She leaned back and scrubbed her eyes with a sigh. She let her hands fall to the table, glancing back to Hiccup. “How about a walk?” 

He smiled and stood in answer, grabbing her hand again to lead her outside. Toothless warbled from the rooftop curiously upon their exiting, eyes wide and carrying an underlining smugness. 

“We’ll be back in a bit, bud.” Hiccup called out reassuringly, waving his hand. “Go on to my hut and get some rest.” 

Hiccup took the lead as the two slowly ambled down the platform. Gradually the walked further until they reached a high cliff where the platform ended and stone steps were carved. Hiccup took this time to switch positions, following Astrid as they trekked up the steep incline.

It wasn’t a long climb, but once they reached the top the both silently agreed on resting on the cliff side, staring out at the now star covered sky and sparkling ocean spread out before them. In the distance, Hiccup spotted wavering Northern lights, reminding him of that first flight no so long ago.

“Been awhile, huh?” He murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

“Yes…” Astrid whispered quietly, almost to herself. “I wish this Viggo-Krogan thing was over… in more ways then one, I miss home.” the last part was breathed, whispered in hope and longing.

“I do too.” Hiccup kissed her cheek. “But if plans go accordingly… we’ll be heading home in less than a year.” 

“A year…” She sighed. “You say it like it’s only weeks away.” 

“It is, approximately 52.” Hiccup replied jokingly, but tightened his hold around her shoulders. “We’ll go back for a visit soon, I promise.” 

“A break… a break would be nice.” She agreed with a straightening of her back. “For a few days, maybe.” 

“We could leave the twins here.” Hiccup added with a laugh.

Astrid grinned, “Unsupervised? We’ll leave Snotlout too, to watch them.” 

“Then… then we’d need to leave Fishlegs to watch Snotlout.” 

“True point. That makes a date.” Astrid teased, jabbing him in the ribs. “You sly dog.” 

He laughed softly, bending down to capture her lips in a quick kiss. “We still have to tell Dad, you know.” 

“I’m amazed he hasn’t figured it out.” 

“I think he has.” Hiccup mused. “He just… I think he’s waiting for me to say something.” 

“Well, that gives our trip a purpose.” Astrid paused to yawn, eyelids fluttering. “When do… when do we leave?” 

“After you’ve slept.” Hiccup chuckled, pulling her close. She rested her head against his and let her eyes slide shut, shuddering a sigh. “Want me to carry you, milady?” 

“You’d kills us both going down those steps.” 

“What? Because of my very rare clumsiness or my prosthetic?” 

“Because of both, they make a deadly combination.” Astrid looked up with twinkling eyes before scrambling to her feet. Suddenly Hiccup found himself dangling from her arms, desperately clinging to her in attempts to keep from falling.

“What the heck, Astrid?” He squeaked.

She began hauling him down the steps easily, grinning widely. “I have both feet and a sense of balance, we’ll be fine.” 

It Could Have Been Anyone

Word Count: 3,574
Warnings: smut

Here you go @phandomsub

Summary: Dan is a porn star asked to be a part of the illustrious Phillip Lester and there ends up being a problem during shooting…

The black town car pulled up to a large mansion on the outskirts of London that looked like every other set Dan had worked on, but he knew from industry gossip as well as watching several of Phillip Lester’s films that the inside would be anything but normal. The man was known for transforming his mansion into over-the-top sets for whatever project he was working on as well as giving hands-on direction to the actors. In normal filmmaking that wouldn’t make Dan nervous but this was the adult film industry and that put him slightly on edge. Dan was newer to the porn industry and the fact that he was asked to perform in one of the Phillip Lester’s movies was not only a shock to him but to his manager PJ as well, but this could make or break Dan’s future in the industry so he had to perform well.

Keep reading


Request: Could you do a fanfic where Newt has a emotional breakdown?

~I can feel the feels already. Here we go! :) I hope you enjoy!~

“Niffler, stop that now!”

“Pickett, I know. Give me one second, please.”

