i have to make silly names for things

anonymous asked:

I'm not on Tumblr but have been seeing stuff about Gillian that has ended up being posted to Twitter. It is all so out of hand. Fans calling her names, these fans are supposedly grown women? Also if people should put yours or other bloggers names who are public, into google search, it brings up allsorts. At the end of the day it looks embarrassing to the people posting rather than Gillian. Is it really worth making yourselves look so silly/aggressive over something so trivial? Best wishes.

Thank you very much Anon. 

Some of the things that have been published on twitter, among other things, my tumblr name, were things that were said in a private chat and not open in any forum. It is thus a violation of privacy that has occurred. The words were written in a private room in a private chat, for not publicly writing things you may regret in the heat of battle. There were discussions and frustrations that were shared privately. I stand by the things I write and do not think I have anything to be embarrassing about.

Like everyone else, I’m entitled to my own opinion. I think it’s more embarrassing that adult women can not have their own meaning/opinion and are completely blown away by what other people do and say and thus can not personally find their own meaning/ opinion. I think it’s decidedly embarrassing that one might think it’s okay to exhibit your girlfriend’s (or what’s) pussy and publicly touch her in that way. It’s actually completely beyond my understanding that many may think it’s okay and not degrading. In addition to be so blue-eyed, to think its wrong that paps have taken pictures somewhere where it is widely known that paps go to and further not understanding that a hotel would be sued and lose their customer base if images were taken without people knowing about it, with regard to the customer base the hotel is targeted. Unless it is one of those hotels where it is generally known to go to and “invite” paps to document things or get pictures in magazines and media. This has everything to do with life experience, general knowledge and the understanding of the world, and not least understanding how staging, branding and self-promotion function and is working. 

I think it’s sad that people take this whole farce with GA so easy, I work daily with young girls (among others) who need good role models. It seems sad that an otherwise good role model like GA can go against everything she stands for and to such a degree loses herself, for example, in relation to being feminist. That’s sad.

I’m trying to express myself in a proper way, but it can of course go wrong. We are all human. But at the end I stand by everything I’ve said, maybe because I’m an adult educated woman with life experience.

Dear non-natives

The Plains warbonnet is not a Cherokee thing. It is not a Navajo thing. It is not an Indian thing. It is a Plains thing.

Stop calling every silly thing you draw that even vaguely resembles a native “Cherokee” or “Navajo” or “Aztec.”

Stop drawing the warbonnet everywhere as the apparently definitive native thing. It isn’t part of all of our 600+ cultures.

Same goes for the tipi, not part of every one of the 600+ indigenous cultures.

Stop thinking that if a native person doesn’t have dark, “mahogany” skin, that their heritage is invalid. Even without admixture, we actually do have varying skin tones.

Stop wearing crappy fake warbonnets.

Stop wearing redface.

Stop using us as your silly mascots. We are people.

Stop saying “spirit animal.” It’s derived from a New Age bastardization of a something that actually exists in some of our cultures.

Don’t smudge. Cleanse all you like, that’s fine, but don’t smudge.

Don’t call us “Indians.” “Native American” isn’t great either, it is not our name, but it’s slightly better than “Indian.” “Indigenous” is also fine.

Don’t use NDN/ndn. That is ours.

Step off about our hair. If you meet a long-haired native, admire it if you like, maybe even ask them about it (RESPECTFULLY), but do not touch. The same applies for someone with short hair, but additionally for those with short hair, don’t say things like “oh you’d look more native/Indian/etc if your hair was long.” We didn’t all traditionally have long, flowing hair. Believe it or not, there are actually different haircuts existing in our various cultures, and aside from that ultimately it’s a personal choice, one does not need to have long hair if they don’t want to. Doesn’t make them any less native to have short hair.

Don’t pray to our spirits/gods/energies. Native spiritualities are closed, they are not for outsiders.

Don’t say “The Native Americans believed…” Firstly, the past tense is silly, we still exist and do things. Secondly, we are NOT A MONOLITH. As I mentioned before, there are upwards of 600 different Native American cultures.

Don’t ask about someone’s “Indian name.” That’s not only insensitive, the name you are referring to in that instance is something sacred, and might not be something that person wants to share with you.

Don’t call yourself silly crap like “howling wolf” or “flying eagle.” That’s also racist and insensitive.

Regardless of whatever you might think you’re doing, or what your intentions may be, if a native person tells you that what you’re doing is disrespectful, STOP DOING IT.

You aren’t honoring us. You’re just mocking us further, demonstrating your continued ability to treat us like shit and get away with it even now, centuries after our colonization began. Your feelings are not more important than our history and survival.

To those doing your best as allies, thank you, keep doing what you do. HOWEVER, don’t let opportunities to educate others escape you. By letting them continue to be ignorant, you are failing. Spread the message.

There will be no “please.” It’s been more than 500 years, and we still are made to be invisible in our homelands. Still we are treated like less. Some even think we all died long ago.

We are still here

We will still be here

Treat us with respect.

Hidden Self Spread by intuitive-witch

**I created this spread as part of @thespiritedtarotchallenge and, for the purposes of the contest, I follow from my main blog @mainly-intuitive.

This week’s prompt is moonshine. I would have loved to have made a little moonshine cocktail while I worked on this spread, but, tragically, I do not like moonshine. I say tragically because I’m from the deep South and it’s practically a way of life here. Whenever I think about this alcohol, the first thing that comes to mind is the clandestine production in sheds and basements of moonshine during prohibition. So, I decided to create a spread about the secret and hidden parts of ourselves. You can use this spread to get a better understanding and acceptance of your hidden self. 

1. Your Dark Side - These are your qualities that you may perceive as bad or undesirable. You may even feel ashamed of these parts of yourself, so you attempt to hide them from others. The first step to self-improvement and self-acceptance is to acknowledge the parts that you may want to work on.

2. Your Hidden Dreams - This card shows the seemingly far-fetched fantasies you may have. It could be that dream job, dream relationship, dream whatever that you may be embarrassed to tell others about or think you’ll never be able to achieve. I do want to add that while this is a fairly common reaction, you shouldn’t have to feel silly for your dreams and desires :)

3. Your Deepest Secrets - This represents the experiences, memories, actions, feelings, etc that you don’t tell anyone, or very few people, about. This card can also explore why you feel the need to keep those things secret.

4. Your Greatest Fears - What things make your skin crawl? What outcome or event do you dread more than anything? This card may help you understand the things you fear, and why you fear them.

