formative moment

You know all the Avatars show themselves as pretty young people and then Roku is like “I’M STAYING IN THE OLD GEEZER FORM OF MY FINAL MOMENTS. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY YEARS IT TOOK ME TO GROW THIS RAD WIZARD BEARD??? I AM KEEPING THIS”

“average ancient greek general founded 3 cities named after himself” factoid actualy just statistical error. the median greek general founded 0 cities named after himself. Alexander the Great, who conquered the Achaemenid Persian Empire and founded over 10,000 Alexandrias in his lifetime, was a statistical outlier adn should not have been counted

2

The thing about Barry Bluejeans, though…

He was never much of a character. He barely had any screen time or any development, you know?

But there was this moment on The Adventure Zone Zone….

Griffin was kind of complaining about how many people wanted him to bring Barry back, which he couldn’t understand. He was barely even there! Was it just because he had a fun name? But after a bit of talking, they figured it out. 

Because in Episode 1, when Griffin changed the name of an NPC from Sildar Hallwinter to Barry Bluejeans, that was the moment they realized they could do whatever they wanted with this campaign. They could make up silly names and situations that didn’t have to fit with any pre-conceived notion of “high fantasy.” It was a formative moment where the campaign first started to develop its own identity.

How appropriate that as they were walking out of the Felicity Wilds, they stumbled across a camp the three of them had set over a year ago (in-game time) when they were only just starting to get to know one another. (Or get to know one another again, since they were presumably all Red Robes at one point.) 

That campsite, the return of Barry, the mention of the Goblin camp and Phandalin…all call backs to those first formative moments, just as the campaign is drawing to a close. It honestly makes me feel really really emotional, guys. It’s just so perfect.

For the football fandom: Name one (active) player you wish you could bring back to your favorite club 🤔

Clean

a quick Spencer imagine blatantly inspired by this post by @today-spencer-reid. it’s not Tuesday but I couldn’t stop myself. (edit: apparently I don’t know how calendars work and have been off by a day for the past week?? it’s Tuesday.) didn’t even proofread it and I’m crying so it might be shit but whatever

Spencer has had a god awful day at work. The case they were working finally got wrapped up, but not without the pair of unsubs going for suicide by cop. He’s tired, he’s miserable, and he misses his bed. He wants nothing more than to lie down in it and hold you. So when Garcia calls the team into the conference room as soon as his hand touches the glass doors, his heart falls.

He promised himself he’d spend the day with you. It didn’t exactly work out that way, but he was at least hoping for an evening together. Unbeknownst to you and to the team, today was his nine year anniversary. Nine years clean from dilaudid. He had been telling himself that he wasn’t counting intentionally, that it was just his memory that naturally ticked off days on the calendar. But deep down, he knows it was fully intentional. He’s proud of himself, to be honest. He’d worked hard to get where he is, and he’s in a great place in his life. He’s got his team supporting him, and there’s never any doubt that your arms will be open when he returns home. He’s enjoying life.

Well, he usually is. Getting called right back to work after freedom being so close? Not so enjoyable. Emily trudges out of her office, starting to cover the distance to get to the conference room. In a split second, Reid makes a decision he hopes he won’t regret.

“Hey, Emily? I need to ask for a favor. I’ll explain later.”

-

“Y/N? Hello?” Spencer quietly calls out to the dark apartment you share, finding himself somehow disappointed you don’t seem to be up. He knows it’s late, and he isn’t exactly in the mood for conversation, so his heart sinking so low almost surprises him. But you usually wait up, and he really feels the need to look into your eyes. To tell you he loves you, to hear you say it back.

He drops his bag with a careful thud, prying his shoes off his tired feet. Without hesitation, he heads for the bedroom, already beginning to loosen his tie. Slowly pushing the door open as to not wake you, he stops short when he sees the empty bed. Panic fills his heart, and he bursts into the room, flinging himself into the attached bathroom to see if maybe you’re just brushing your teeth and hadn’t heard him. Another empty space, and a vice grip clenches his heart even tighter. 

Bounding out of the room, he begins to search the entire apartment, flipping on lights and throwing blankets that look as if they could be hiding you. Spencer swears he hears a creaking noise amidst his search that he knows he’s not responsible for and freezes. Nothing but the sound of his heart pounding. He knows he could be overreacting, but his job has taught him to see the worst. He grabs a hefty book to wield as a weapon, but it’s not until he hears a soft yawn that he realizes he won’t be needing it. 