“Dougal, the occamies are fine, leave them be right now….never mind, Dougal, please help them.”

Newt ran around the case, trying to keep his creatures under control. For some reason, they all decided that today was the day to drive their owner mad.

Keep reading


OK KO: Barrels and Crates Animation Director: Jake Ganz Art Director: Ismael Bergara Animated by Studio Yotta

General BotW Tips!

You can smash boxes and crates and barrels with two handed weapons like axes and sledgehammers. There is usually food or arrows in there.

You can feed animals by holding or dropping foods in front of them. This includes your horse(s).

Spotted/dappled horses are easiest to tame, but aren’t good stamina-wise; they maneuver a lot easier, though. Good beginner horses.

Two-colour horses have more stamina, but are slightly harder to tame, and slightly harder to maneuver.

Solid colour horses are the hardest to tame, but have the most stamina, and are very fast.

Keep your guardian parts for upgrading your bombs/stasis, etc.

Keep Bokoblin horns for upgrading your clothing at the fairy fountain.

Be sure to find the tower in each new area you go to right off the bat; it’s a lot easier to explore when you have a map.

If you wear clothing of the same set, you’ll gain a special bonus.

Your horses CAN DIE. Do not fall off cliffs with them…

If you attack cucoos enough, they’ll lay an egg (they still attack you after enough hits, so be careful not to hit them too much).

Recipe lists aren’t all that essential as long as you remember that there is no mixing ingredients with effects (stamina and defense or speed and stamina, etc), and you should be able to make something that is edible.
And don’t mix monster parts in a meal either.

Guardians are terrifying until you cut off their legs; if you aren’t ready to fight and kill one yet, don’t… But you can get away from them by cutting off a few legs.

Sometimes fairies fly out of random enemies as they die; catch them while you can!

You can get fairies behind Kakariko village at the great fairy fountain. Sneak up behind them and grab them - you don’t need a bottle.

Remove your sword and any metallic items if there’s a lightning storm; you’ll get struck by lightning if you don’t.

Feel free to add more info! I haven’t gotten all that far in the game myself.

A Soul Lost at Sea (Olicity Victorian AU Fanfiction) Chapter 13

Rating:  Mature

Summary:  Five years after pirates attacked his ship, Royal Navy sailor Oliver Queen returns home to England to find his affluent family in financial ruin.  So when he’s presented with the opportunity to marry Felicity, eldest daughter of the ridiculously wealthy Noah Smoak, Oliver doesn’t hesitate to capture her hand…even though he has no idea if he can capture her heart.  Or if Felicity could ever possibly learn to love a soul lost at sea.

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Victorian attitudes, Arranged Marriage, Romance, Pirates

Link:  AO3

Keep reading

Bid Ye Soft Farewell-Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Eyes in the Hold

The Thistle was a bit worse for wear, but still intact. The crew that had boarded her tried their damnedest, but she was a sturdy ship; built for rough waters and violent men.

           The crew of The Thistle was not so lucky.

           Jamie surveyed the damage caused by the battle. The deck was stained with blood, shining black in the moonlight. Splinters of wood were scattered amongst the stains. Forty-eight men lie dead or dying. Twenty of those men were of The Thistle.

           The had won, but at what cost?

           The other ship had fled. Fair Dawn, it was called. The Thistle hadn’t the numbers or the weaponry to chase. Besides, they needed to bid farewell to their dead and lost.


           “Malcolm McNeil.” The last body, wrapped in burlap, was honored and tossed overboard. Malcolm was a quiet man, but with deadly aim of a pistol. Some men said that he took three enemies to the grave with him.  Jamie was inclined to believe it.

           He leaned against the rails, watching Malcolm’s body bob with the waves until he disappeared beneath the surface. Returning to the sea.

           Would this be his fate as well?

           No. He promised his sister all those years ago. He would return to her.

           He could see her now in the back of his eyes. Dark hair whipping in the wind, blue eyes crinkled in amusement, or consternation. It could be either in regards to Jamie…

           He tried to send her small messages and letters whenever the ship was at port. But he knew he could never receive any in return. He wondered about her life now. Would she be married? Have children? Was he an uncle, and didn’t know?