Now that you’ve put a name to all of these parts of yourself, what you do with the information is up to you. Is it time to make a change, take a chance, and/or let someone in? It’s all up to you. I hope you enjoy this spread, kind reader! 

I am currently very tired so this probably might not even make sense in the morning but… 

I’m imagining a D&D minigame (probably lasts 1-2 hours tops unless you’re having fun with it) meant to break the ice for new groups, in which the DM controls an adventuring party and the players control NPCs as they naturally pop up. Specifically, it could help new players get comfortable with roleplaying without the pressure of sticking to a character they just made. If you do this before the character creation stage, then even better because they may stumble into a character they like acting out.

Rules that I’m just rambling out please forgive me if they are nonsensical: 

  • It’s all improv. Don’t break a scene to look up game mechanics like prices, or which checks to make, or what would give advantage/disadvantage. This is about the acting so if it’ll throw off the groove, make it up on the spot. It’s all about quick thinking.
  • No modifiers. You’re all making things up on the spot so if you have to roll something, don’t waste time justifying who would have what stats. You could even go without dice altogether. The d20 is just an optional element of chance here.
  • Mandatory introductions. I don’t care how goofy it is. state your name, race, class/occupation, a random character trait, and how their day’s been going up until this point. As many as you can off the top of your head. Go nuts because things get silly before they get really creative, in my experience. Note: Character voices are encouraged. For funsies.
  • Everyone participates in a scene. No pressure on how much they interact, but in each new setting, every player has to put one NPC in that tavern, shopping square, riot crowd, etc.
  • Plot not needed. The adventuring party strategically wanders in a way that builds a town/city/etc as the players make it up. The DM isn’t in charge of telling a story here, just keeping the energy of the improv scene going. This includes-
  • Leading Questions. This one’s the challenge for you, DM who likely already has a control complex and likes to plan out every detail of everything in their world because it gives them a sense of security. If anything, you are the one who most needs to be good at rolling with whatever your players hand you. For the sole purposes of making you uncomfortable, the newcomer adventuring party knows absolutely nothing about this town. Thankfully, the citizens know everything about it. Which is good because you need directions to find your way out of your rented hovel room let alone to the temple–oh that’s right. Who’s the patron there? You sure don’t know! Better ask someone! Get that DMs?? YOU KNOW NOTHING. 
    • Important: If the scene starts slowing down, it’s up to you to either encourage and interact with these townsfolk some more, or get moving somewhere else.

Example scene: order of NPC choice is determined by an initiative roll. 

DM: “Alright, so four adventurers walk into the tavern you’re in–”
Player 1: “Oh! I call the bartender.”
Player 3: “Aw… I had a bit I was gonna do.”
Player 1: “Okay, okay fine, I’m the owner of the tavern, Marcus McMuffin the half orc–stop laughing–and uh… I have a tattoo of a dwarf lover that literally no one else knows about? And my day’s been…hm. It’s been awful because I got stood up for a meeting. DM, I basically live in here, so I’d know they’re new, right? I wanna know if these guys look like trouble makers.”
DM: “The Barbarian’s flexing at anyone who looks in his general direction but other than him fancying a typical bar brawl, they seem decent–if lost.”
Player 2: “I’m the elven bard in the corner and I start trying to seduce the Barbarian with my beautiful voice!!”
DM: “Listen… you can’t just use your character from the last game. Cherry the Elven Bard would’ve totally seduced the barbarian but who are you now?… Nah it’s fine, dude. Take your time. We’ll come back to you.”
Player 3: “I’m the crazy old village drunkard who’s a human named Steve–”
Player 1: “I thought you said you wanted the bartender!”
Player 3: “–Who samples a lot of the wares and is thus the village drunkard! I said I was doing a bit, jeez! DM, I start rambling loudly at the strangers about something that sounds like one of those super infuriating sidequests–you know the kind–where you have to go through a lot of bullshit busywork and the longest fetch quest of your life but there’s a promise of GREAT loot at the end so you consider it anyway. You know what I mean? What do I do for that, roll deception? Persuasion?”
DM: “Nope. No rolls. Personally, I am so on board with this but I need you to make this speech right here and I need you to sell it.” 
Player 3: “Oh boy.”

If for some reason you want to try this please give me a rundown of how it went because I feel like it’s the perfect recipe for hilarious trainwrecks that come with all good icebreakers. (I feel like it’d be a fun drinking game somehow? But I don’t play enough to know how to work alcohol in in a reasonable manner. I’ll leave that one up to house rules.)

Taverns & Tanneries, never coming to a game store near you lmao

Edit: I just realized that when the group starts playing a real campaign, you can embarrass them by working their goofily-named NPCs in, keeping an entirely straight face while doing so. Watch as they squirm and laugh-cry over having to discuss the fate of the world with Marcus McMuf’an. If only they’d known. 

If only they’d known what was to become of Marcus McMuffin.

hogwarts house girl gangs (x)

slytherin; they loan out their makeup, show up to every game in support of each other, force each other to study furiously for exams. they fuss a lot about whose stuff goes where, and teach each other neat tricks with their hair or useful charms.they stay in their dorms during every other hogsmeade trip to throw tiny parties, ungodly amount of inside jokes

hufflepuff; they buy each other surprise sweets from honeydukes, put supportive notes in each others bags and textbooks like ‘dont forget to smile’ and ‘youll do great today’. they throw really big celebrations for birthdays and will spend an entire night studying if one of them isnt getting a subject well enough. they give each other flowers and cute little ‘it reminded me of you’ gifts.

gryffindor; they cover for each other constantly and have such a  ‘i am spartacus’ thing going, braid each others hair and do each others make up almost every morning, sleep in each others bed sometimes, share clothes religiously, constant compliments and teasing, piggy back rides in the halls

ravenclaw; they loan out the same book and all add little sticky notes with their reaction to a part for the next reader, when study sessions get dull they start singing songs together in silly voices, lots of hugging and hand holding, they have a really healthy competition going, use pet names a lot

Promising Futures ((Cedric x Reader))

summary: cedric is ridiculously romantic and y/n is ridiculously surprised. 

request: Could I request something that’s not a prompt? :) cuz I would loveeee to read a Cedric x reader where he proposes to her during the tournament. :9 and then there’s a nice lil AU where he lives and they get married!

warnings: SPOILER warning for The Goblet of Fire, slight swearing

pairing: cedric x reader

prompt(s): none

a/n: i’m sorry post layouts are such a mess right now i’m kind of experimenting at the moment, so if you see any that you like or that bother you let me know

also i had to go back to the book and read the specific pages for this one so i felt very professional

but i love cedric so much and i’m honestly very glad you requested this so thank you. 


