i need more breaks please

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k

Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

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Things I want to see in Boruto:

Because Orochimaru fans were let down in Naruto on a lot of fronts…
☛ Firstly, I want an actual scene of Orochimaru fighting. From Naruto, all we got was people destroying him, then Oro picking his face up and putting it back together. As impressive as it is that he is literally indestructible, and that all that pain simply rolls off his back and draws out laughter… it doesn’t do much for his reputation being resorted to an immortal punching bag. I want a big fight scene, I want to see all that ninjutsu he has been stashing, learning, obsessing over.

I want to see him blowing shit up, and effortlessly. Show us the legendary Sannin that was famed. Don’t simply make other characters act like he is too powerful for his own good, show us why. Give us some proof. Too often they turn down the power on OP characters to give the heroes some glory… but it ruins good characters and makes them look weak. Sasori comes to mind, I had to read he was powerful, because Sakura took about five episodes tops to undo his existence. Give these guys some props.

☛ While we’re on the power argument… can we see Yamato no Orochi at work? Please? That was one of the mightiest transformation jutsu we have ever seen. Orochimaru quite literally took the form of a huge eight headed serpent larger than Manda. And they let Itachi stomp is out like an insect. I get they wanted to prove who was superior… but some fight time with it would have been nice. This is a second chance to see that.

☛ He’s an ally with the leaf now right? I know a lot of people can’t get over the fact that he may have changed and shifted in character dynamic (So put that aside for now), but I want to see him stepping up to protect Konoha again. Not in a “I care about the village” way. In an arrogant, smug, “do you guys need me again? Let me show off” kind of way. I want something to go horrendously wrong, I want our main cast to be on its knees, and then I want Oro to walk in to the room with his clever smile and just obliterate the threat because he outsmarted the shit out of it.

☛ What the hell happened to him and Kabuto? They didn’t have a fall out really. No one seemed bitter or hurt over anything in the end. Sure, Kabuto felt used or manipulated, and Oro had his powers stolen and misused, but in the end they seemed to come to their own realization that they were both at fault, and yet both not to blame entirely. I wouldn’t mind seeing them team up for something, even if its something medically related.

☛ And Tsunade? This is important. Give us something with these two, let them interact on better terms. They’re on the same side now, that’s pretty huge, it can’t be ignored. Let us see some interaction? 

☛ I’d love to see someone defend Oro, in a battle, some shit like that. Not because they suddenly have a huge change for heart and forgive everything he’s done. That’s not necessary (unless its Naruto himself who runs off the moral compass of forgiveness), but in the line of “you’re an ally now. We protect our own no matter our personal feelings”. And I want it to be a kinda eye opener for Oro? I don’t want to see him falling off the immortal cliff and acting all kindhearted afterwards. I just want a 2 second clip of him watching the person who saved/helped him with an “that’s interesting” expression. And maybe show subtle signs of him being more cooperative after the incident.

☛ His sons, give me lovely interactions with him and his sons. Do something that just reminds us (as he said in the manga), he created Log and Mitsuki admittedly because he caved in to the human desire of having children. I want to see Mitsuki waking up from the hospital and seeing his parent hovering about because he came through to see if his child was okay. Show me Oro giving his son a forehead kiss, giving MItsuki some sound advice, wishing him luck on his exams- being a parent.

☛ And most importantly. LET HIM DEVELOP ON SCREEN. We never got much of him, because in the beginning he was the main villain, and the show tried to keep him a mystery. Then when he lost status of main villain he was forgotten/ignored and then killed off. None of that. The mystery is dead. We know enough for him to be revoked of mystery status, but not enough for him to developed accordingly in the show. 

The only parts of mystery I want are related to the fact that neither us nor other characters should ever know how his mind “works”. Because it is so off from the norm. I don’t mind having to question him, but some development and some insight would be great thank you.

Don’t let me down Boruto.

I’ve been thinking for a while and I felt the need to make a quick little PSA for people who participate in fandoms and idolize artists and such–

I’ve noticed over the past 2 years certain people who have others practically throwing themselves at their feet when they’re not… good people. 

