i'll write it someday

Mom Adopts a “Dog”

So y’all keep blowing up my notes with the various Family Lore stories I’ve been telling, so I guess I should tell one on my parents now.

My Mother’s Father was part of the United Auto Worker’s Union, and during the 50′s and 60′s, was on strike a lot. My point is, grandpa got himself an entirely deserved reputation for being a sucker who loved animals, so people would dump thier pets on him. Hence, my mother grew up in a house with pets such as Picket the one-eyed tomcat, Tweety the Bald canary, Dummy the cat, Stupid Son of Dummy, Spooky Garbage Dog and Chiquita the Tarantula.  Eventually Grandma put her foot down when Grandpa brought home Gerta the Saint Bernard.

I say all this because it provides some context for how the following occured.

Mom and Dad had just moved in together (my parents dated for six years and were engaged for 13 days, driving everyone on both sides insane), and unfortunately, My mother’s German Shepherd, Cops, has just passed away due to bone cancer.  After mourning for a bit, Mom and Dad decided to get a dog together, as a couple.  

For context, my father had never owned a dog in his life.  His mother had ‘Pretty Bird” the budgie as a child but parrots are alien life forms, not pets.

So they go to the Palo Alto Animal shelter to adopt.  The year was 1987, and at the time, Palo Alto was… not a great place.  Lots of drugs, gangs and poor civic managment.  Mom told me that she learned to identify different types of gunfire while living there. They get there, and mom explains that she’s always had a preference for Big Dogs, and the guy’s face lights up.  Oh Yes, he says, We have a Big Dog.  For expirienced owners, yep, adoptable today, here we’ll give you a discount even-

Somehow my parents were not suspicious about this.

They were shown to the Animal in question, a Gorgeous blue-sable beastie with pretty golden eyes who immediately pressed herself against the fence and gave them the best PUH-LEEEEEEASE TAKE ME HOME puppy eyes 100lbs of canine can do.  Mom and Dad fall in love instantly.  They sign all the paperwork and take her home for $10, and name her “Mazel” as in “Mazel Tov.”

Within the hour, it becomes clear that something is amiss.

Cops had lived with his kibble stored in a plastic garbage can in the garage for six years without incident.  Mazel figured out how to open doors and got the locking lid off the can in six minutes, horking down about four pounds of the stuff before my mother notices that it’s been weirdly quiet.  Most dogs bark at or chase squirrels.  Mazel stalked and caught one the second day, presenting it to my mother like an offering.  Mazel knew all her commands but would clearly stop to consider before obeying, and trained my dad to give her good treats within a week.  The locks on the side-yard gate were undone, and she took a stroll around the neighborhood, but always retuned home for dinner.

After a week of gradually realizing that Mazel was smarter than most of the professors my mom worked with, they took her to the Vet for a routine checkup.

Dr. Hamada walked into the exam room, dropped the clip-board and said “Where the HELL did you get a Wolf?”

After a bit of prodding and a very-angry-dr.hamada-calling-the-pound, they determined Mazel was a high-content hybrid, probably with a husky, but was going to be a lil shit her entire life.  OK, said Hamada, I don’t like destroying animals and you’ve got a lot of expirience with dogs, so I’m okay with letting you keep her, but you should keep her away from small children because her Prey Drive could kick in.

Two years later, mom got pregnant with me.

Mazel noticed instantly, and reacted by digging a large hole in the yard and catching even more squirrels for mom, because she needed the protein or something.  That what you do when the Alpha Bitch is preggers, right?  Dig a den and ply her with food?  On the advice of my grandmother, my mom stayed overnight at the hospital once I was delivered, and dad went home with a shirt that had moms and my scent on it.  Mazel spent the whole night puzzling over it.

The next morning, when mom came home with me, there was the sudden and instantaneous recognition of PUPPY!!!!!! :D:D:D!!!!! PUUUUUUUPPY!!!!!!  and Mazel turned into the most aggressively maternal being I’ve ever met.  Playing with me on the blanket, sitting under my chair at meals (I was a messy eater), sleeping under my crib, teaching me to walk by letting me hang onto her fur and shuffle around.