 “We’ll take it at the same time. It’s still a Hogwarts victory. We’ll tie for it.”

Cedric stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms. 

“You– you sure?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Yeah… we’ve helped each other out, haven’t we? We both got here. Let’s just take it together.”

For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn’t believe ears; then his face split into a grin

He grabbed Harry’s arm below the shoulder and helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they both held a hand over one of the cup’s gleaming handles.

“On three, right?” said Harry. “One–two–three–”

- J.K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, pg. 634

“My God– Diggory!” it whispered. “Dumbledore–he’s dead!”

Those words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them…and then others shouted it–screeched it–into the night-”He’s dead!” “He’s dead!” “Cedric Diggory! Dead!”

- J.K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, pg.671

You feel all of the air force its way out of your lungs, and before you know what you’re doing, you feel your legs push your way across the terrain and through the crowd, not even apologizing to the people you bump into along the way- though they certainly bother to scold you for it. You just had to see it. You had to see Cedric… 

Sitting up? You freeze when you see him, and feel your mouth drop open at your clearly perfectly okay boyfriend. He’s gazing around from his spot on the ground, a rather frantic look on his face, completely ignoring the various hands reaching out to him. 

You’re not completely sure how or when you got from where you were to where he is, but you throw your arms around him, pressing your face into his very real and very alive shoulder. You don’t even remember when you started crying, but you feel his arms pull you closer, holding onto you with the same desperation that could be found in your actions. 

“Oh god! Oh god Cedric, they were saying that you were dead.” you tell him, running a hand through his matted hair. “Why would they do that? Why would they ever do that?”

“I was.I thought I was. I think he missed.Or maybe he wasn’t powerful enough, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.” he wipes your tears away, pulling you back to him. “I’m so so glad I’m holding you right now.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about, but frankly you don’t care at the moment, so you just nod in agreement. “Me too. I love you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

You can feel his smile, and then his mouth brushed against your ear. “Marry me.”

You freeze. “What?”

Marry me.” he repeats again, his voice just above a whisper.

You pull back so that you can look into his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I faced bloody Voldemort. And all I could see was your face. And your hand. I couldn’t believe that I was stupid enough to die without placing a ring on that finger. So, Y/N Y/L/N, yes I’m serious. Marry me. Marry me.” he shifts you out of his lap so that he can get onto one knee, and the voices around you– everything around you- stops, as the crowd stops trying to get to you. You can’t help but glance at Cedric’s parents, who stop dead in their tracks, their mouths open. “Don’t look there. Look here.” he urges, grabbing your wrist to get your attention. “I haven’t exactly asked you yet. Kind of just commanded, actually. So, Y/N Y/N, will you marry me?” He searches your eyes, seeming to loose a bit of confidence as his voice cracks in his next word. “Please?” 

“Cedric… You’re in shock. You don’t mean it. I mean, you can’t mean it. We’re… You’re… You almost just died and now you have some condition that I can’t currently remember the name of, but really you don’t mean it, and you’re going to regret it the moment this wears off, and-”

“I don’t have some condition, Y/N.” he looks at your solemnly, though there’s a hint of laughter in his eyes. “I mean it. I swear I mean it, and nothing that I ever feel could make me regret asking you this. Because I love you. Everything other than love is just silly, Y/N, and I don’t care about it anymore. All I care about it you. I want to be with you forever. The only thing almost dying has done is given me the confidence to ask you something I’ve wanted to for a long time. So will you please marry me, Y/N? Or at least reject me before my parents have an aneurysm?”

“Oh. Oh wow. Of course I’m not going to say no to that. Who could possibly say no to that?” There’s a moment of silence before you realize that you haven’t actually said “yes” yet. “Yes.” you breathe out. And then he’s up and twirling you around, and the crowd is cheering. Then, glancing around, you remember what was going on. “I think maybe you have some explaining to do.”

 that summer –

“Do you, Cedric Diggory, take Y/N Y/L/N, to be your lawfully wedded wife,to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and promise your love to her forevermore?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the smile on his face. His eye meet yours, and you can feel the warmth from them inside your heart as he squeezes your hand. “I do.”

“And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Cedric Diggory, to be your lawfully wedded husband,to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, and promise your love to him forevermore?”

You almost giggle at the anticipation in his eyes, wondering if he actually expected that you’d say no. “I do.” 

He grins, surging forward to kiss you before anything else can be said, though no one makes a move to stop you as his lips touch yours. You peck his lips lightly, pulling away quickly, flushing at the idea of kissing him in front of an entire crowd. 

“Mrs. Diggory.” he murmurs, winking at you, before focusing his attention back to the crowd. 

i feel like the book excerpts were a little confusing, so i’m sorry, i just didn’t know how else to convey time well, i guess? my transitioning sucks lol.

but…….. i hope you liked it because it was really fun to write. *editing soon*

gif isn’t mine

masterlist | requests | prompts  

Nursery News- Derek Hale

Originally posted by hoechlder

Request// Oh! For the Derek as a dad week You could do one where Derek knows you’re pregnant (like you smell different from the pregnancy hormones or something) and he surprises you by making a nursery and that’s how you find out you’re pregnant with his kid? - @lillimay99

*What a fun way to kick off the week! Thank you guys for all the request and I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. xoxo*

Derek and you had promised to keep no secrets from one another since the beginning of your relationship, but this would be the only exception. It would only be for a short period of time and the “consequences” are something he’s wanted for years now: you were pregnant with his child.

He had a sneaking suspicion for the past two weeks, but it wasn’t until today that he was sure. It all started when your smell was different than normal. Usually, you’d smell like a mix of apples and his own smell, but now he could smell a hormone that he knew but couldn’t put a finger on (now, he knew it was the same scent his mother had when she was pregnant with Cora). It didn’t make sense until he heard another heartbeat. The first couple nights, he thought it had been an intruder in the house and would search around the house on high alert. He had never smiled brighter than when he realized the heartbeat was coming right from your stomach while you slept.

The big question was how was he going to tell you that you were carrying his child? An opportunity like this wasn’t something a man usually got. After running his hands through your hair while you slept under the rising sun, he finally got an idea. The perfect idea.

