flat calm

Ways to Open Yourself to Receiving Energy:
  • Stretch. Really stretch all your muscles and loosen your limbs. Even just sitting up with better posture for a moment.
  • Stand outside in the sun, palms up. Take a few deep breaths and let the light flood you.
  • Listen to your favorite cathartic music a little bit louder than usual. Get lost in it.
  • Close your eyes and stand with your feet together. Focus on where your balance is. Center it if it isn’t.
  • Write down every thought you have as soon as you think it for about 10 minutes.
  • Clean/organize your space.
  • Pick up a mantra or another repetitive task that calms you.
  • Lay flat on your back in the grass. Feel how expansive the earth is beneath you.
  • Focus on your environment instead of yourself. Leave your walls behind. Let the earth protect you.

Part 2 of the Cryptid-Style Pokemon, Chikorita! AKA: A really, really strange bird that smells nice.

For special behind the scenes looks at the designing/drawing of this piece and Cyndaquil’s, consider checking out my Patreon also!

thexenobiologist  asked:

Your recent post about touch tanks reminded me of something I've always wondered: why do the sharks and rays in them actively seek out contact? They don't just seem to coincidentally bump into hands or only go after food, so what makes them want to get touched?

For years, I’ve thought, if I had a research grant, this would be what I would study. The behavior of sharks and rays in touchpools. 

Where I was proctoring them, we were taught we could never say that the sharks and rays ‘liked’ the interaction. All the species in the tank were eusocial species by nature - cownose rays live in large schools, and the smaller reef sharks are often found in fairly high concentrations in the wild and go as far as to sleep in piles in the mangrove roots. So, the messaging we were taught was that the rays and sharks didn’t find soft contact with human hands inherently negative because they were used to casual social contact from conspecifics (in contrast to like, solitary pelagic sharks who only get touched by food, mates, or things trying to eat them). As far as messaging went, I liked that way of doing it, because it wasn’t anthropomorphic and it allowed us to do some education about the natural behaviors of our animals while we explained. 

Except for that part where, as a behaviorist who ended up spending a lot of time at that touch tank (it was the only one I could work for a period of time when I had an injury I couldn’t get wet) that really obviously wasn’t the whole story. I started noticing the same animals coming to the front repeatedly, and slowing down and rising up under certain hands (generally still, flat, calm, mid-way down the water) while they’d dive deeper under others (generally children’s hands, ones moving a lot, or those that were hovering just out of the water). I watched rays rostrum-bump hands that they’d slowed down under but that hadn’t reached down to pet them, and I watched other rays specifically circle back to a couple of hands multiple times - sometimes to the point of circling back as soon as they were out of reach. There was obviously something going on in terms of preferences and decision making with the fish and the hands they chose to interact with, but no amount of casual observation and anecdotes does a scientifically valid hypothesis make. 

Point is, I don’t think we know. I personally believe that in really well designed tanks like the one I worked, where they had a huge amount of non-touch area and depth and current and natural habitat to spend time in, that there was definitely some preference for interaction with hands that behaved a certain type of way. I can’t tell you why and I’ll probably never have the money/time to take over an entire touch tank and quantify that hypothesis, though. 

Misconceptions-Chapter 2

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Natasha x Bucky, Platonic Tony x reader.

Warnings: ANGST. Pregnancy, violence, insecurity and self-loathing, Mutant reader (powers similar to Jean from X-men with a little immortality thrown in) smut maybe? i may add a little Logan if Ya’ll are into that kinda thing. Sad Bucky. 

 This one physically hurt. i aint gonna lie. Dont hate me. 