Dr. Hamada thought mom was a madwoman, until he saw me holding Mazel’s mouth open and sticking my face in so i could look at her teeth.  He gave up when my mom announced she was pregnant with my sister.

I’m making living with a Wolfdog sound awesome, but it did come with some drawbacks:

  • Mazel did have to be muzzled at the vets, because she had Opinions about having things stuck up her butt.
  • HAIR.  One of my chores growing up was to brush her out every week and I’d frequently end up with more hair than animal.
  • the only way we could reliably get her to stay in the yard was with an overhead tether with a STEEL cable, which she chewed through anyway.
  • Do you like waking up by being hit in the face with half a dead animal? No? Wolfdogs may not be for you.
  • More than capable of opening the fridge and eating everything if you’re not watching
  • Will get into everything if not otherwise occupied.  Including eating your tax forms.
  • Howls along with sirens at 4 AM.

PROS of growing up with a wolfdog, as a small child in the 90′s

  • I was afforded a degree of freedom normally associated with a pokemon trianer. It was no big deal for me and my sister to walk three miles through my not-really-good neighborhood to the Froyo if I took Mazel with us. People tended to leave us alone when we had 100lbs of overprotective Apex Predator following us around.
  • WINNING at Pet Day at school.  There wasn’t actually a compettion but Billy’s hamster sucks in comparison to an animal that is perfectly willing to demonstrate how she can snap an oak branch in half on command.
  • PTA moms losing their shit because Mazel would walk down the block by herself to come pick ups up from school.
  • Grew up associating the word “Bitch” with teeth and the willingness to rip an asshole’s face off for being rude.  Never changed the definition.
  • Learned the I-Own-This Strut and Murder-Stare from the absolute best.

When she was 17, Mom and Dad decided to add another room on to the house.  They rigged up the overhead tether so she could be outside but not underfoot for the contruction guys.  One morning, mom came out to notice them all milling in the side yard entrance, muttering worriedly.  When mom asked what was wrong, one of them explained that Carlos forgot to bring the Hamburger.  What do you need a hamburger for?  Asked mom, and they pointed down the side yard to where Mazel was sitting, doing her best Viscious Alpha Bitch Stare.

Apparently they’d never realized that she was on the VERY end of her tether there and couldn’t actually get to them, and had been scamming them for a big mac a day for a month.  Mom had my six-year-old sister pull her away to show she wasn’t dangerous and tired her best not to laugh but kind of failed.

Mazel ended up living to be 19 and a half, and except for some minor arthritis, remarkably hale until the day she passed away in her hole in the back yard while taking a nap.  I maintain that Death had to wait until she was sleeping to get a crack at her, or she would’ve taken his scythe for a chew toy.

Shitty knows way too much about housing codes and property law.  He initially learned property law to save the Haus from being condemned, but then he realized that reading archaic, flowery law opinions while high was the most fucking hilarious thing ever.  Everyone at his law school is confused by and a little afraid of Mr. B. Knight, because while no one else wants to touch all those old, mostly nonsensical British common law cases, Shitty eats that shit up

More Watertribe Lance
Also avatar Lance this time because we talked about this with friends and we are lance trash we wondered what kind of pet Lance would have if he was the avatar… Like Aang has Appa and Korra has Naga.

And we ended up with a Peacock-Lion because it just suits him perfectly

(also it was supposed to be Keith’s pet -bc yeah it’s definitely more a firenation-ish beast- but things happened ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) i’ll write headcanons someday lmao)

Okay. So imagine this:

