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.
2

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.

Flashback:

“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

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)

Sæl,

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.
(2.)


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.)


FOOTNOTES:

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.

You know the two scenes from the finale, where Nora leans against Ren and they have a personal moment and then in a later scene Nora leans against Jaune and they have a team moment?

I finally remembered what the scenes reminded me of. Here’s a snippet from Patrick Rothfuss’ The Wise Man’s Fear where one of the characters, Vashet, is explaining to Kvothe the differences between two kinds of touch and thus, what is intimate and what isn’t. 

Vashet looked thoughtful for a moment, then seemed to reach some kind of decision. “Here. It will be simpler to show you. Watch.”

I watched the familiar Adem impassivity slide over her face, leaving her face blank as new paper. Her voice lost most of its inflection at the same time, shedding its emotional content. “Tell me what I mean when I do this,” she said.

Vashet stepped close, making no eye contact. Her hand said, respect. “You fight like a tiger.” Her face was expressionless, her voice flat and calm. She grabbed hold of the top of my shoulder with one hand, and gripped my arm with the other, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s a compliment,” I said.

Vashet nodded and stepped back. Then she changed. Her face grew animated. She smiled and met my eyes. She stepped close to me. “You fight like a tiger,” she said, her voice glowing with admiration. One of her hands rested on the top of my shoulder while the other slipped around my biceps. She squeezed.

I was suddenly embarrassed at how close we were standing. “It’s a sexual advance,” I said.

It’s not 100% the same situation, but it explains wonderfully how the same action can have different meanings. 

flickr

Good Morning from Scotland 

5 o'clock dawn Dingieshowe beach  Orkney by Premysl Fojtu
Via Flickr:
This morning I woke up (unintentionally) at 4:30. It was already light outside and having had a long period of poor weather I was really surprised to see a flat calm morning with just a few clouds. The decision was made in seconds and a few minutes later both me and Gina were on our way to the beach down the road. I am glad we went. Shortly after sunrise the wind picked up, clouds closed in and brought several hours of continuous snowing. Most people were still asleep when I was enjoying this scenery and then they just woke up into a miserable winter day. We are both chuffed that we were able to start the day on a positive note. ;-)

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.


UF!Sans

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.

UF!Pap

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.

US!Sans

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.

US!Pap

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.”

SF!Sans

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.

SF!Pap

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. 

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. 

False Pond: It is difficult to portray this creature in a single state, as it is most highly animated when given cause.  While such a striking creature might be easily visible against most biological surfaces, when calm, within the Darkening Wood, this creature is not easily spotted.  Flowing into low spots and appearing as a calm, flat black surface, we found this creature when one of our researchers unintentionally stepped on it.  Roiling into a froth of rolling eyes, this creature skittered off from underfoot, flowing over the path of least resistance to escape the source of its agitation.  We were fortunate enough to be able to observe other specimens of this species, and found its transformations to demonstrate a tremendous amount of flexibility in its shape.  We are most reminded of a slime mold, only one that exists in a far quicker frame of motion.

anonymous asked:

That ask about Ryou going searching for Shiro made me think of something: Imagine Shiro and the other paladins seeing a broadcast about a special arena match featuring the return of the Champion and Shiro's heart just stopping when he see's a terrified looking Ryou on the screen.

welp.  You’ve done it now, nonnie.

“Shiro, could you come to the bridge please?”

The princess’ voice over the com and Shiro looked up from where he was working on training the rest of the team on hand-to-hand.  Lance took a pot shot at him with an elbow and Shiro, smiling a little, caught it in his palm without turning his head to look, peripheral vision easily catching the telegraphed move.

“Good job, Lance.  Always take the opening when you see it.”  He straightened and the rest of the team, looking relieved, and, in Hunk’s case, a little less scared, straightened as well.  “Be right there, princess.  All right team, take five. Then try out your new move on each other.  Gently.”

“That was her ‘uh oh’ tone,” Pidge observed, moving over to get her glasses.  Shiro didn’t comment on it because - well, Pidge was right.  Allura’s voice somehow got stiffer and even more enunciated and ‘proper’ when she was concerned about something.