Originally posted by oreo-wonderbatch

Tony stares at you, mouth slack “oh Jesus, oh (y/n)” I’m crying now you can get through this (y/n) big girl panties. “ I need to leave T. He can never know, no one can, this is my responsibility” Tony opens his mouth to protest, you hold up your hand silencing him “no Tony I see how he looks at her, he’s undeniably in love with her, its Natasha for fuck sake” you take a deep breath, fresh tears accumulating in your eyes “I’m not Natasha, I’m a freak, A mistake” Bucky’s earlier words echo in your head. Mistake just a mistake “I’ll never be able to give him what she does Tony, and I’m sure as hell not letting a mistake Buck made ruin his relationship. I’m leaving and I need your help T” you shove down the onslaught of emotions, its fraying the edge of your control, you’re losing the ability to keep a lid on your telekinesis and you need to stop. Now or you’re going to have, what you have affectionately labelled in your head as an “episode”. “I need new papers, new passport a new identity. An apartment a new life, I need to get out of here T”

“please Tony I need you to do this for me, I have no one else” you whisper.

He stares at you hard lines decorating his face, you can hear the battle going on inside his head and you know you’ve won. “Alright kiddo, I don’t agree with this but I’ll do as you ask, get your shit together you leave in 3 days” you heave a relieved sigh and throw your arms around him “Thank you tony. Thank you” he gently pries your arms away from him “go pack. Do it quietly. They will suspect” you nod, mentally steeling yourself to make your entrance back into the communal area you’re doing the right thing (y/n), you can’t force him to be with you. He chose Natalia and you are not going to ruin that. Admittedly your inner monologue is not helping and you can feel your carefully crafted façade cracking. You have to do this. You love him. You have to.


“you and Bucky” Nat asks with a sly smirk “me and Bucky?” you counter, “what’s going on there kitty? Are you dating?” you pale, totally unprepared for Nat’s super special spy skills “I uh. we um…I don-” you splutter “Ah come on now (y/n), I’m your bestie dish bitch” motherfucking Natasha. “we aren’t dating Nat. we sleep together, I help with his nightmares, we watch movies and listen to music, he’s a male version of you, but we have sex” you answer, skirting around what’s she’s really asking you “do you have feelings for him? Does he- “she takes a breath “does he have feelings for you” she finally asks, you hear the worry in her tone and feel the affection for her double, you didn’t deserve her, you really didn’t “No natty its jut stress relief. A man like Buck is not going to catch feelings for the first dame to float his way in 70 years” She frowns at you “I wish you would stop doing that kitty. There’s nothing wrong with you” you scoff and turn away missing the relieved look on her face as she contemplates your words.  


Bucky is waiting for you when you return to your bedroom, the face you love so much staring at you, hurt and confusion flicker in his eyes “Kitty” he says in the low baritone that sends shivers down our spine “what’s going on?” he asks “why are ya avoiding me? Did I do somethin’ wrong doll?” his voice cracks on the last syllable, what you’re doing to him breaks your heart but you have to break him, dismantle the friendship you spent years cultivating or he will come look for you, Bucks nothing but loyal. Dude doesn’t know when to quit.

You square your shoulders and muster the most acidic tone you can “what have you done buck? You fucked me for six months, used me, broke me and then threw me away like trash when my best friend finally decided to look at you” you’re shaking now, Bucky’s face falls with every venomous word you hurl at him, pain and anger flashing across his features “I was nothing more to you than a warm body to stick your dick in and soothe your fucked up mind” he stands abruptly, looming over you trying his best to contain his anger “ what the fuck (y/n)! ya agreed! No feelings, no attachment, I didn’ ask ya to feel anything for me, I didn’ want ya to feel anything for me” you suck in a sharp breath “that’s on ya and I won’t apologize for takin what ya offered me so willingly” he’s looking at you straight in the eye, this isn’t your Bucky. You don’t know this man, cold and calculated, indifferent to the obvious pain etched on your face “and why the fuck did ya think this was anything more than a quick fuck, that I wanted anything more from ya?” he spits out through clenched teeth.

“ya aint nothing special doll” Your bottom lip quivers, willing yourself not to cry, not too breath, His face twists in horror as he realizes what he’s said “(y/n) Jesus, no wait I mean-”he desperately tries to back peddle

 “So this is what dying feels like” you think

“Get out. Now. Don’t look at me. Don’t speak to me. I never want to see your face again sergeant Barnes” your voice is flat, calm, devoid of all emotion.