           “Jamie, lad.” Murtagh came from behind him to lean on the rails next to him. Murtagh was an old family friend that Jamie had known his entire life. Dark, small, and severe, he was never free with his emotions. But Jamie knew he worried about him. “All the men are toasting their fallen mates. Yet, here ye are. Quiet as a dormouse. What’s on yer mind?”

           “Jus’ Jenny.” Jamie could be honest with the man. He always could be. His parents trusted him, his brother and sister trusted him. In turn, he trusted him as well.

           “Aye. I’m sure she’s fine, lad. She’s a braw woman.”

           “I ken she’s fine. She’d fight the devil if she had to.” This made Jamie smile, imagining his sister brawling with Lucifer himself. “I jus’… miss her, is all. I want tae go home.” Jamie had earned his fair share. Enough riches to last them, and generations after them. But Dougal would not let him go. He was an asset to the crew. A bonny swordsman and fighter, Dougal needed him as an ally. Of course, Jamie could leave at any time he wished. But Dougal held the gold over him. He could abandon ship, but he would not receive his share.

He must do his captain’s bidding before returning a success.


Jamie decided to join his comrades in toasting the fallen, as it would be a dishonor to their memory not to. The drinks flowed freely, as memories became slurs.

“De ye’ ‘memberrrrrrrr? ‘MemberWhenJohnFellOff zah ding-eee? He thought he washzzz drownin’, but. But. But… we washz 10 feet from shoooore!”

The best way to mourn a death was to celebrate the life.

“Aye! He washzzz thrasssshhhhing aye? But, hecoulda stood!”

“Nay, ye ‘member when Marcush drrrank 10 pintsh. In fivvve minoots?!”

My ship an’ clothes are all in pawn!” The singing began, and the men answered in kind.

Go down ye blood red roses, go down!”

“But, Malcolmm! He could drink ush all underrr the table!”

Tis mighty draughty ‘round Cape Horn!”

“Go down ye blood red roses, go down!”

“Aye! I’d put muh gold onnit!”

Oh, ye pinks and posies! Go down ye blood red roses, go down!”

Between the recollecting of memories and the chanting of songs, cups quickly ran dry.

“Ish there anymore rum?”

“I’m out!”

“Jamie, be a dearieeeee, and check the hold? Pleeeease?” Rupert begged Jamie, clutching his shirt front and grinning up at him, all teeth showing.

“Och, aye! If it’ll git yer dirty mitts offa me!” Rupert’s grin, surprisingly, grew bigger, stretching his face in an unbelievable way.

“Good lad.”

Jamie descended the rickety stairs into the dark and humid cargo hold. With not but a candle for light, he had to recall where everything was placed. Crates of medicinals and linens directly to the right, barrels of powder diagonal to that. There was a small chest of jewels of inconsequential size against the left wall. A box of mixed gold coins beside that. And the rum. The rum was in the very back left corner, if he remembered correctly…

He heard a scuffling behind him; that usually meant there were rats aboard, somehow. But the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a shudder ran through him.

He felt eyes on him.  

Not the small, black eyes of a rodent. Human eyes, boring into the back of his head. Intelligent eyes that calculated his every movement. Did a man from the Fair Dawn sneak into the hold?

Jamie spun quickly, the flame from the candle wavering at the sudden rush of air. But, alas, there was no one there. No glint of eyes, nor creaking of boot. Just the crates and barrels that crowded the hold.

Yer three sheets to the wind, Fraser.

Jamie gathered as many bottles of rum that he could carry, and headed for the stairs, giving one last glance around the room.


Claire watched as the man left, his eyes squinted in suspicion. She let out a gust of air then, thankful that she wasn’t caught by the large, Scottish man. He would have either killed her outright, or brought his men down on her. She was a gifted fighter, but she couldn’t take on an entire crew on her own.