  • Jack and the Providence Falconers have just won the Stanley Cup. The families of the players are starting to swarm the ice. Among them is Bitty.
  • He steps out onto the ice very tentatively, not sure how Jack is gonna want to play this with all of the cameras around
  • but as soon as Jack sees him he tosses his helmet and stick to the ground and rushes toward Bitty and lifts him up off the ground into a crushing hug and Bitty just automatically wraps his arms around Jack’s neck and starts whispering about how proud he is and Jack just holds him tight and buries his neck in his boyfriend’s shoulder.
  • And all around them people are screaming and confetti is falling and his teammates are celebrating, but Jack and Bitty are calm and safe in their own little world like the eye of a hurricane.
  • Of course cameras are zooming in on them, but George is standing nearby to make sure the press is respectful at least until the actual scheduled postgame interviews start and she’s ready to bash in some heads if she has to. 
  • Then, a few seconds later Bob and Alicia make it out to them and they don’t even wait for the hug to be over. They just throw their arms around Jack and Bitty in a big ol’ fashioned group hug. 
  • Jack sheds a tear into the crook of Bitty’s neck 
  • Because like?? hes never been this happy?? 
  • and when they break away they both have huge manic watery grins and they can’t look away from each other. 
  • Jack opens his mouth and he’s about to say ‘I love you Bits’ or something else super sappy but then Tater is tackling him and the crowd is chanting ‘Zimmerman’ and the cup is being thrust into his arms and he’s swept up into the celebration with his teammates 
  • and Alicia and Bitty just lean against each other, hands pressed to their hearts and Mr. Bad Bob Sir pats Bitty’s shoulder affectionately and smiles at his wife and everything is so beautiful. 
he likes to read

(this wants with all its heart to be a multichapter fic but i need instant gratification sooo)


He likes to read.

He likes to read and Kent likes him, and he really doesn’t know what to do about this fact.

Kent ran into him – well, ran past him, really – on a morning jog, in a usually deserted area of the community park where trees have been planted and are carefully watered to give the appearance of a verdant, lush grove in the middle of sunny, dusty Nevada. He was standing against a tree and reading, and when Kent jogged back to ask what he was doing, the man laughed and pointed to his book. Walden.

Kent’s never read it. The man shrugs. “It’s about a man who gave up his whole life to go live in the woods,” he says. “I used to go to Walden Pond and re-read it once a summer. But now I’m here and, well… this is as close to the woods as I can get.”

His name is James. He’s a high school English teacher. He shakes Kent’s sweaty hand and asks his name, what he does for a living.

Kent blinks at him hard. “You…” he starts. He was about to say, you don’t know?

“Me? You do me?” James cracks a smile. “Is that a pick-up line?”

His smile is sunny, and Kent breaks a little bit inside. He finds himself quickly enough to say, “Would it work?”

Keep reading

3

“Your anger is your strength, my apprentice! Feel it’s power within you!”

If Count Dooku had his way, he would have definitely made Obi-Wan his Sith apprentice (x)

I commissioned @lorna-ka to draw this and look at the BEAUTIFUL job they did XD

at the end of the day,
you’re still the
very last thing
that comes to mind.

you were the sun,
shimmering and
dancing in light,
over the tumultuous
tide of the deepest
waters of my being.

burning me,
extinguished
by me,
a cycle of
starts and finishes,
fires and steam,
always together
but always apart.

but I hope that the
fire you once lit
inside of me
never dies,

like I hope that the
flame that ignites
you is never
smothered out.

shine brightly
my love,
no matter
where you go
or what you do.

and maybe one day,
in another time and place,
where the sunlight
touches the sea,
we can burn
away together,
till the end
of time.

—  don’t let your fire burn out(5/23/17), thekaijusleeps

Someday you’ll kiss me awake with coffee breath, gently running your fingers through my hair until I look at you and grin. You’ll lean down and whisper, “I love you” in my ear and only after I whisper, “I love you more” back will you say, “I made you French toast and coffee and you better get your lazy butt out of bed before they get cold.” You’ll smack my butt before running to the kitchen and wait for me there. After dragging myself out of bed and trudging into the kitchen only to find you sitting at the table grinning from ear to ear will I see “I love you most” written in whipped cream on top of the French toast.

do y’all ever think about this real actual photo of young Baze and Chirrut (or young Chirrut and Baze– imo Chirrut is the one smoking, but either works)


(Photo by Roger Stonehouse, taken at a marketplace in Bagan. unfortunately i can’t find any info/credit for the boys in the photo…)

Headcanon

Headcanon that, years after the Civil War, the ex-Avengers are brought back for one reason or another. But their status has changed. Steve isn’t in charge anymore, none of them are, and they struggle to find their place in this new order of things, with teammates who treat them with varying degrees of hostility. 