“Spence?” your sleepy voice calls out, and the book falls from Spencer’s hands as he rushes to the source of the sound. Coming into the dimly lit kitchen with such relief and excitement, he almost misses the sight before him.

Almost.

You’re picking your head up off the counter, cheeks starting to flush as you wipe away a bit of drool. You’re sitting in a chair from the dining room you must’ve dragged in here, hair a frizzled mess and pajamas wrinkly. But as much as he loves to see you, especially in your waking up state, he must admit his eyes are drawn elsewhere.

A small cake sits in front of you on the counter, light purple icing unevenly coating it. The nearly illegible words on top read: “Nine years and counting” with a deformed heart at the end. Tears well up in Spencer’s eyes and his knees feel as if they might buckle. As if his heart wasn’t under enough strain already, it picks up an even faster rhythm.

“You remembered,” he breathes, not needing to say more. When he finally peels his eyes back to you, a bittersweet smile graces your face.

“Of course." 

Tears stream down his face, and he doesn’t bother to wipe them away as you pull out two forks. You bring the cake to him, handing him one of the forks and leaning over the cake to kiss his forehead.

"I know a cake isn’t really sufficient, but I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself. You worked hard for this,” you echo his thoughts from earlier, and he sniffles at the beauty of hearing the words out loud. There’s something entirely different about them when they’re in the air. Sure, actions speak louder than words. And yes, by the things you do on any given day, he can tell you’re proud of him. But to have words on your tongue, in his ears, it makes his chest heave with a sob. He knows something so simple as a cake shouldn’t turn him into this much of a mess, but the recognition of his efforts rings out as clear as a bell and it makes his heart sing.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Spencer.”

He still has down days. There are times when his hands itch for a needle. There are times when he slips into a dream and wishes to himself that he may never wake up. But those days aren’t every day, and there was a time when he never believed that was possible. Now, he can see so many possibilities. He’s getting up in the mornings. He’s thriving. He showers, he eats, he laughs, he cries, he saves lives, he holds you, he watches tv. Recovering from addiction makes him feel like his whole world is upside down, like nothing will ever be the same. And nothing is. But it’s so much better.

2

Storytelling is the way we build our identity as human beings. Which memories do we choose to tell when we tell our life story? Which things do we choose as important, how we do connect them to make a meaningful arc? And we choose those. We choose to say whether the barbeque last week was an important event or a parent’s death is a turning point. What are the meaningful formative moments in your story?

Der Mond dagegen ist ein treuer Begleiter.
Er verschwindet nie. Er ist immer da, zuverlässig, schaut herunter, kennt unsere hellen und dunklen Momente, wandelt sich unentwegt, so wie wir. Jeden Tag zeigt er sich in einer anderen Form. Manchmal schwach und schwindend, manchmal kraftvoll und leuchtend. Der Mond versteht, was es heißt, Mensch zu sein.
Unsicher. Allein. Gezeichnet von Kratern der Unvollkommenheit.
—  Ich fürchte mich nicht
Thanks to

-Artists
-Crafters
-Fanfiction writers
-Photographers
-Editors
-Cosplayers
-Voice Actors
-Musicians
-Theorists
-Translators
-People who share other people’s content on their blog
-Reposters who ask for permission and share artwork from other sites
-Heck, also the people who create just simple funny text posts
-Mods running blogs

…of the fandom!
I probably sound cheesy as heck but I seriously want to thank people for creating content and also spreading content by reblogging or liking things and showing your appreciation.
It’s all valuable!

A cat person - Sirius Black x Reader

Request: DAMN I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS! Can I request a Sirius x reader where he finds her as animagus (cat) and become super close and always tries to take her to his room and class and everywhere but like.. she can’t and one day decides to tell him?❤️❤️ 

Yayyy!
Warnings: Um, I don’t really know. My English, not that great?
Image and Gif aren’t mine. Credits to their original owners.
Masterlist

You had finally achieved the transformation.