She crouched, and quietly made her way to the spot the red-headed man just left. She stole a bottle of rum out of the crate, and crawled back to her hiding spot. She pulled out the orange she had stashed in her pocket, and had herself a small feast. She needed her strength.

After all, she didn’t know how long she would have to stay hidden in the hold of this ship.

Hello, friends! If you wish to hear the sea shanty the men of The Thistle sang, I’ve provided a link! Hope you enjoyed chapter 2. Chapter 3 is where the real fun begins!

Blood Red Roses:

Domestic Klance Headcanons
  • Keith and Lance love Mythbusters. They watch it together all the time and they bet on if something will be busted or not. Lance will often take a side he doesn’t necessarily agree with just to make the the episode more exciting (and despite his ego, to see the cute face Keith makes when he inevitably wins)
  • Hunk and Pidge like to watch it with them but after an incident where Monthly Mythbusters Marathon Monday coincided with Klance Makeout Monday, they always make sure to plan a different day to join in.
  • speaking of which, Lance loves to have theme days of the week. It changes every week to make it exciting but without a doubt, Keith wakes up every Sunday to a list of ideas for the week. Some themes have included, Taco Tuesdays, That thong th thong thong Thursday (one of Keith’s favorites might he just add, even with the horrific name of course), 
  • Despite the fact that Lance is a crazy driver due to his inability to handle the sensory overload that is driving Lance style (what do you mean, I could just not drive with music, Keef? that’s ludicrous I tell you!), Keith isn’t sure whether he prefers him in the passenger seat because he has no control over what his boyfriend will do
  • Lance is impossible to get out of bed however when he finally does get out, he is the sunniest of morning people, ready to take on the day. Keith on the other hand bolts out of bed the second the alarm goes on but is a grumpy robot zombie for a solid hour while being technically ‘awake’
  • Even though it’s not technically a theme or an alliteration, Lance’s favorite thing to do for Keith is make breakfast for him on Saturday or Sundays, anything he wants. It’s the only day when Keith doesn’t act like the world has betrayed him for being awake in the morning.
  • Lance is good at interior decorating, Keith doesn’t give a shit as long as he can find his stuff. 
  • When they first moved in together, Lance took Keith on an all day adventure to Ikea, Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn, Anthropologie, you name it to let him pick out something big enough to keep said stuff, only to find out it literally only included like ten things other than his clothes. That day tested their relationship more than any thing they had yet to deal with. They are reluctantly stronger for it now and have tackled the obligatory Target, Bed Bath and Beyond, and Costco trips with ease.
  • Keith has a variety of weird collections, and builds on them now that he and Lance have their own place. 
    • said collections include: geodes that he started collecting in elementary school when his mom gave him a big amethyst for Christmas. 
    • band t-shirts. He has so many more now that he got Lance hooked on collecting t-shirts too and since they have a huge amount of clothing storage. He lowkey wants a t-shirt wall in their office like in a certain store that will not be named
    • knives, obvs. much to his friend’s chagrin. He also has a super expensive sword that hangs over their mantle that Lance gives the evil eye almost every time he walks in the apt. (I have a whole fic prepared to write about this, it’s a great story I swear). 
  • Lance is in charge of almost all the cooking when they aren’t eating Hunk’s tasty leftovers. However, Keith is the ULTIMATE SNACK KING™ . He always has the best snacks with him. He buys Lance special treats that he surprises him with on movie nights. Speaking of movies, Keith has very particular stances on popcorn and candy and he always has the hookups for anyone’s snacking needs. He practically grew up on road trip foods so its part of his nature to be Prepared™. 
  • Keith introduces Lance to a lot of great music, old punk bands, classic rock, alternative music, etc. (they also occasionally listen to his guilty pleasure music from his teens. Pop-punk was a good bridge between more hardcore stuff and what Lance typically likes). They blast Blink-182 when they clean the apt. They’re 80 year old neighbors love it. 
  • Lance introduces Keith to movies, classics and new. Sometimes they watch crappy sci-fi movies and have their own Mystery Science Theater.
  • Lance leaves notes and doodles for Keith everywhere. He’s a pretty talented cartoonist. Keith keeps all of them, even most of the napkin doodles that Lance packs him for lunch. Shiro sends Lance pictures of Keith at work, smiling like a dork when he unpacks his lunch. Lance saves those.