“kitty please, I’m so so- “he pleads “GET OUT JAMES! GET THE FUCK OUT” you’re screeching, sobbing, slamming your fists into his chest “IF YOU WANT TO THROW ME AWAY THEN FUCKING LEAVE YOU SON OF A BITCH”

“(y/n) …” He tries “Get. Out James’ you seethe.

He takes a step towards you, arms outstretched, desperately trying to pull you into his arms “don’ do this, please, don’ shut me out, let’s talk this out baby please i’m sorry” he begs.

“No.” balling your fists. you stare him down and hiss “I aint nothing special Barnes, remember?” You see him break then, the sound that leaves his mouth caught between a gasp and a wail,his face mirroring what your trying so hard not to let out, he physically deflates, shoulders slumping in defeat. You take a morbid sense of pleasure knowing that you have hurt him as much as he hurt you, mistake just a mistake.

He leaves without another word.

You send out your resignation letter the same night.

 Tags: I’m just tagging everyone. I take perverse pleasure in your tears. fight me

@beckyyyyyx3 @smile-sugar @buckybear97 @i-had-a-life-once

@minxyvixen @tilltheendwilliwrite @crownedloki @whyisbuckyso

@redroomproperty @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @griseldaevn

@barry1215 @marvelous-fvcks @denialanderror @gingerbatchwife @smsimoes @kt-the-destroyer @nennesse @chipilerendi @wheresthekillswitch @bovaria @buckyhoneybarnes @loricameback @lancefuckrr @mellifluous-melodramas @buckyismyaesthetic

Low-key headcanon that Alfendi either does or at least used to keep an aquarium, and is/was very serious about it

manic-entity  asked:

Do you know of any kinds of mermaids or sirens or other sea dwellers in Norse myth? (If there's two things I love, it's mermaids and Norse myth)


Off the top of my head, I cannot think of specific mermaids in Norse mythology. I can, however, recall that there is a Danish fairytale from which Disney made “The Little Mermaid,” and that is called the same thing in Danish: Den lille havfrue. You can read a translation of that for free by following the link.

Yet, there are plenty of sea-related beings and figures in Norse mythology. I am not familiar with specific creatures, like mermaids or sirens, but there are a lot of figures who may fit those roles. After all, Scandinavia has always been a place that had close connection with seafaring. I won’t be able to cover them all, but I can speak of and mention a few of these sea-related figures, at the very least.

As for my sources, you may see them below. All the page numbers listed throughout this post correspond to footnote 1.(1.)

I will start with the major figures, which are two gods that have very strong connections to the sea. There may be others, but I will just limit the discussion to those which are most prominently sea-based. The two gods that I speak of are Njörðr (Njord) and Ægir.

Njörðr (Njord):

Njord is a Vanir, and he is mentioned by Snorri more directly (that is, not just in the Skáldskaparmál section). Here is what is said about him:

“He lives in heaven in a place called Noatun (Enclosure of Ships). He rules over the motion of wind and moderates sea and fire. It is to him one must pray for voyages and fishing. He is so rich and wealthy that he can grant wealth of lands or possessions to those who pray to him for this.” (23)

There is more about him later in this text, in a section called Skáldskaparmál, which is about poetic dictation:

“How should Njord be referred to? By calling him the god of chariots or descendant of Vanir or a Van and father of Freyr and Freyja, the giving god.” (75)

I tend to see Njord as pertaining more to the riches of the sea. In other words, he, perhaps, represents the reward that the sea offers people; control of the sea and its resources would bring great wealth.

There is more, but that mostly pertains to how he came to be included among the Æsir, or other stories that he is a part of, but not playing a central role in. Ægir on the other hand, of whom we will shortly speak, is perhaps even more associated with the ocean than Njord.

Ægir (Also called Hler or Gymir):

He is generally considered to be the god of the sea, and he is best known for his feast with the Æsir (which goes badly thanks to an eagle that was actually a giant). Him and another god, one named Bragi, talk in great length about the details of poetry. Anyway, Ægir lives on an island, according to Skáldskaparmál, which is called Hlesey. For the most part, Ægir seems to play more of an ‘asker’ role in this text, asking Bragi questions and providing an opportunity for an explanation that will help the reader learn about poetics and mythology. 