“Uh oh voice?” Lance was suddenly interested - and giving Shiro the woolly eyeball.  Starting to grin.  “You’re in trouble,” he singsonged.  Shiro ran a towel over the back of his neck and debated getting back into his uniform.  He didn’t feel right coming into a situation, especially on the bridge and with Allura no less, out of uniform but he’d just get it dirty in his current state if he did and he didn’t think that tone of voice offered time for a shower and making himself presentable.   He accepted the water packet Hunk passed him with a smile and shook his head.

“Just keep up with your training.  I’ll be back to check on you once I get the chance.”

Lance gave him a salute - which he assumed meant the team was going to rest for at least ten minutes instead of five once he was out the door but he wasn’t going to call them on it.  They had been working hard.  Keith however fell into step next to him.  Shiro arched an eyebrow at him but Keith just scowled and kept pace with him for the door.  Keith had always stuck close but since the run in with Haggar and the crash landing on the planet with the space lizards, there was a definite shift in the way he - it wasn’t hovering but it certainly had a more protective feel to it.  Shiro appreciated it - and knew he was going to have to get it to stop.  Keith had other things he needed to concentrate on.  Just - not yet.  Whatever Allura wanted, Shiro didn’t have a problem with Keith hearing it too.  If anything happened to him, he wanted Keith to lead and that started with being part of making planes.

“What?  How come Keith gets to go?  Allura didn’t use her ‘uh oh’ voice on him.”

Which, Shiro suspected meant Lance was looking for a way out of more training but he shrugged.  It wasn’t as if they were keeping secrets about anything.

“Well, come on.”

Pidge and Hunk took one look at each other and scrambled to their feet as well, falling into quick step behind a trotting Lance.

Looked like Allura was getting the whole crew after all.

Not that she seemed particularly bothered by it, beyond a raised set of thin eyebrows when they all walked onto the bridge shortly after her call.  The main vid screen was up, trailing alien lettering across it like a marque sign.  A vicious looking face, something that looked like a bad mug shot, flared to life and somewhere in the back of Shiro’s mind, something went very cold.  His stomach rolled, nauseated without reason, and the next picture that flashed by was of the same alien, armed with dual knives the size of bastard swords in the middle of a fight, a frozen second of time in a death struggle that Shiro recognized the way a sick fever that had settled into the bones was recognizable each time it surfaced.  He averted his eyes from the screen and forced all his concentration on the princess.  Who was watching him with the tight lines of worry about her eyes.

“What’s going on?”  His voice at least stayed steady but he saw the way the other paladin’s craned their necks to see what was still flashing across the screen and he knew they were putting the math together and realizing what that was - and what it meant to him.  He refused to look at them.

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” still clipped but softer and he both appreciated that and registered that anything that started off with an apology was probably going to be uncomfortable, at the least, for him.  He unconsciously squared his already set shoulders and met her eyes.  He could do this.  He was the Black Paladin.  And he was the squad leader.  Everything else came second place to that.  Whatever Allura say she took it as her sign to continue.

“As you know, we had a constant monitor running on all the news sources we can access.  Both for any hints that will help us with assigning new targets and to keep an ear out for any news involving Voltron.  We programed in quite a few words that will immediately flag if they come up.”  She gave him another look, part apologetic, part ‘don’t ask me to apologize it was necessary’.  “One of those words is Champion.”

The sick feeling intensified, curling rotten in his gut, coiling up the back of his spine and wrapping around the base of it.  The fever dream feeling moved through the back of his brain, always there, just a little less dormant now.  He kept his jaw looked and his eyes straight ahead on her and he didn’t miss the way Keith stepped to his side and just a little behind him or the way the rest of the team went silent.  Coran interrupted.

“As you know, we run hundreds of words through the system every tic, sorting through the news and trying to find useful tips.  Most of its rubbish of course.  That and a few catchy song lyrics really.”  The brief distraction lost to his usual enthusiasm.  “But every now and then we get a useful hit!  Loose lips ground star ships and all that.”

“Right,” Allura took over again.  “We got a pip just a few moments ago.  It appears one of the more affluent planets is hosting a Gladiator event.”  Her tone made her opinion obvious as only Allura could.  Her eyes met his and her voice went gentler.  Almost apologetic again.  “Shiro, I thought you should see this.”