Keep reading

a moment's hesitation

Zombie apocalypse AU anyone?


‘Fuck, fuck, FUCK! I-’

The man gently closed the heavy door, spinning Mo Guan Shan around by the shoulder and slamming him against the wall, covering his mouth with a filthy hand.

‘If you do not shut the fuck up, we are both going to die.’

Mo Guan Shan blinked at him in shock, planning to shove him off, but thinking better of it when a rustling noise outside made them both jump.

The man’s hand flew to gun at his hip as he looked through the grimy windows covered with haphazardly placed boards.

Half a minute passed in silence, neither one of them daring to so much as breathe.

The man stepped back, holding a finger to his lips and dragging Mo Guan Shan along by the wrist.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to their surroundings.

They were in a church.

The windows were boarded up, the floor was littered with papers, discarded clothing, and various food wrappers.

He held his tongue until the older man found a room he apparently deemed safe, closing them in and locking the door.

‘Check the windows.’

Seeing no point in arguing, Mo Guan Shan made sure both small windows were locked.

The streets were empty.

Dozens of cars sat abandoned on the main road.

‘What’s happening?’ He asked quietly.

‘What do you think? Based on what you’ve seen, what do you think, doctor?’

The explanation ‘I’m a nurse’ died in his throat.

‘People were sick…’

The man watched him with tired eyes as he tried to find the words.


He’d been in the break room, seven hours into his shift, when he’d heard screaming.

He lurched to his feet, bursting into the hall, there were half a dozen patients, several he’d checked the vitals on not half an hour before, shambling down the hall.

The screaming that had come from the head nurse had turned to a strained, gurgling moan where she lie under the patient from 3c.

3c had been in a coma, entirely unresponsive for nearly a month.

Blood pooled around his knees as he leaned over her, teeth sunk into the flesh of her neck.

He didn’t realize he’d screamed until several of the other patients on his floor snapped their heads around to stare at him, dead eyed.

A moment’s hesitation.

Maybe this was a dream.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fallen asleep in the middle of a split shift.

The reasonable part of him, the part that knew there was no way these people could possibly be awake, had him at a dead run down the hall, down the stairs, and out of the building.

He checked his watch.

Roughly two hours of daylight left.

It was unnervingly quiet.

There wasn’t a soul as far as he could see.

It had been a nice day, so he’d walked to work.
Two miles.

What a fucking idiot.

Having no plan, he set off home.

He’d figure it out when he got there.

He fished his phone from his pocket, getting his Mom’s, Dad’s, and friends’ voicemail.


He looked back to the hospital.

A few patients had stumbled from the building, scanning the area just as he had.


This time, without hesitation, he ran.

Had he spent less time studying, and more time watching horror movies, he would have known better.

Doubting his balance, he didn’t dare look back, but knew he was being followed.

And they there were closing in.

After a few minutes, he ducked into an alleyway.

He wasn’t in bad shape, but he could only run so far.

He heard the footsteps stop several feet away.

He was going to die, wasn’t he?

A door opened a few feet to the left and he was yanked inside.


The man stood patiently, waiting for him to catch up.

‘What are they?’

‘You know what they are. This isn’t a movie, they’re not getting a special name.’


‘The dead coming back to life. Eating people. What are those called?’

Mo Guan Shan shook his head.




‘With our collective career experience, it’s safe to say that many impossible things have happened, in the last few years alone.’

He couldn’t argue with that.

He studied the man for a moment.

Clad in military fatigues, eyes hard, face worn and scarred.

‘They’re zombies, aren’t they?’

The man looked away, nodding slowly.

‘It certainly looks that way.’

‘And the military hasn’t given them some silly name yet? To make us civilians feel better?’

The man laughed bitterly.

‘At the moment, the only military i’m aware of is me, and the only civilian is you.’

‘What happened?’

He inhaled deeply.

‘I was at the base. They attacked. I got out. My men didn’t.’

It seemed wrong to press the subject, so Mo Guan Shan simply nodded.

‘So what now…’

‘Captain He.’

Mo Guan Shan fought the intense urge to roll his eyes at the formality under these circumstances.

‘Ok, what now, captain?’

Where’s My Love - Stiles Stilinski

listen to the song here ( I REALLY RECOMMEND THIS ONE GUYZ )

Cold bones

Yeah that’s my love

She hides away like a ghost

“You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!” You sing songed, running all over the Stilinski’s back yard.

Your families were neighbors, and both you and Stiles were six, so you played together every day.  It was a fast and easy friendship to make.

“No fair! You’re faster than me!” The boy with messy hair panted.  You giggled, spinning around, your pigtails flying.  

“Come on Mitchy!”

“I said I wanna be Stiles!” You shook your head, running over to him and jumping onto his back.  He caught you with ease, and began running around again.  It was amazing how much energy kids could have.

“Well everyone else can call you Stiles, because I’m the only one who gets to know your real name” You said cheekily.

“Okay! It’ll be a special thing.  I’ll call you… uh… y/n/n!” You giggled at the silliness and nodded.

“Okay deal!” You agreed.

Ooh, does she know that we bleed the same?

Don’t wanna cry but I break that way

“It’s an emergency Stiles!” You whined through your bedroom door.  He stood in the hall on the other side.

“Is it? Because last time you told me something was an emergency, you were distracting me and you took my best pokemon card and my Mets hat!” he said back.  

“Please” You begged.

“Ugh” You heard him stomp his foot on the floor.  “Fine.  But only because somehow your puppy eyes work through the door” He said, and opened it.  “I don’t know how you-” Stiles stopped when he saw you, jaw dropping open at the sight.

Tonight was your first school dance, you were seventh graders.  It was low key, but still a milestone.  And… you’d never dressed up before.  Not even a skirt.  SO when Stiles saw you in a cream colored dress with a simple brown belt, his eyes had noticeably widened.

“Oh my god is it that bad?” Tears welled in your eyes and Stiles quickly shook his head, crossing his room to you.

“No no, it’s great, it’s um, it’s pretty” He’d never said anything that made him feel so awkward.  But he was telling the truth.  In fact he wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful, but he didn’t want to cross a line.  You looked down at your outfit unsurely, a few tears slipping from your eyes.  “No don’t cry y/n, don’t cry” He walked behind you, and zipped up the last two  inches, because you couldn’t reach it and gave up.  “I mean it you look really pretty, like, princess pretty”

“Thanks Mitchy” You mumbled, finally glancing up and taking in his button down and nice pants.  He even had a tie.  You smiled and grabbed onto his hand.  “Come on, be my prince charming for the night”

God his heart was like thunder in his chest.

