getting past your past

anonymous asked:

Do have any Klance parenting headcanons?

“Hunk Pidge McClain, you were named after two of my best friends, who were with me from the very beginning. And also because your dad wouldn’t let me name you Megatron, because he likes to suck the fun out of everything.”


A fruit frenzy

I read a fic once that Harry and pansy were friends and they would call each other ‘pots and pans’. I can’t remember which fic it’s from but imagine jealous Draco thinking it’s unfair that his best friend and boyfriend get along so well.

anonymous asked:

(1/3) ALLY!! Okay, i wanna write down a list of things that i really like about you just cuz. 1) your hair, it's such a soft brown and your highlights bring compliment it so well, 2) your eyes, they're the prettiest shape and they're so warm, 3) your smile, which is brighter than my ideal future, 4) your height, which is so petite and melts my heart, 5) your accent, which reminds me of home, 6) the way you draw eyes, which is just so unique to me, 7) the red tones of your art ofc

Keep reading

I try really hard to just sort through the submissions and keep my mouth shut so that this blog will be about tattoo imagery and only tattoo imagery because I know that’s why you’re all following it. And I’d rather just be that silent entity working behind the scenes; it’s less work for me. But, y’all, there is a limit to the amount of poorly-drawn, hypersexualized, racist nonsense I can put up with in one submission without my head exploding, and some of y’all are pushing it today. Please stop this.

Ok, I’m going to back to what I was doing.. Thanks for your time.

Raise your hand if you were also a Problematic Egg™

We all started somewhere, and many of us had severely toxic & transphobic feelings towards ourselves. We may have had extremely narrow definitions of what it meant to be trans (”Well to be trans I have to fit this narrative, so I guess I’m just broken.”) which led us to internalize our feelings or fetishize gender variance, or even have been gatekeepers towards trans questioning people. 

But this is behind you. 

You can’t change who you were and what you’ve done, and it’s up to you on how you confront your old self, but the key is moving forward and getting better. Always remember that your past doesn’t define who you choose to be in the future. As long as you learn to accept and forgive yourself, loving yourself will soon follow.

You are trans, and you are valid.

Perks of Dating a Necromancer

(because I had this conversation with my friend and I feel like I should post this here)

1. Skeleton War will be an actual thing.

2. Your pet is dead? Not for long!

3. Receiving creepily adorable Valentine’s Day presents (eg. “Human blood is red, but some of their veins are blue. Last year I gave you my heart, so this year I’ll give you two.”)

4. Death puns.

5. You’ll be totally safe during a zombie apocalypse thanks to “Control Undead”

6. You’re dating someone who is totally capable of creating an invincible army of undead. I mean, come on.


8. They’re great if you need to hide a body.

9. Skeleton puns.

10. They’re massive help if you’re struggling with biology..

11. They can fix that poor little dead bird you found yesterday at the park.

12. “‘Till death do us part” no longer applies.

13. Neither does ‘YOLO’

14. They usually dress in black, so if you like that too, you can steal their clothes if you want. (oversized hoodies that smell a little like death, but only a little ftw)

15. They can make a few skeletons/zombies do a wide variety of silly dances to cheer you up.

16. Halloween.

17. They may tell you what happens after death.

18. Hearing them do an impression of Frankenstein when raising the dead. (”IT’S ALIIIIIIIIIIIVE”)

19. You know the skeleton rave from the music video of “Hey Girls, Hey Boys” by Chemical Brothers? Yeah.

20. Watching horror movies together and hearing them complain about how such-and-such is a wrong way to raise the dead, and anyway that’s not how the human skeleton works etc. etc.

21. “Are you a graveyard? Because I’m dead inside and want to bury myself in you.”

22. The whole ‘skulls, bones and old books’ aesthetic

23. Want to meet J.R.R Tolkien? Terry Pratchett? Christopher Lee? No problem!

24. The same as above, but with family members.

25. Hearing random facts about the human body/bones/life/death etc. everyday.

26. They can probably bring back extinct animals as long as they have the skeletons (I think)

27. “Jurassic Park: Skeleton Edition”. Only the dinosaurs aren’t trying to kill you.