His common sense was screaming at him not to look.  That he already knew what the fighter scrolls looked like, that it would cause a flashback, that his team didn’t need to see him fall apart again - but if the princess thought it was important than he trusted her judgement.  Eyes narrowing a little, bracing himself, he turned to look at the screen. 

“They’re hailing it as quite the event.”  She paused, just for a second.  “And the core game is for the return of the Champion to the fight ring.”

The picture flashed up on the screen.  Dark close cut hair except for the longer fringe in the front, stormy grey eyes, a lean square face.  Shiro went completely still.  The universe stopped, in that split second, just before it crashed like broken glass into sand and something, small and foolish, thought - if he would just not move, maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t either and this wouldn’t be real.  Lance made a surprised noise.  And, surprisingly, it was Hunk that spoke, voice cracking a little, in surprise and hurt.

“Instructor Ryou?”

The ‘mug shot’ was a little out of focus and the man in it looked a bit worse for the wear, bruised and hollow cheeked, lip split.  But it was the eyes that tore the heart right out of Shiro.  The wide, scared, lost looking, unprepared eyes.

“Who?” Lance wanted to know as Pidge made a small squeaking noise and said:

“I didn’t realize they were identical.”

The next still was of the same man, the man that looked so much like a younger Shiro from only a year ago, teeth bared, pure fury and anger across his face, features splashed with something dark and teeth bared in a snarl as he lunged at something much bigger than him bare handed.

“It’s his brother.  Shiro’s twin brother.”  Keith was explaining but it was all buzzing in Shiro’s ears, somewhere distant and hollow.  He could taste metal in his mouth, tinny and foreign.

“He’s supposed to be on Earth though,” Keith’s voice was still going.  “He shouldn’t be out here.”

Safe on Earth.

Anywhere but here.

“Suit up, team.”  Shiro’s voice was flat and deathly calm.  He was already heading for his compartment, stride intent and irrevocable.  “We’ve got a fight to stop.”

part 2

Scavenging

Sponsored fic from @katrani who asked for “MInako taking a scavenger hunt too seriously” Thank you so much for all of your support! 

“Haruka, you’re a butch lesbian! Don’t tell me you don’t have a leatherman or some shit laying around in your pocket.” She tried to pry the license plate off the car.

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” Haruka crouched down next to Mina.

“Do you have one or not? Lives are on the line here!” She held her hand out expectantly.

If you would have asked Haruka, earlier that day, if she felt she was going to spend her evening stealing a license plate off a Honda with Mina in the graceful dim of twilight, she would have said no.

And then she would have reconsidered her friendship with Mina, and said maybe.

“Haruka!” Mina hissed “Any day now!”

Haruka dug down into her pocket and pulled out her knife, handing it to Mina. “We’re gonna get fucking arrested.”

Mina began to pry at the license plate, “I can live with that, but I can’t live with the idea of Rei winning this.”

It all seemed very reasonable until the blue and red began to flicker in the shiny white paint of the car’s bumper.

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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

there’s for you [8/9]

She gets one morning with Kara.

One glimpse of what it could be. Slow breaths and easy smiles as they blink sleepily at each other. Kara’s arms rising high in the air, hands twisting as she stretches. 

She extends her feet in front of her, shoulder blades shifting as she reaches down to her toes. Kara’s face looks relaxed in the sunlight. Breathing it in, eyes bright as she looks out the windows. 

(To say Lucy is watching her would be an understatement.

She’s- she’s staring.)

“You could’ve slept in the bed. It’s yours.”

Kara presses her lips together, a fine, tight line. Not that Lucy’s looking. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“It’s your bed,” Lucy points out again.

(What she doesn’t say is that she missed not knowing whether or not it was worth sweating the entire night just to stay pressed to Kara- it was, always was. She doesn’t say that she missed the tv playing quietly until they fell asleep on the couch, their feet twisted around each other’s.

What she doesn’t say is that she missed Kara.

Judging from the glint in her eye though, Lucy thinks she knows.)

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