Cold sheets, but where’s my love?

I am searching high, I’m searching low

In the night ooh

He was lying in bed, trying not to cry, if he was being honest.  But every time he looked over, there was that picture frame of him and y/n at the carnival.  A selfie he’d taken when they got to the top of the ferris wheel.  She had her arms wrapped loosely around his neck.  Her cheek was resting on his shoulder, his Mets cap on her head and his scarf tied around her neck.  She was smiling big at the camera.  He knew that she had the same frame next to her bed as well, but he also knew she wasn’t looking at it right now.

No, at this moment she was out on a date with Jackson Whittemore.  Yeah.  Jackass Whittemore of all people.  Stiles had been trying to come to terms of it, they were halfway through sophomore year and he’d asked her out the third week of school.  Stiles was there, and he just sat and watched her giddy answer of a yes.

He groaned, rolling over in bed, and slamming his pillow on top of the back of his head.  He begged for suffocation.

Five minutes later there was knocking on his door.

“Go away Dad, I’m not in the mood” More knocks.  Stiles groaned and got up, crossing the room and whipping it open.  “Dad I said-” He froze upon seeing you.  Quickly he wiped his face to hide that he’d been crying earlier.  Not very manly to cry.

“Your Dad let me in” You whispered.  He stepped aside, and you slowly walked into his room.

“I thought that uh.. I thought tonight you-”

“Jackson was fucking with Makayla” You said bluntly, but quietly as you pretended to admire the little things on his desk.  Though you’d been there millions of times before.  Stiles sat on the end of his bed, your back to him.

“He did?” He all but growled out.

“Don’t go picking a fight” You scolded immediately.  “But yep” You popped the p.  “Screwing her since we’ve been dating, probably still is” You shrugged, and walked around to the other side of the room.  Your eyes landed on his bedside table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, picking up the familiar picture frame.  You smiled at it, letting your fingers run over the glass gently.  You missed those days.  Stiles flopped back on the bed, and you walked back towards the door, turning off the lights and shutting the door..  “Are you going home?” Stiles asked.  You shrugged your jacket off, shaking your head again.  You kicked off your shoes, and made a pile of them and your coat by the door.  He watched as you crawled into his bed.

“I wanna stay here” You said, and your voice cracked.  Stiles reached out for you instantly, pulling you against him and cradling you.

“I’m so sorry y/n” He whispered as you cried silently into his shirt.

“I thought I loved him” You admitted, and a pang of hurt tapped into his heart.  “I guess I really am that typical teenage girl” You whispered.

“No… no y/n you’re so much more than that” He told you.  “You’re beautiful, and smart, and you’re going to achieve so much in your life, and Jackson will whither away with his herpes and probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere- not that Scott and I will have anything to do with that” You laughed quietly into his shirt, and it made Stiles smile.

“Well… maybe Scott can use some werewolf powers and give him a little scare…” You said, and Stiles laughed.  A few minutes of silence passed.  Stiles hand both arms wound around you, and you had your hands pressed against his chest, head resting on top of them.

“y/n I care so much about you… more than you know” He told you.  You didn’t respond.  “y/n?” No response.  The softest of snores left your lips, and Stiles bit the inside of his cheek.

Maybe the universe was telling him that you weren’t meant to know the truth.

I’ve got a fear

Oh in my blood

She was carried up

Into the clouds

High above ooh

You were giggling when your arms shot out for the small trash bucket, and you began hacking into it.

“Shh… Shh” He cooed, rubbing your back, and readjusting the blanket he had previously wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry I’m not much fun for movie night tonight” You sniffled.

So far your junior year was going alright.  It had just started, and there was no supernatural dilemma, and you and Stiles were back to being strong again.  Maybe… maybe too strong? Lately every time the boy looked at you or touched you, your heart would flutter and you knew what that meant.  But it confused you.  Stiles was your best friend, you couldn’t fall for him.  

Could you?

“It’s okay, we don’t have to watch anything y/n you’ve been sick all week maybe you should lay down”

“No I don’t want to get in your bed then you’ll get sick”

“Trust me you’ve already gotten me sick I’m sure” He replied, turning on the space heater and dragging it over to where you sat on the floor. He’d moved all the furniture in the living room out of the way so you could just be under a mountain of blankets and watched movies.  It had gone great for the first fifteen minutes, but then you puked into the popcorn bowl.

“I’m sorry Stiles, I’m ruining your night” You frowned, and warmed your freezing hands up by the heater.  He shook his head, smiling softly and taking your hands between his, rubbing them together to generate more heat.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you’re here” You buried yourself more in the blanket so he couldn’t see your blush.  “And you’re not dying.  That’s what would ruin movie night.  But it’s just the flu” Stiles chuckled. “You want something to drink maybe? Orange juice? Hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate sounds nice” You said with a big sweet smile that asked him silently to go make it for you.  He nodded, and stood up, ruffling your hair before heading into the kitchen.  The second h was gone, you whipped out your phone.


To y/n: shit i knew you were in love with him.  Alli owes me twenty and Kye owes me ten

If you bleed I’ll bleed the same

If you’re scared, I’m on my way

A shit storm of pain had come to you in a hurricane of long tan legs, and eight years experience of being a coyote.

It had been two months since you lost Allison, a girl you’d grown to become quite close with, almost as close as Lydia.  Lydia being your closest girl friend.  So when she died, you mourned just as much as the rest of them.  Stiles had seen you cry, but never that much.  He’d comforted you every second of the day for a solid three weeks.  You often spent the night wrapped up in his arms and blankets, sobbing as he cooed soft things to you and stroked your hair.

And it was time.  You knew it was time.  It was time for you to take control of your feelings, and tell him how you really felt.  That every second you’re around him, you want it to last forever.  That every time he spoke, you wanted to reach across the table and kiss him.  That when you rode next to him in the Jeep, you wanted to take his hand and intertwine your fingers together.  That every time he touched you, sparks ignited and danced along your skin.  That every time he looked at you, you just wanted to scream I love you.

You’d never power walked so quickly through the school hall.  As soon as Scott told you that he’d seen Stiles go into the chem lab, you’d spun around and made your way to the classroom.  It was the end of the day, every other student in the building was walking out towards the parking lot, eager to get home.  But not you.