I just want to say that yes, you can like someone’s work, but please try not to get caught up in the idea that being a fan of theirs or trying to appeal to them will accomplish something for you on a deeper or wider level. I guess that’s how I can word it?
If you see someone doing horrible things, treating people badly, generally having a shit attitude… and just–the stances they take on serious subjects? Just because they’re someone with followers doesn’t make them right. It doesn’t mean you have to settle and agree with them, especially if it conflicts with your morality.

Just please be cautious when participating in fandoms, because the last thing I want to see more of is bad behavior being rewarded because fans feel that they have to feel that way rather than standing up against something blatantly wrong.
Your voice does matter, even if you feel like it doesn’t.

Adding onto this–I know I’m not the best person in the entire world. I know I have my own issues and my brain works in a way that I approach things that other people think is outlandish or weird. 
I don’t want any of you here if it means that you feel like you have to be here–I want you here because you’re comfortable being here, it’s why I try my hardest to both be inclusive and considerate with the subjects I speak about on this blog.

In simple terms: I’m not an extremist SJW but I AM an SJW at heart, and stars forbid I want people to feel validated and want to treat them as equals and have them feel comfortable and safe in my space.

(Also, that feeling when you have to explain that last bit because people will just hate you for being a coughSJWcough because of the horrible stigma surrounding the shitty ones. It’s why I put extremist in there, because extremist ANYTHINGS are bad news no matter what the cause is.)



I’ve seen the hug a hundred times already from promos but now I’m just, these are my boys, these brothers are everything!



dil proposes! (about time, tbh)


[…]Then came the day. We were in the garden. I told him of the novella I had just finished reading. “About the knight who doesn’t know whether to speak or die. You told me already.” Obviously I had mentioned it and forgotten. 
“Well, does he or doesn’t he?”
“Better to speak, she said. But she’s on her guard. She sensen a trap somewhere.”
“So does he speak?”[…]

anonymous asked:

English Toy Spaniel? Sorry if you've already done this one. Also, if you want, Chihuahuas!

OMG internet says this is the King Charles rebranded???? i have done those, and the chi’s both as well (verdict: GREAT!!!!!) but OMG take a closer look at that face:


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO this is too flat and droopy. you can only choose one. flat OR droopy. NOT BOTH!!!

dreams-of-feysand  asked:

It's Nothing and/or Stepping Up for Rowaelin, pls!

It’s Nothing was the most requested prompt, and since this lovely user specified what ship, i answered this one!

No more prompts please! I just needed a little break from my other story, but thank you all for taking the time to ask!

Btw, a little different from a SickFic, more of a HurtFic!

Pain lashed through Aelin Galathynius’s calf, and for a moment, she thought an arrow had struck her. Then she looked down.

Nothing. There was nothing wrong, asides from the black blood of the Valg covering every inch of her.


He was hurt.

Panicked, she looked around the crumbling courtyard of the little manor house. Where was Rowan?

She swore as the distraction nearly cost her an arm as a Valg swung for her. She dodged it easily and plunged Goldryn into its spine. It gave an unearthly howl of pain and then it was dead. Aelin looked around again. She must’ve just had the last one.

The twins and Aedion were checking the corpses, making sure each one was dead, and Lysandra sat with Elide and Lorcan in ghost leopard form, purring as Elide scratched her neck, but…

“Rowan!” she called.

Both Rowan and Gavriel were missing.

Aelin sheathed her sword and gave a firm tug on that glimmering bond that bound her to Rowan. There was a moment of nothing, then, Aelin, I’m fine—

Aelin swore as she saw Rowan limp up from behind Lorcan and Elide, a wound evident on his calf.

Aedion said something, but she didn’t hear it as she sprinted towards her mate.

Her injured mate.

Both panic and anger rose in her chest, but Aelin shoved them down. “What happened,” she said as she finally neared,

He was walking. He was fine just a large gash on his… leg.

A wave of nausea wrapped around Aelin’s insides at the sight. She didn’t know why. She’d seen and given much worse injuries.

Rowan didn’t even glance down, he just met her eyes briefly. “I’m fine, Aelin, one of those bastards got a little too close with a broadsword,” he looked her over. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, breathless.