Although Snorri (the author of this source I am discussing) kind of negates Ægir’s role quite a bit, once we look into the ways that the sea itself can be poetically referred to, it is obvious that he has strong connections with the sea.

Ægir is actually used as a personification for the ocean or sea at times. Note that these are where his three names come from. For example, this is from Skáldskaparmál:

“What terms for sea are there? It is called mere, ocean (ægir), engulfer (gymir), roarer (hler), main, road, depth, salt, water, swell.” (139)

To quote the poet Arnor:

“Let the court learn how the keen-spirited king of earls pursued the sea, the irresistible prince did not cease to oppose the ocean.” (139)

To quote the poet Ref:

“Gymir’s spray-cold spae-wife (Ran) often brings the twisted-rope-bear (ship) in Ægir’s (Ocean’s) jaws when the wave breaks.” (91)

Here, too, is a portion of a poem in Old Norse containing a reference to Ægir as the ocean:

Alfas began verr ægis
ítr báls haai málu;

The splendid hater of the fire of the sea (he who likes to rid himself of gold, the generous prince) defend the beloved pf the enemy of the wolf (Odin’s wife Jord-earth or land); (168)

Furthermore, Ægir has nine daughters with his wife Ran. Here are their names:

  1. Himinglæva (Heaven-bright)
  2. Dufa (Dip)
  3. Blodughadda (Blood-haired)
  4. Hefring (Lifting)
  5. Unn (Wave)
  6. Hronn (Wave)
  7. Bylgia (Billow)
  8. Drofn (Comber)
  9. Kolga (Cold One)

Ran (Ægir’s wife):

I am doing this an edit, so I shouldn’t really do too much to change the original post (since some won’t see the edits), but Ran should be considered on her own and not always associated through Ægir. After all, she is considered to be a goddess in her own right, so she ought to be given that respect. 

@bewareimfrench suggested that Ran could be a suitable candidate for a mermaid, and that honestly may not be a far stretch because she is equally as associated with the ocean as Ægir is. Here is a poem of her personified:

Segl skekr of hlyn–Huglar–
(hvast drífa skip) rasta,
en föll–of gram–Gylli
grunn (djúp) hata unna.
Rán viðr hafhreinum
háraust–skapar flaustum–
(hrönn fyrir húfi þunnum
heil klofnar) frið–deilu.

Sail shake above the prince on the current-maple (ship); tall ships drive keenly; the shallows near Hugl are dangerous to the waves’ horse (ship). Noisy Ran does not create peace for the sea-deer (ships); she causes conflict for cruisers, the entire wave breaks before the slender bow. (180)

I must say, though, that she is not an evil figure, even though that poem may seem a bit negative. It does show, however, that she has considerable power.

There is also Jormungandr (also called the Midgard Serpent):

Jormungandr is a giant serpent who is a child of Loki’s and the giantess Angrboda. This is said about Jormungandr:

“…[Odin] threw the serpent into that deep sea which lies round all lands, and this serpent grew so that it lies in the midst of the ocean encircling all lands and bites on its own tail.” (27)

Jormungandr is involved in a few stories, such as being magically disguised as a giant’s cat that Thor could not pick up or also Thor’s fishing trip with a giant named Hymir. Jormungandr is often used poetically to refer to both Thor (because Jormungandr is arguably Thor’s greatest foe, besides giants in general) and Loki (the father of such a creature).

There are also figures known as Sea-Kings and these are their names:

I believe that most of these names don’t refer to actual deities, but rather famous semi-historical figures (namely Vikings) that came to be used to refer to the ocean and sea. A Viking, after all, is a king of the sea, for it is the sea that guide a Viking to treasure and wealth (and perhaps Njord guides them to this as well, since it is treasure they seek).

“Atli, Frodi, Ali, Glammi, Beiti, Ati and Beimuni, Audmund, Gudmund, Atal and Gestil, Geitir, Gauti, Gylfi, Svendi.

Gæir, Eynef, Gaupi and Endil, Skekkil, Ekkil, Skefil and Solvi, Half and Hemlir, Harek and Gor, Hagbard, Haki, Hraudnir, Meiti.