28. Quiet walks through the graveyards.

29. Throwing a mini zombie apocalypse on Halloween and/or April Fools.

30. Since they stay among the dead for so long, they usually appreciate any living creature staying close to them. (ie. extremely adorable cuddling sessions. Necromancers make the best cuddlers, shut up.)

  • Guy: hey what's your number?
  • Me: 24601
  • Guy:
  • Me: I'm a wanted criminal
  • Me: I stole some bread once
  • Me: I wouldn't get involved it's really not worth it, you'd be dealing with like at least another 8 musical numbers
  • Sakuya: I have a crush on Mahiru.
  • Kuro: And…?
  • Sakuya: Guess what he replied when I texted him about it.
  • Kuro: what?
  • Sakuya: “LMFAO”
Samurai Jack's first human kill

Mark your calendars (March 18 2017) as the day thee Samurai Jack, noble and honorable samurai, killed his first human. We knew it would happen eventually but this was something I needed to sit down for. Due to the circumstances of the situation it was completely reasonable but it’s just so unbelievable. I mean this is Jack and I don’t remember if he ever killed a human before but I do know that this is something that will now add more on to the ongoing list of things he has to deal with. Good luck jack

The War We Lost


Kyla rubbed at her wrists, the raw skin still aching from the constant removal and application of the “standard issue” force cuffs. It felt wrong to look down at the dark fabric when all she had worn in… years… was the plain gray fabric that was given to all criminals. Certainly she deserved more than the threadbare garments they had given her originally, but seeing her old armor– clothes that were tailored to every inch of her body –felt surreal. Her stomach clenched and unclenched around the idea that maybe her lover had not died. It was still never good to hope. Hope got people killed.

Mental note: All of this is surreal.

After a few minutes, Kyla was working the gloves over her fingertips and trying not to think about all that she had done in them: making the choice to destroy Hosnian Prime, killing Han Solo… at the same time, the supple leather had seen celebrations and victories alike. As well as the kiss of her lover’s breath at the end of their too long days.

Three years had passed, though it felt like seconds and simultaneously centuries.

Observation: Three years, seven months, a week, and four days.
Clarification: Calculations are unnecessary. It’s been a long time.

“It will be a simple mission, Ren, nothing to worry about. Go planetside, pick up the cargo, and come back.” The General had spared her a soft, lingering touch, one of those touches that warmed every inch of the knight’s body, and it said so much more than those simple words.

The rest… the rest is history.

Kyla was captured by a rogue group of resistance shoulders. Despite all her strength, all her power, there was no escape from them, and, oh, did she bleed for the Order before it fell to the surface of some abandoned planet. Kyla had watched the Finalizer fall out of the sky, thinking of nothing more than protocol, Hux would have been amused-maybe even truly happy.

But the General of any First Order Flagship would know to evacuate all high ranking personnel except themselves.

Mental note: She hated Hux for strictly following protocol.

Coming back to this moment, Kyla shoved her hands into the leather gloves. She had given in to the belief that Hux was…

That didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Reflection: Did it ever?

When they landed on Aren VII and all but threw her off the shuttle onto the icy ground she couldn’t have been happier. “Find the General and the council will remove the death sentence that you have. We’ll give you whatever you need, Br-Kyla. Just show them you can be cooperative.”

Finding Hux wouldn’t be hard. Convincing the General to go back to prison would be another matter entirely.

As she trekked through the seemingly endless snowfall, that feeling only got stronger. After hours of walking through the blizzard, Kyla finally felt like she was getting somewhere; she even felt like she was getting close. It was only by luck that the wind blew a bit lighter and she saw a pillar of smoke coming out of the ground. Dropping into the small igloo, Kyla walked over to the lump of what looked suspiciously like Wampa fur and pulled it aside slowly. Despite everything else in her life that had gone horribly wrong, she had going the ginger. Without thinking, she noisily dropped her helmet and cupped the general’s cheek. “Hux, wake up.” Her heart pounded as she felt the chill beneath her armor and Hux was in so much less.

Situation analysis: Hux was alive. She could care less about how happy the ginger was to see her or what state she had to drag her home in.