They demand to see Tony when things first start not to go their way, and are told in no uncertain terms by a very unimpressed Peter and Kamala that he’s got much better things to do than to cater to their every whim. 

Then comes the first day they have to put in an apparition together, just the old team, to show a united front even though they’ve barely had a glimpse of Tony since their return, and they certainly haven’t forgiven him either. It’s a public thing, something for the general masses. And they think that they’ll be fine, at least the public will be on their side. 

Except their reception is lukewarm at best. 

But when Tony comes in… When he walks onto the stage, wearing a fantastic black suit and a crimson tie… 

The crowd goes wild. They rise, and they scream his name, a chant almost. But it’s not “Iron Man” they chant, no. 

It’s “Tony.” 

Because it’s Tony who stood up for the people. It’s Tony who fought and almost died to protect their interests. It’s Tony who signed first when told they didn’t feel safe anymore. 

And they love him for it. 

we almost had something.
i almost loved you and i like to think you almost loved me back. and i don’t know what happened. maybe i changed and you weren’t ready to change with me.
but i like to think that someday, in a couple of years, our paths will cross again. someday, when we’re not so wrapped up in everything else.
when you have the same capacity to love me that i’ve always had for you.
when the timing is right.
—  wishful thinking // @thecollisionsofsouls on tumblr

Vax Knew First - a (tiny, tiny) Drabble

Vax observes an aborted attempt at a conversation, and realizes a Thing.

Takes place during that one scene in ep 56 “Hope”. Y’all know the one.


“Percy!”

Vax hears Keyleth clearly. Even if he wasn’t especially attuned to her anywhere - including the crowded pub - he would have been able to hear her, the way anxiety made her voice ring sharp.

He’s at the bar, though his focus is everywhere at once, just out of habit. It narrows a little at the sound of Keyleth’s voice and he finds her easily in the crowd. Her fire red hair stands out as clearly as Percival’s white, and they both have a bit of height over the villagers around them.

Keep reading

elegy in two

(post-4x20 pseudo-speculative.)

i. ophelia.

‘don’t, please don’t touch me,’ he says, flinching back, sparking hurt in her eyes. she shows off her new skin and thinks he’ll find her beautiful. she can’t understand that she has burned a lifetime of memories he doesn’t want against the backs of his eyes. she stands in front of the mirror and sees an angel; he cowers from the devil.

‘please let me go,’ he says, because he knows and she knows this room is not his prison. because the ghost of a hand on his is enough to choke him. if she lets him go it’s because she knows he’ll never escape.

‘everything is so new and i am infinite,’ she tells him. she learns with lust, relishes the taste of even minor annoyances on her tongue. he sits in her shadow and wonders what it must feel like to start over. he imagines his brain unfurled like parchment: what would he erase first? he prays for a magical place.

she can’t reprogram his revulsion, the way her presence makes him retch. she can no longer draw promises from his lips. she doesn’t understand.

‘someday you will understand,’ he says.
‘but i understand the universe now. what else is there to know?’
she doesn’t understand why he craves the knife more than her caress.

to be human is to break and this is what breaks her: when his only action is to lead the team to her door, when he allows another woman to lead him out, when he does not once look back.

ii. jemma.

‘don’t, please don’t touch me,’ he says. she is still perfect but he has lost the right to the intimacy of her hand in his. her body is a warzone and he reads on her skin a mapping of his sins. here, he thinks, is where i betrayed you. here is where i will never forgive myself.

‘please let me go,’ he says, because this room cannot hold the weight of his grief, and she never agreed to share a bed with his demons. she does not touch him but remains tethered to his side, a string connecting their hearts, pulled as taut as it will go.