You were a girl on a mission.  You neared the door, and quickly pulled out your phone to check your makeup.  Flawless, you heard Lydia say in your head.  Hell, you were even so confident that you winked at your reflection.  This.  Was.  It.

You smiled big and opened the door.

If you could go back in time, and change one thing, this would be it.  Because walking in on Stiles and Malia making out in the empty classroom, crushed everything you had left in you.  It took your happiness, your confidence, your dignity.  You felt utterly stupid.

Just as Stiles had caught your eye, you turned away and legitimately ran through the halls, suddenly you felt like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

Mission aborted.

Did you run away, did you run away

I don’t need to know

But if you ran away

If you ran away come back home

“Hey y/n, it’s Stiles again.  I’m not really sure if you’re ignoring me or not, I’ve called you twelve times now, but if you are please call me back I want to fix it… uh… I’ll see you later and I hope you’re alright” You closed your eyes tight, not wanting to hear these voicemails anymore.

You shut off your phone, tossing it onto your bed.

Two days ago, you walked in on Malia kissing the fuck out of Stiles.  She had her hands in his hair, hell, you could see her tongue.

Your eyes closed again, and you rubbed away your tears with the palms of your hands.  You hadn’t been back to school since it happened.  How could you? Show your face after complete shame? Not to mention how devastated you felt.  Even a little betrayed.  Lydia had pushed you to confess to Stiles, she’d told you that she saw the way he looked at you, that friends didn’t look at each other like that.

I guess I was too late, you thought to yourself.  You were always too late.

You woke up to your doorbell ringing, followed by pounding on your front door.  You groaned, knowing you were the only person in the house to answer.  The rain was dumping outside, and it was actually helping you get to sleep.  Which was now ruined thanks to whoever your visitor was.  You pulled on a jacket over your tee shirt and jeans, and padded down the stairs.  You checked the clock on the way.

“Who’s coming here at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night?” You mumbled to yourself.  Then opened the door.

“Tell me why you’re ignoring” You almost gasped aloud when Stiles spoke the second the door opened.

“I don’t know wha-”

“Don’t bullshit me y/n tell me right now why you’re ignoring me” His hair was so soaked it hung over his face.  His clothes stuck to him, and you could see his pained expression.  He’d been crying.

“Stiles I-I can’t”

“You have a mouth and you’re clearly able to speak, so you very well can, tell me”

“No Stiles, I can’t”

“Why the hell not? What happened y/n? Why do you hate me?”

“Hate you!?” You screamed, and shoved him on his shoulders, taking him by surprise, as he stumbled backwards.  You stepped outside towards him.  “You think I’m ignoring you because I hate you!?” You punched the sides of your fists against his chest.  “You fucking idiot I’m ignoring you because I fucking love you and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it!” You continued to attack him.  “Lydia told me oh no y/n, the way he looks at you and blah blah all that shit! And so after weeks I muster the courage to go tell you and what do I find Stiels!? You! Making out with- with Malia!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, getting soaked under the downpour.  He snatchde your wrists so you’d stop hitting him.

“Oh so you think it’s that fucking easy!?” Stiles yelled back, and you silenced yourself.  “I didn’t even have the slightest amount of bravery to just waltz up to you and tell you I was fucking in love with you! You know what happened that day y/n? In the lab!?” you didn’t say anything, just stood staring at him, silent tears rushing down your pink cheeks.  “Malia kissed me, and I pushed her off because I was in love with you”

“Key word was” You muttered under your breath.  Stiles grabbed your chin roughly between his forefinger and chin.  Forcing you too look up at him.  His eyes were so intense, you wanted to look away but you couldn’t.

“Am” He emphasized.  “I am in love with you, and you don’t get to say shit because I have been since we were six” Your chest rose and fell quickly, desperate to catch a full breath.  It was silent for a good four seconds.  Four seconds of starting at each other with such passion that it was too much.

How do you fix unresolved passion?

You both jumped forward, your lips colliding in a kiss that made you see stars behind your eyes.  Stiles’ hands were cupped around your cheeks, and yours ran up into his wet hair.  Everything was wet and you wanted to cry tears of joy, tears of relief.

“I love you” He breathed.

“I love you too” You responded, and wrapped your arms around his neck.  You hugged each other tight, standing outside in the rain, but not caring to move.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you in the rain” Stiles mumbled.  “Kinda romantic”

“I was thinking sexy” You mused.  He hummed.

“Well then let’s go inside”

And when you nodded, it was the first time Stiles was ever faster than you.

Just come home

Things for Littles to do for their CG

- Color them pictures
- Send them cute pictures of yourself
- Share your candy with them (Let them have one of the good ones)
- Give them your stuffie to hold when they’re feeling sad
- Snuggle them
- Make them lunch or dinner (Easy things like sandwiches and stuff!)
- Let them have some of your nuggets
- Tell them you love them
- Sit in their lap and hug them
- Make them a drawing! (You two together, their favorite animal, etc.)
- Give them kissies
- Try not to pout too much
- Don’t try and escape bedtime. It never works
- Clean up your toys when you’re finished with them
- Don’t splash in the water during bath time
- Try to follow your rules as best as you can
- Tell them when you’re sad or not feeling good so they can take care of you! It’s their job!
- Behave when you’re in public
- Take care of them when they’re sick! Get them blankies and soup! (Just don’t burn yourself!)
- Tell them why you love them
- Call them silly names
- Let them watch their favorite shows sometimes
- Be your adorable self
- Surprise them with drawings or other things you made for them!
- Cheer them up when they’ve had a long day at work
- Cuddle with them at bed time
- Send them sweet texts while they’re at work for them to read while they’re on their break. (It’ll make them smile, I promise)
- Ask for their help with big kid stuff
- Reassure them that they’re a good caregiver and they do a good job of taking care of you even when they’re having a bad day.
- Remind them how much you love them when they have bad days. ESPECIALLY when they have bad days.
- Let them take care of you
- Love them always

Calling All Trans* Friends! [UPDATED]

Hello! My name is Lucas, and I’m a student at West Liberty University in West Virginia. I’m a Graphic Design major, and I’ve been asked to create an exhibition of my own art centered around how my life as a college student is affected by my status as a transgender individual.

I’m calling this exhibition “I Am Not A Sob Story”, and it’s going to be a look at how I, personally, perceive my life and how certain things affect me as a transgender person - and to do it, I’d like your help!