thesilverqueenlady  asked:

For the drabble thingy, can you please do Hartwin and #29 (because it takes a better person than me to not do the "I thought you were dead" one)? I ADORE your writing, so thank you in advance :D

Thank you :)

Warning for some violence in this one, though it’s not too graphic. 

Harry hid underneath the outdoor stairway, his head low as a pair of guards made a circuit above him.  They weren’t being careful; Harry could have taken them out easily, but there was little point when he had no idea what was happening inside the building he had just been- literally- thrown out of.  He knew they had Eggsy, and he wanted to go in guns blazing- but he wouldn’t do Eggsy any good if he got himself killed for real that way.  

Once the guards were gone, Harry checked in.

“Ha- Galahad,” Merlin said, the stutter a sure sign that he had been genuinely worried.  “I couldn’t reach you.”

“I was thrown off a building.”  Harry got lucky- again.  Blown up, shot in the head, and now- his first time back in the field since recuperating- this.  

He was going to get a reputation.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can you do a blurb where you have begun dating Niall you volunteered to babysit freddie and everything is fine with you and freddie at first but its all gone crazy after a while and your freaking out cause you don't want louis or even niall to think you screwed up?? All these baby blurbs i NEED one where you are babysitting freddie for the first time pleaseeeee???? I love your writing!!!

Could you do a blurb about you and Niall being really close friends and he is babysitting either Freddie or Liam’s baby and asks you to keep him company and watch the kids with him and then he sees you interacting with the kids and realizes he is in love with you?

A/N: This isn’t edited - at all.  I got these two requests and sort of combined them.  Ended up being kind of a friends to lovers.  But all fluff.  Fluffiest fluff.  Enjoy!!!

Babysitter’s Club

The wailing starts back up the minute you sit down on the couch.  Freddie’s baby monitor lights up, and you pull yourself up to check the small, black and white screen.  Louis had warned you that he was teething, and you’d assured him you could handle it.  Niall seemed a little more reluctant to believe the brave face you were putting on, but that still didn’t stop him from hopping in the front seat of Louis’ Range Rover to head out to some charity luncheon.  If you and Niall hadn’t been such close friends for so long, you probably would’ve been better at pretending to know what to do with a baby.  If you hadn’t been in love with Niall for so long, you probably wouldn’t have agreed to help him out by babysitting for his mate’s one year old either.  But, alas, here you are.  And you are in way over your head.

You collect some of the supplies Louis had set out for you and trundle back up the stairs to the nursery.  According to the schedule Louis has typed out for when Freddie is at his house, he should be taking at least a 2 hour nap right now.  You don’t know a lot about babies, but you do know that if they’re sleep schedule gets screwed up, their whole night is going to be a disaster.  You tiptoe into the nursery and find Freddie with his fat little hands gripping onto the side of the crib.  His cheeks are wet from the crocodile tears spilling from his bright blue eyes.  You’ve measured out the exact amount of infant tylenol into a dropper, and have a warm sippy cup of milk on stand by.  You scoop him out of his crib and settle into the plush glider in the corner of the serene room.  Freddie squirms a bit, still a little unsure of you, but happy to be in someone’s arms nonetheless.  “I know, I know.  Babies can smell fear.  Your Uncle Niall told me.”  Freddie blinks up at you and kicks his chubby legs out.  You dribble the tylenol into his mouth, thanking God and whoever else is listening that he takes it without a fuss.  Curling your legs underneath your bum, you pull a small blanket from the basket next to the chair and get settled in with Freddie snuggled in your arms.  He’s happily sucking on the sippy cup and your stress level is rapidly going down with the soft suckles and coos coming from this precious baby.  

Keep reading