Hiorolf and Hraudung, Hogni, Mysing, Hunding, Hviting, Heiti, Mævil, Hialmar, Moir, Hæmir, Mævi, Rodi, Rakni, Rer and Leifi.

Randver, Rokkvi, Refiner, Leifnir, Næfil, Ræfil, Nori, Lyngvi, Byrvil, Kilmund, Beimi, Iorek, Iosmund, Thvinnil, Yngvi, Teiti.

Virfil, Vinnil, Vandil, Solsi, Gautrek and Hun, Giuki, Budli, Homar, Hnefi, Horvi, Sorvi. I can see no more sea-kings.” (155)

These name often appear in poetry, especially in Icelandic sagas. Here is an example from Brennu-Njáls saga, and now you will understand the reference (I have bolden their names):

The shaping gods drove ashore
the ship of the keeper of bells (Thangbrand);
the slayer of the son of the giantess (Thor)
smashed Bison on the sea-gull’s rest (sea);
no help came from Christ
when the sea’s horse (ship) was crushed;
I don’t think God was guarding
Gylfi’s reindeer (ship) at all.

Thor drove Thangbrand’s beast (ship)
of Thvinnil far from its place;
he shook and shattered
the ship and slammed it ashore;
never will that oak (ship) of Atal’s field
be up to sea-faring again;
the storm, sent by him (Thor),
smashed it so hard into bits.

And lastly, these are the various ways to which the sea or ocean can be referred to, poetically speaking (Kennings). 

Most we have discussed in some manner, but such references give interesting insight into the figures of Norse mythology that are actually associated with the sea (I have bolded names of personified figures):

“How shall sea be referred to? By calling it Ymir’s blood, visitor to the gods (Ægir), husband of Ran (Ægir), father of Ægir’s daughters (Ægir),…, land of Ran and of Ægir’s daughters and of ships and of terms for sea-ship, of keel, steam, planks, strake, of fish, ice, sea-kings’ way and roads, no less ring of the islands, house of the sands and seaweed and skerries, land of the fighting-tackle and of sea-birds, of sailing wind.” (91)

“What terms for sea are there? It is called mere, ocean (ægir), engulfer (Gymir), roarer (Hler), main, road, depth, salt, water, swell.” (139)

“Sea, every-lying, salt, ocean (Ægir), main, wetness, swim, flat one, dead calm and bay, resounding, overhang, emptiness, brawler, rocker and mere, sucker, suck, same, swallower, maelstrom and fjord.

Sound, creek, good passage, fluid and expanse, tempest, depth, breaker, dark, flood and surf, swell sparkler, engulfer (Gymir) and flower, rumbler and unquiet, surge, fen, snatcher.

Crashing, wake, league, fishing-ground, inlet and fishing-bank, water, deep and submersion, cove, tarn and canal, storm, ditch, pool, current, stream and brook, channel, spring, fount, eddy, waterfall and firth.

Herfring (lifting), roller, white one and offing, Hronn (wave), Ran (plunderer), Kolga (cold one) and Himinglæva (heaven-bright), Drofn (comber), Unn (wave) and sweller, Dufa (dip), Bylgia (billow), shoal and bore, Bloughadda (bloody-haired). (160-1)

Of course, I have by no means have covered everything (even what I have covered is only a summary of what is actually said), but that should give you more than enough of an idea about the role of the sea, and related figures/  creatures, in Norse mythology. I hope this has been interesting! I enjoyed researching the information for you.

Vera vitur og reika langt.
(Be wise and wander far.)


1. Snorri Sturluson, Edda, Anthony Faulkes trans. (repr., 1987; London: J.M. Dent, 1995). You may also read this for free online via Viking Society for Northern Research.

2. Robert Cook trans., Brennu-Njáls saga, in The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, vol. 3, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder. (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 125.

young hanzo - reading, absent mindedly summoning a dragon friend as he gets into the flow of the story - being calm, being in control, being kind to himself

dedicated to my love

andromeda3116  asked:

#32, "It looks good on you"


No real spoilers for Flatliners itself beyond what you can see in the trailers and some minor settings stuff. Also this AU like. The characters in the AU don’t act like the ones in the movie XD Mostly because they’re different people, OTL. 