Rowan scanned her again and offered her his hand, which she took without hesitation. He stopped walking and turned towards her, cupping her face with one hand. “I’m fine, Fireheart. It’s nothing.”

Aelin leaned into his touch. “It’s hard,” she admitted. Rowan nodded, “I know. It is for me too.”

Aelin still felt shaken twenty minutes later when she had finally— finally— sat down besides Rowan inside the ruins of the building. They’d come in to make sure nothing nasty had decided to stick around in the house, but after a few minutes, she had ordered Rowan to sit down and rest his leg. He hadn’t protested.

Aelin reached into the pack she’d carried in and grabbed the clean bandage and tin of antiseptic balm. He didn’t say anything when she rolled up his pant leg and began to ever so gently dab the strong-smelling balm on the gash. Rowan winced, and Aelin mumbled an apology.

“Aelin,” he said after another minute of silence.

She didn’t look up from her work, pausing only to grab the cotton bandages.

“Aelin, love, look at me.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, she didn’t know why.

Rowan leaned forward and cupped her face with his warm hands. “Aelin, I am fine. It will heal. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Aelin swiped at her eyes angrily. “I don’t know why I’m being so,” she unrolled the bandage, “gods-damn emotional, Rowan. It’s the mate bond, I think. I felt when you got wounded and…”

She met his pine colored eyes. “It scared me, Rowan.”

“It’s not bad to be scared, Aelin. Especially if you’re scared for the ones you love.”

Aelin sighed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled against her, and reached to tug her forward, but Aelin pulled away.

“I’ll kiss you, Prince,” she ran a hand up his calf, “When I’m done.”

He rolled his eyes, “It really is nothing.”

She just shook her head and wrapped the bandage slowly.

Rowan rotated his foot slowly, “Thank you.”

She hummed and began crawling into his lap. When she had settled, Aelin tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her and began tracing invisible patterns on her back. She breathed him in, and placed a soft kiss onto his neck. “How long,” he drawled, “do you think we have until they come looking for us?”

Aelin shrugged and raised her head. “I don’t care,” she said roughly. Then she kissed him. And despite the overwhelming shit that was going on around them, Aelin felt as though she had found peace. The two of them together equated in peace.


Pairing: Merlin x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 769

Merlin had always been a man who liked his privacy. He had made it a rule that the two of you would be professionals and not do anything too extravagant at work. A touch here, a hand held there, maybe even a quick snog was acceptable. But for some reason he just couldn’t help himself today and broke his own rule.

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If I Could Fly//5//What Happens Here, Stays Here

Originally posted by henrycavillorg

A/N: lol ok so I am back guys. Hope you all enjoyed this last piece and after this one I shall be posting some Hiddles soon as I have just finished writing the first part! I hope you all saw my banners for upcoming Fassbender and Evans stories, if not they can be found on my masterlist linked below. This is smut so consider yourself warned.


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anonymous asked:

domestic au with nanami/mikan?? pleaaase ill love u forever; -;

No matter how much I crave validation, I’m not taking these AU anymore, sorry. Same for the people who sent me prompts these last few hours. I feel a little guilty but I’m never going to escape the AU hell if I don’t put a stop somewhere.

All the cartoons I’ve seen

Reblog/Like if you post any of the following (I especially need more of those in bold on my dash)

Adventure Time

Gravity Falls

Steven Universe

We bare bears

Bee and Puppycat

Bob’s Burgers

Rick And Morty

Bojack Horseman

The Amazing World Of Gumball

Over The Garden Wall

Star Vs The Forces Of Evil

Miraculous Ladybug

Regular Show

And I need to see:

Phineas and Ferb

Bravest Warriors

Milo Murphy’s Law

For The New Year 1981

I have a small grain of hope—
one small crystal that gleams
clear colors out of transparency.

I need more.

I break off a fragment
to send you.

Please take
this grain of a grain of hope
so that mine won’t shrink.

Please share your fragment
so that yours will grow.

Only so, by division,
will hope increase,

like a clump of irises, which will cease to flower
unless you distribute
the clustered roots, unlikely source—
clumsy and earth-covered—
of grace.

-Denise Levertov