‘what i feel for you is so old and infinite,’ she whispers, ‘like we’ve been wrapped up in each other for so many lifetimes we don’t know where we begin.’ she is luminescent; he watches from the shadows and wonders what it must feel like to have only the burden of a single history. now he will always have lived a lifetime without her.

he begs her not to try; someday she will understand.
‘what will i understand?’
that her touch burns through him like consecrated water. that he’d never known rebirthing could be so painful. that he will pass through a thousand karmic cycles and never deserve the tenderness in her eyes. 

she stands on the shore as waves crash against his body. he wants the feeling of saltwater filling his lungs, but she lifts him back up every time. he can’t let her keep rescuing him; soon they will both be too exhausted to fight.

‘we promised we’d get through anything together.’

‘yes,’ he says, ‘but not this.’ these are not in the wedding vows i planned, he thinks. you’re meant to be so much happier.

‘yes,’ she says. ‘this.’

to be human is to break. to break and to break and to try again. he hands her his heart, because she has always kept it safe. because he has lived without it before.

he says: ‘take it, jemma’ and so she does.

anonymous asked:

Imagine the Falcs visiting an aviation museum as some family day thing and Jack's all nerdy and examining planes and Bitty's just doing his best "draw me like one of your french girls" on the wing of whatever plane Jack is looking at and the other Falcs are cracking up at Jack's obliviousness while Bitty gets more ridiculous with each pose

okay so I was JUST at the Air and Space museum and

  • Holster geeking out over the Enterprise and Ransom facepalming
  • Shitty talking about the size of the missiles and how someone’s CLEARLY COMPENSATING
  • Bitty trying the astronaut food and wanting to DIE
  • Jack being fascinated by the Wright Brothers plane
  • Chowder just going around like WOWW! EVERYTHING’S SO BIGGGGG!!11!1
  • Dex eyeing everything tring to figure out how it’s put together and casting pissy eyes at Nursey, who keeps trying to read aloud the ode to the Hubble he just wrote on his hand
  • The wife: What are you up to?
  • Me: Writing
  • The wife: ...you're looking up how to make gazpacho
  • Me: Did you know tomatoes weren't added until the 19th century? Wild

settle-down-frohike  asked:

35) things you said that made me feel real Turn-about is fair play homeskillet! 😘

Thank you so much for the prompt! No fluff this time :D

Deep in the night, they find her. They always find her.

She cowers when they tear and gnaw at her; her skin falling off, her resolve diminishing into darkness. A darkness where she can’t even hide. All she can do, all she needs to do is fight. So she struggles, she screams and thrashes around.

Until she finally wakes up.

Panting heavily, her heart racing, pounding, racing, trying to escape her chest. Trying to escape this reality. What is real, she thinks, counting to ten (like she’s learned since she’s been… back) and feeling her breathing return to normal ever so slowly.

Another nightmare.

Scully needs to remember this. Just a nightmare. None of it is real. She repeats these words, mouths them to herself here in the dark, but they feel hollow. There are no pictures, nothing to cling to or be angry at. Just feelings. And Dana Scully has never been good with handling feelings.

“Scully? You awake?” The knock on her door is soft; so soft she would not have heard it had she been asleep.

“I’m awake.” She lets him know, hoping he’ll just stroll in. This is the first time they’ve had adjoining rooms while on a case. Sometimes they’re not even on the same floor or in same building complex. Mulder opens the door and strolls in as if it were the middle of the day and not dead night.

“Can’t sleep?” Scully asks him before he can say anything else; question why she’s awake at this hour. She’s seen herself after her nightmares; the tear-streaked face, the pale complexion. It’s dark here in the room with the only source of light a sputtering street light outside. He’s walking closer to the bed and Scully thinks back to their first case when he let her have his bed while he told her about his sister’s abduction. Right now she hopes he doesn’t want her to return the favor.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” He pulls up a chair and sits close to her bed, but not too close. She can see him better now; shadows playing on his face, his eyes alert and curious. But she keeps quiet. Scully can tell he wants her to admit the same. She flushes with horror thinking he might have heard her scream out from her nightmare. The first few nights her mother had stayed with her and after her Melissa. Both, with teary, pitiful eyes had told her about her night terrors. What are those dreams about? Her sister had wanted to know. Scully had not told her. Could not tell anyone.