“I’m worried about her,” Bodhi says, and fidgets.

Cassian doesn’t say anything. He keeps his hands tight in his pockets, and watches through his hair.

“She died,” says Leia. “She was dead for two minutes. The aftereffects are still going all through her system. I mean, you saw what it did to her brain.”

“We don’t know what it did to her brain,” says Bodhi. “That’s the problem.”

Out on the fire escape, Jyn swings her legs. She’s been sitting out there for ten minutes, Cassian thinks. Ten minutes, maybe more. Wet hair and bare legs and in a shirt that’s nowhere near thick enough to keep out the winter cold. Something itches in his throat.

“What if all she’s fucked up and crazy, now,” says Han, without preamble. Leia hits him.


“I mean, what if she is? She died, who knows what the hell it did to her brain?” Han considers. “I mean, putting aside the fact that the whole thing was her idea in the first place, because she’s batshit insane—”

“She can hear you,” says Bodhi. He fidgets a little more, and then says, “I’m going to go out and talk to her.”

“No,” says Cassian. “No, I’ll go.”

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Braids & War Paint (Part 10)

Notes On:
Part 1: / Part 2: / Part 3: / Part 4: / Part 5: / Part 6: / Part 7: / Part 8: / Part 9:

The Ellywegian humidity had gone to Aelin’s hair by her third day of training. Nehemia had been teaching her all she could, about visions, about certain wyrdmarks that Aelin could use (with high risk), she learned about the use of blood in magic, how her fae blood may change wyrdmarks. Nehemia had pushed Aelin to her limits, the last straw was the wyrdtravelling, the use of marks could help Aelin move from one side of the castle to the other. 

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NSFW Grab-Bag Prompt Challenge + Hartwin + 4. Frottage + 20. First time for @thirstforfirth

Thanks for the prompt! This is the first cliched setup that came to mind… :D

Eggsy can’t remember the exact moment where everything shifts – when he stops thinking about the training he’s supposed to be doing with Harry and starts thinking about something entirely different. When the sweat on his skin brings out a shiver of anticipation, and his hard breathing grows shallow and eager, and the burn of exertion in his body melts into a rush of need. When he stops thinking about Harry’s body as an obstacle, something to fight against, and starts wanting it right where it is.

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Sunny afternoon

I want you… I want you so bad…

John was typing. The flat was calm and quiet except for the music streaming from the laptop. Sherlock was lying on the couch, eyes half closed, drifting back and forth between dream and reality. 

It’s driving me mad…

John took a sip from his cup. It made a homey sound as it came back down on the wooden surface. A fly was buzzing by the window. 

Sherlock vaguely recognized the song, the tune. It was some famous… band? Artist? He could not really remember. It was strangely soothing, the melody repeating itself over and over, words sung in soft rock ‘n roll voices, drums, guitars, everything melting together in chaotic harmony. Simple yet complicated. 

I want you… You know I want you so bad.

John kept typing. 

It’s driving me mad, it’s driving me mad.

The music kept rising, reaching for a hypothetical climax. It was relaxing, lying on the couch, drifting in and out. Letting the music seep in through every nerve, flow through the veins. Sherlock took a deep breath, then let it out. John took another sip, cleared his throat. The fly buzzed on. 

Abruptly the song was over. Another one came on, soft guitar sounding like the golden rays peeking through the curtains. 

… it’s alright…

Without really noticing, Sherlock drifted all the way to dreamland. 