You had tried for months, followed every step. Of course, nobody knew. You, however,  had guessed that McGonagall was an exception.
You had to keep a leaf of a Mandrake in your mouth for an entire month and you could honestly say that it sucked. You weren’t able to speak or eat properly and even the last person that you talked to was worried that something was wrong. Lily had even insisted for you to visit Madam Pomfrey. But you managed to escape that. She would know instantly.
Another bummer was that you couldn’t choose your animagus form. If you could, you would very much like to be a lion or a tiger or even a cat. You knew that your form would represent your personality and you liked to think that you, just like a cat, can show all the affection in the world if someone had earned it but was independent and very well self-sufficient. And it was cute.
You had read that your animagus form and your Patronus could be the same. There was an exception, though. Your Patronus could change- so it would represent the soul of your significant other. You didn’t know your Patronus yet but you were quite positive that it would reveal your long-time crush on a certain raven-haired, gray-eyed boy. The crush was formed the very moment you laid eyes on him. But you were not that great when it came to actions. You just sat back while he slept with everyone. Literally everyone. But you didn’t do anything. What could you do anyways?
 So, here you were. Your first transformation.
You felt dizzy-like you had been drinking for a while. Kind of light headed. You looked down. Paws? Small paws? You wanted to squeal in happiness and excitement but all you managed to do was meow.
“Aren’t you adorable?”. Wait. What? You stopped walking because two strong hands picked you up, gently. You wanted to tell them to put you back down that instant but again, you just meowed.
He laughed. Oh, no. You knew that sound. You knew that laugh. Just your luck.
“Fiesty. But adorable” he continued, slightly petting your head, his slender fingers going through your fur. You purred before you could stop yourself. You must have been tiny for him to carry you in his palms.
“How did you end up here, alone?” he asked you and you felt the urge to facepalm. You moved your paws in a way that revealed your annoyance. He smiled and you felt yourself melting under his touch. But why was he outside that late?
“You need a name, don’t you?” he said softly. Not that you didn’t like him being there or that you were complaining. You leaned your head to his fingers. That was all it took. His smile dropped.
“Care to listen?” he simply asked you, his voice strained of happiness. You meowed. He remained still for a moment. You nudged him with your head.
“I have to be in my dorm and you are coming with me”. Was he insane? He was talking to a cat. Did he expect an answer? He chuckled.

His friends were fast asleep and you felt really bad for him. He truly needed someone to listen. He plopped down onto his bed, softly placing you onto his lap. You nuzzled him and purred, rubbing your head against his stomach. He was petting you like it was calming him down.
“Alright, tiger. Here is the deal…”Tiger? Really, tiger? He started telling you about his life and his family and even you wouldn’t call those people family; how he was treated and how he reacted. Eventually, he admitted that he wasn’t carefree and that it hurt him when he was disowned because after all, he was their son, their blood and you saw how hard it was for him. He tried to play it off but you just gave him a sympathetic look and bit his fingers playfully. What did I just do?
You spent all night with him-in your animagus form, of course. At some point he fell asleep, his hands still petting you. You felt torn. You wanted to stay but you had to -
To hell with it.
You carefully moved near his head, curled up in a furry ball and fell asleep. You wanted to show him that someone did care.


That had been going on about a month now. You were staying all night with him and once he got out of the room for breakfast you’d run like hellfire was coming your way. Just to make it in time. The last couple of days though, he had tried to carry you to class with him. Something that was impossible. You would miss the class and all of the professors would know that you were an illegal animagus. Neither were things you were looking forward to.
He, however, had managed to do it yesterday.

You were extremely uncomfortable. You hadn’t managed to stop him from carrying you to McGonagall’s class.Out of all of your professors, it had to be the other cat animagus. You knew she knew the moment she saw you. She smiled to herself.
“Mr. Black what on earth are you carrying?” she questioned him but her voice wasn’t stiff. She actually enjoyed it.
“My cat. Meet Tiger. Tiger, meet Minnie” he proudly introduced you. You were thankful that animals don’t blush.
“Your..cat?” she raised an eyebrow in question. Sirius grinned like a mad man.
“I adopted her” he answered, thinking that Minnie would be proud. And she was. But for a different reason. She just gave him a pointed look and walked away.
“I am not sure you want that kind of relationship with her” she whispered under her breath but you heard it.