On top of several other installations I have planned, one of the bigger pieces I’d like to create is a collage centered around other transgender individuals, with primary focus on trans* college students.

So what am I asking from you? Simple! All I need is the following:

  • A selfie
    • I’d like for the selfie to show your entire face, be it a headshot, full body, whatever - as long as it’s you and you can be clearly seen, we’re good!
    • It can have filters/stickers/etc., but again, please try and have the majority of your face visible!
    • It doesn’t have to be serious - this exhibition is going to be pretty lighthearted, so if you want, get goofy with it!
  • For you to finish the following phrase with your own words:
    • “I am not ______. I am _______.”
    • Pick whatever words you want, but try and make it in relation to being transgender, misconceptions about transgenderism, things you’ve heard, etc.
    • Again, it can be serious, it can be silly, it can be however you want it to be! Make it you!
    • Some examples, if you’re stuck:
      • “I am not just a trend. I am permanent.”
      • “I am not a butch lesbian. I am a man.”
      • “I am not a stereotype. I am me.”
  • Optional extras: name, age, state you live in (for stat purposes). You don’t have to give this information if you’re not comfortable, but I’ll be creating a bit of a stat sheet in relation to the overall piece, so if you’re comfortable with sharing, please do!

And that’s it!

So who can submit? I’d like for submissions to be from people 16+ (please keep them SFW though!), and while I’m not looking exclusively for transgender college students, I highly encourage anyone in college to submit- but again, anyone 16+ will be accepted! And yes, anyone who identifies under the trans* umbrella is welcome - men, women, nonbinary individuals, you’re all welcome here!

All submissions will be posted and archived on this blog unless you specifically ask me to refrain from posting your submission on this blog (which I will do! Just gotta include that when you submit!)

I’ll be accepting submissions on this blog until roughly November 2017 (I’ll give a more solid end date when I figure one out, lmao).

The ask box will be open, so if you have any questions about the project, if any of the guidelines were unclear, or anything else, feel free to ask!

Thank you, and I hope you can help a young art major out!

~ Lucas

P.S. please reblog this to help spread the word! :)

on the topic of dan and phil moving

can we get a ditl in ikea?? please??? i want to see phil making silly little puns using the swedish furniture names and dan looking done at the camera yet cracking up seconds later ? i want to see dan and phil arguing about what carpet to put in the lounge that will match the floor..,, i want to be grossed out by the domesticness yet still loving every seconds of it??? pls ????

When you have an idea and can’t stop

I made a Fan ‘Subscribe and Punch’ fighter! I hope you like it @cheapcookiez   (*´ω`*)

Click or tap the image for the not blurry version (gdi Tumblr). The design is based off of myself.

I created a character profile and mechanics for their abilities. I would appreciate if anyone who does game mechanic design would take a look and give me some feedback. (๑•̀ㅁ•́๑)✧ ALL CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK IS WELCOME!!

I absolutely love creating mechanics but I can’t make games myself, just the art. And I can write a butt-tonne about it. (ㆁωㆁ*)

Character Profile (below the read more)

Keep reading


A/N: Okay so, I can’t remember who requested this. So here ya go, some Connor fluff!!!!!!! I personally didn’t like this, but I’m posting because a few friends said it’s good. Thing is, I haven’t written in a long LONG time - well, not in english -, so I fear my writing might be a bit rusty and the style might differ from the first half of the fic. Plus, I want to say that this fic is silly. Very silly. Anyways, as I said prior, our next boy might be JayJay aka Jacob. There’s a request for Altaïr and La Volpe regarding this AU; also one for the name of your soulmate written on your wrist. I might do this one with either Arno or Ezio? I’m kinda leaning more towards Arno tbh *Arno sucker*

Special thanks to @miss-t0mboy for being so lovely as to offering herself as my beta reader!

Your name: submit What is this?

You idly watched the market, mostly sailors carrying crates moving hurriedly in front of your family stand, sighing in defeat. There were people, yes; but not even near to the most busy hours. It was early, way too early to be on your feet — but your dad explained, more than once, that today was the day scheduled for mercantile ships to come back to the Boston harbor and unload whatever it was that they carried. It was a busy day, a day for trades, you kept reminding yourself…

But what you didn’t understand was the necessity your dad felt to be the first to arrive at the market. “The early bird catches the worm”, your mother had said.

Yeah, sure. But what if the bird was so early the worms weren’t even up yet?

You stifled a yawn, placing more apples on the wooden stand, hoping to catch everybody’s attention — not because your family stand was one of the three or four within working hours, but because the quality of your products had to stand out. Your mother talked in a chirpy voice, luring customers in as the morning carried on rather slowly. You smiled dreamily, eyeing the sailors curiously when they passed by.

You were anticipating. Your mark itched every time you thought about it, about the possibility of meeting your soulmate. Most of your friends had found their partners — even Catelyn, that unbearable girl with the upturned nose to everything and everyone around her. Was destiny playing with you? You had heard tales about others who hadn’t been able to find their soul mates, or missed the chance… what if you were to become one of them?

Sighing, you thought it was just foolish. There was no you way you weren’t going to notice it. Those words had long found a place in your mind, marking your heart and refused to leave, even late into the night when you couldn’t sleep; despite their… oddness.

“Sweetheart” your dad called for you, interrupting your thoughts, voice slightly out of breath “can you help me with these?” he pointed to the crates still inside the battered wooden cart.

Your dad was an easy man to smile to — so you did, sighing softly afterwards. “Right away.”

You went towards the cart, groaning in pain as your dad passed you a wooden crate filled to the brim with carrots. God, he was giving you the carrots! “I feel like you always give me the heaviest ones, father” you joked, turning around to fill the stand once more.

“You know me so well, Y/N” he said humorously at you.

You walked awkwardly towards the main street — it’d be easier to fill the stand from there —, legs wobbly and eyes unable to see much more than carrots and the top of people’s heads. You groaned under the weight of it and right before you reached the front stand a sailor passed by you, pushing your shoulder rather briskly to make way — and that was enough to make you lose balance.

Not wanting to fall down and stain your clothes because honestly, Boston’s filth was so damn hard to scrub off of anything, you let go of the crate and watched as it unceremoniously dropped to the floor.