Title: What Maketh The Monster? 
Author: Anon Anton
Artist: delicious-irony
Rating: Mature
Tropes: Accidental Marriage, Terrible Life Verse, Cas seeing Dean’s soul (kind of), Casefic, Enemies to friends to lovers, Huddling for warmth, Merpeople, Mythical creature au

Posting Date: September 5, 2017

Summary:  After that first ghost at the Sandover office, Dean Smith and Sam Wesson were hooked on hunting. After finding an article online, they head to the mountains to investigate reports of years worth of missing persons and a corpse roaming the woods.
On this hunt, only their fourth, Sam and Dean discover a whole lot about their new side-line, about the nature of monsters, and about hate and love. Especially love.
Castiel has been sleeping for a long, long time, dreaming memories of his past. He is less than thrilled to be awoken by a badly executed spell by two brand new hunters. He is even less impressed to be dragged into their amateur efforts at hunting down the mystery creature terrorizing his woods.
Sam and Dean aren’t sure what to make of Castiel. They’ve never seen anything like him before. But then, Castiel hasn’t met humans like Sam and Dean before either…


“It was a zombie.”

Dean froze, his discomfort and nerves forgotten as he blinked in surprise at her words. He only just managed to stay in character as his suddenly chilled sweat sent a shiver up his spine. He kept his voice even as he scanned his notes again. “I see, and could you, uh, could you describe this—zombie for me please?”

“Well, it was Mr. Croft, but dead,” Mrs. Clarke answered matter-of-factly. And unhelpfully. She didn’t seem put off that her words could have landed her in the loony bin if it had been anyone else asking the questions. Dean had questioned a few people since he and Wesson, his colleague, had started hunting. Some had been scared and some had been in shock, one had even been high. Some were earnest or assured. But Mrs. Clarke, her white hair scraped back from her deeply lined forehead, blue eyes icy, was the most composed witness he had met so far.

“Uh huh, and can you describe to me what exactly is was about him that made you believe he was dead, ma'am?” he asked, trying to keep his voice in the flat calm of his ‘Agent Plant’ persona.

anonymous asked:

UF, US, and SF brothers reactions to someone (like an ex boyfriend) smacking their S/O, like in the face.

* Oh fucking hell
* Trin for one, would actually leopard pounce on the asshole (cos m short) and start clawing at his face with my nails
* Don’t touch my bebs.

In this scenario, the skells are nearby when the event occurs.


Almost instantly, you’ll be able to feel the temperature in the room plummet, the air thick, heavy and alive with barely contained magic, thrumming and electric and dangerous. Oh, but Sans won’t use his magic, no. He’d like to beat the every loving shit out of the asshole with his fists. Unless his S/O holds him back, he will actually go through with it, leaving the ex an inch from passing out before dumping him somewhere at the side of the road. Even if his S/O holds him back, he’ll still deck the ex hard enough to break his nose before taking his S/O by the hand and teleporting away.


Hell hath no fury like a Papyrus pissed off. Whatever his S/O says, he won’t be able to hear it. He gets tunnel vision on the fucktard, seeing only his target because he’s so pissed off and protective. His magic is crackling and rolling off him in waves, and he absolutely will use it. He won’t stop until he beats the lowlife scum half to death. Afterwards, he needs to take some time alone to cool off rather than immediately return to his S/O.


Looking at him, you wouldn’t guess how scary he gets when he actually gets pissed because he rarely gets pissed. His first response is to remove his S/O from the situation, check on them and make sure they’re alright. Then, he goes off alone, finding the ex and hunting him down. Sans is way scary, magic visibly leeching off him and into the surrounding atmosphere. While small and cheerful most of the time, don’t forget that he’s very well trained. He’ll rough the ex up with the greatest amount of pain and the smallest amount of visible injury, warning the piece of armpit stink to never come near his S/O again.


He teleports directly in front of the ex, slamming him throat first into the nearest flat surface. He’s calm and casual while he pins the ex down, choking him until he’s grabbing at his throat and struggling.
“I really suggest you never do that again. I mean, unless you want me to kill you then by all means, just say so.”


He hits the ex exactly where they hit his S/O, thrice as hard. He would keep going unless his S/O stops him. Then he’ll snap a pic of the fucktard and make sure it goes viral that he’s a desperate abusive asshole. Shame him publicly, shame him personally and threaten him forever.


He doesn’t bother speaking to the fuck. He just slams him into a wall with his magic, pinning him there as he slowly walks forward to confront him. He’ll turn to his S/O, hands in pockets. “What do you want me to do with him?”
Whatever happens to the ex is his S/O’s choice.