You walked into his room. A cat. A cat walked into his room. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that all he ever saw was a cat.
You had learned that he was an animagus too- a black dog, which was the biggest irony in the world- as well as Remus’ secret. Not that you didn’t suspect it earlier. His words came as a confirmation.
He was already inside, looking kind of mad.
“You sneaky little Tiger” he said in a mocking way, pointing you-the cat. You furrowed your eyebrows, wait-not yours per say. You waltzed all the way to him, jumped on his bed and made yourself comfortable on his lap. You gave him a puzzled look or at least that was what you were aiming for. You meowed in protest when he removed you from his lap and almost scratched him.
“You haven’t let me impress her! She is never around when you are. Let me take you to her. PLEASE” he exclaimed with a funny look on his face. Oh, no. He wanted to use you to impress a girl?
You abruptly yet gracefully landed on the floor, making your way out. You really wanted to be alone for a second.
“Wait. No! Don’t go, Tiger” he said and a moment later you found yourself halting. He sounded… broken.
“She is never gonna like me. I mean-ugh!”. You weren’t sure if you should scream because ‘she’ wasn’t you or because he was hurt. But you did value his happiness a bit more than yours, so when he picked you up and petted you, you let him.
“Sure-most girls just throw themselves at me but she is not like that. She is this angelic-like creature; she is radiating. The sun doesn’t stand a chance. Her smile… oh, Tiger… her smile” he trailed off. He had that stupid grin on his face.        He looked cute. You would never have guessed that he could fall so much in love. She was one of the luckiest people on earth to have him swept off his feet- and she didn’t even know. He caressed your small head with affection. Something that you could only gain while in this form.
“I wish I could ask her on a date. Even her name is perfect. Have you ever heard a name so… Y/N. I mean it’s flowing like water- Tiger? Tiger!?”. You had lost your balance and fell down to the floor. Then, before you could think what had just happened, three idiots walked in.
“Still in love with Tiger?” James teased him but petted you while giving you a sweet smile. You, however, could only think of his previous words. Did he really say your name? Like you were that ‘she’?
“No, Prongs. That’s Y/N” Peter said, laughing and you knew that if you weren’t already on the floor you would have fallen.
“Man up and ask her out, Pads” Remus advised him. Bless your soul, Moony!
You run out of their room and made a beeline to yours. You could really use a moment.
 Once you were safely inside your dorm, you changed back to your human self! Finally.
You decided to skip tonight’s meeting and actually leave him a bit alone.
He actually liked you. He liked you. You kept repeating that to yourself but it didn’t seem any less impressive. You thought that you must have done something really good to deserve it.

 You were sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast and cheerfully participating in the conversation that your friends had started. Something about boys. Oh, you thought about boys, alright. One in particular.
 You noticed the group walking in and sitting down next to you. James, of course, sat next to his Lily-flower. You chuckled.
 You could tell that he was staring at you and you felt your heart skip several beats. With all the courage you had muster to find for a second, you turned towards him, smiled brightly. He was taken aback. Your smile only grew bigger.
“Good morning Sirius” you said kindly and very amused.
“H-Hi!” he stuttered out. You held back the urge to chuckle. The great Sirius Black. Everyone’s attention was on you.
“I would love to go out with you” you said nonchalantly while you poured some milk into your coffee. You could hear the gasps coming from everyone. Literally everyone. You looked at him like nothing had happened. He was choking on his breath.
“How- Wha-Uh?” he breathed out completely bewildered.
“A little cat told me” you said, sending him a wink. His eyes almost popped out. You laughed. He was so dense.
“You’re an animagus!” he whispered-yelled, causing you to shush him.
“What can I say.? For a dog, you are quite the cat person” you mocked him, continuing your breakfast, but not before you reached and pecked his cheek.
Little did you know, he was left breathless, bright red and smiling like he had won the lottery. Because in his mind, he had.

Reminder to those enraged and engaged in this fight: Activism cannot be your singular focus; you can burn out, you will burn out, and you will burn out F A S T. Don’t feel guilty if you start to feel overwhelmed. Don’t feel guilty if you need to turn off the news, get off social media, or stop talking about the current political climate. It’s exhausting. Take a little time every day to decompress! Do something fun, make sure you have a hobby. Read tarot cards, knit or crochet things to donate, work out, read read read, make art (god, please, make some art, that’s gonna be one of the first things to go). It’s exhausting, fighting for your rights and liberties. It’s not going to stop being exhausting. But if we quit because we can’t keep up, we’re tired, we’re overwhelmed, then they win. And we can’t let them win, because this is just the start. So take a break. A little bit, every day. Treat yourself well and then get right back into the fray. Take care of yourself while fighting for your neighbor who might not be able to.