And now this, you thought rather bitterly, kneeling and doing your best not to stain the light color of the gown, you tried to gather the spilt vegetables — your mother was too busy selling to a woman who looked like a maid. She gave you a pointed look, as if asking if you were alright and you waved a hand back at her from your position.

I believe you dropped a few carrots” a soft voice came from behind and your head shot up “Do you need help?”


You whipped your head back, eyeing the man from toes to head and spit out the first thing that came into your head.

Wow, you’re big.”

The man was, indeed big, but you hardly doubted that this was a polite thing to say to someone offering help. The next thing you noticed was the slightly darker tone of his skin — a native, in Boston? — and the way he folded his hands in front of his body. He had shoulder-length dark hair, the upper half of it tied back and big brown eyes — that now were wide. 

His attire was nothing like you’ve ever seen before, a mixing between the usual native clothing you were able to identify by the tales of travelers and something else you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. The stranger frowned, and you noticed he had freckles, casting his eyes downwards to his wrist and then back to your face as a sheepish smile appeared in your lips.

“I— my apologies, but—“ the man stuttered as you got up in a hurry, doing your best to beat the dust off of your apron.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” you chirped, nearly knocking the native down, ignoring the looks from a few passerbies, the excitement taking over you before the decency and common sense called you donw “I do… believe you’ve said my words, sir, but… They’re awfully simple, you see, so I just want to make sure that…” God, you’ve waited for this moment for so long that you never wondered how things would go once they’ve actually said it.

“Yes, I… believed you have said mine as well, I—“ he blushed, clearly flustered at his lack of words. “Can you tell me your name?”

anonymous asked:

re: divided classes! I know! And by classing some skills as 'male' or 'female' they're creating a gender bias in their fields! Say *kunoichi* learn flower arranging (poisons) and music for seduction/infiltration purposes, but hello! The ...Ino... family? owns flower shops. Men can run shops, same as women. It's easier for civilian men to be travelling musicians. What if there was an amazing singer/prodigal musician who just so happened to be boy-shaped? So he's going to be left to work on 1/4

possibly creating a career-long alterego that could start off performing in bars, but eventually work his way up *naturally* to performing in noble courts and houses and *years* of verifiable evidence to prove he’s a ‘real’ person? There’s a massive loss of potential right there. And then, of course, you have actual seduction: gay people, straight people, bi-, pan-, asexual but wants pretty people to sing/perform/cuddle with them, aromantics who just want hot sex. Teach everyone how to seduce *everyone* and all the necessary skills. So you can have a kunoichi playing a butch lesbian/transman who knows lots of traditionally male skills and passes as a man most often in order to assassinate someone who prefers dating/having sex with crossdressing transmen. (i.e. a man in a dress). Frankly, I *know* that gender segregation wasn’t a thing during the clan wars because there were clans competing for money, so they *couldn’t* have afforded to waste money (jobs) by teaching only-female and only-male things. Maybe there was some civilian backlash at first when they were trying to get civvies to settle in Konoha and the school compromised by labelling them shinobi/kunoichi classes and it was *meant* to be just a name (i.e. traditionally female skills v. traditionally male ones), but it rapidly came to mean only girls could go to those classes and vice versa? Because civilian council? Or just more silly wordbuilding by Kishi?

God I love all of these ideas, and it makes so much sense in context. I would definitely put it down to shitty worldbuilding, because doing it this way would be sensible

Okay but no one talks about “The Pants Song” and I think it’s time that someone gives it the love it deserves?? Btw thanks @miichael-mell for listening to me scream about this song

It honestly has a lot of good lines that are often over looked because of the song’s silly name and nature.

Like I honestly get really sad when Michael says, “But I’m not what he wants.” Because after all of their time together, it’s like… he believes that Jeremy doesn’t need him in his life and is choosing to block him out. It’s one thing to have a computer physically restraining you, but after that Jeremy CHOOSES to keep the optic nerve blocking on and whether Michael knew that or not, he sees he isn’t wanted anymore after all of their time together and that makes me sad

Then there’s the next line from Jeremy’s dad saying, “But you’re just what he needs.” And he is absolutely right. not just for the physical things he provides like mountain dew red, but for the emotional support that Jeremy gets from him. It’s pretty clear in More Than Survive that like… literally no one really wants to talk to him at all but do you hear the way he’s just like “MICHAEL!” In that song?? He’s so happy to see him and whether you ship boyf riends or not (but let’s be real who doesn’t) he is absolutely THRILLED to see him. His mood just picks up immediately.

I also love love love love the line “if I’m going to try harder to be his friend, you have to try harder to be his dad” because Michael is like I want to help you and my friend, but you have to help him to and he’s like looking out for Jeremy in the long run and wants him not just safe at this moment, but feeling happy in the future and hopefully with a more active father

There’s also just the idea of “putting your pants on”. Yeah, it’s Jeremy’s dad saying I’M GOING TO PUT ON PANTS FOR YOU. It’s like also just putting the best version of yourself forward and I always just like… it’s so nice??

I have a lot of feelings about this song and I think it deserves more recognition

“Do I want kids?”

For @carryon-countdown: Moms. 


I’d like to just have one, I think.

One child will be enough, because it will be

my child.

They’ll have a silly middle name, like Scrum

or Snow.

You should always have a funny middle name,

it makes life more funny.

I’ll take them to the gardens, and they will

love the rosebuds as much as I do.

I will raise them to make the world a better place,

to fight for what is right.

I will teach them to dance, laugh,

and not take life too seriously.

They will have my hair and Davy’s nose and

they will never feel like they don’t belong.


Not as long as I am alive.


I never do things by halves.

I want at least five, and I want them now.

Martin doesn’t know it yet, but we will be

the best parents.

I will teach them to stand up for themselves,

they will be the most powerful thinkers.

They’ll chase after knowledge, and 

look out for their own.

Lucy’s child will be silly, I’m sure, so

my children will need to look after him.

I’ll have a theme, as far as names go.

It’s orderly that way.

I’ll name them all after cities, or perhaps 

they’ll have names that all start with P.


That sounds just perfect.


I will not have children as soon as I graduate.

I have things to do,

I have a school to run.

I have all the time in the world.


when I do,

I will do anything to keep them safe.

They will have Malcolm’s composure and my strength.

I will feel fire in my child’s magic.

Our heritage will be in the brown of their skin,

the line of their nose.

They will be a Pitch, through and through.

And, if I am not there to see them grow,

I hope they will find someone

to hang the moon for them.

I hope they will

carry on

carry on

carry on.