“You could watch some TV?” She offers. “I was about to turn it on myself.”

“Hm.” The chair squeaks as Mulder stretches out his legs, almost touching the bedpost. “Does this happen every night, Scully?” The gentleness in his voice surprises her as much as his question and she startles.

“What do you mean?” Scully wills her voice to be steady, to be strong.

“Scully, come on.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. His face is still so far away it seems, yet she feels like he’s invading her personal space.

“I have nightmares from time to time,” she admits, “Everyone has them.”

“Not like this.”

“Well, not everyone has experienced what I have, Mulder.” She doesn’t mean to sound so irritated and she almost apologizes. Almost.

“I know that, Scully,” his voice is so soft, like a caress and she immediately feels the anger subside again, “I just – maybe you should have taken some more time off.”

“No. I want to work. It… it helps.”

“Can I help you, too?”

“What?”

“Just… can I stay here? Just for tonight? I’ll behave.” Mulder promises with a chuckle.

“What do you mean stay here?”

“In this chair. Just… just in case.”

“Mulder, you need to sleep. You can’t sleep in a chair.”

“Watch me.” Another chuckle. “Please, Scully.” His voice is pleading and she’s glad now that it’s too dark to see his face. She can hear everything she doesn’t want to know in his voice. Her mother told her how much Mulder suffered when she was gone. She’s never seen it; has not seen a difference in him in the daylight. Now, though… now she understands.

“All right,” she settles back down, facing him. “You can stay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper; she can’t speak these words loudly, afraid they might sound like defeat. Mulder’s even, certain breathing is a peaceful lullaby, rocking her back to sleep.

They’re back. Laughing at her in the darkness, their hands reaching for her. Grabbing. Tearing at her arms, scratching her skin.

“Scully, hey, it’s all right.” The voice is above her, somewhere, and she gasps. The hands, though, they’re still there. The darkness keeps its hold on her, tries to drag her down.

“It’s all right, you’re here. You’re here with me. It’s Mulder.”

If only her eyes would open, she thinks, reaching out her hand. Something tender brushes her cheek, then the other one. Warm. Warm and solid.

“Open your eyes, Scully,” the voice is closer, drowns out the darkness and pulls her up, “Look at me. This is real. I’m real.”

“Mulder?” She mumbles, her eyes blinking furiously, waking up.

“Yes, it’s me.” The relief in his voice is palpable and finally her eyes snap fully open. There he is; his face close to hers. So close he’s almost blurry.

“Just a nightmare,” he assures her; the same words she used to calm herself earlier, “You had a nightmare. It was not real. None of it is real.” She can only nod. If she opens her mouth now, even if just to say thank you, the tears will flow. She is not ready. Not ready to let him see him like that.

Without another word, he puts his arms around her tightly, holding her. They’re lying there entwined, touching in places they’ve not dared feel before, breathing in the same air.

“I’ll be here.” He whispers against her mouth and Scully closes her eyes again. This is real, she reminds herself; he is real and I am.

We are real.

Scully sleeps and this time there’s no nightmare.

some AUs to consider

“We ended up paired together as contestants on ‘Soul Mates’ the game show and we kind of hate each other but we both really want the $100,000”

“My friends convinced you and I to go on a double date but we just want to be friends and it turns out so do the other two… but now I’m falling for one of them and you’re falling for the other”

“We were best friends when we were three but you moved away and I forgot about you”

“Hello please let me in I left you a message at two in the morning and I was very drunk and please let me delete that”

“That field trip totally sucked and now the whole school bus is stuck in many miles of completely unmoving traffic. So… hi”

“I got mugged but you saved me with a can of pepper spray and some pretty impressive sweeping kicks… except you saved me with a CAN OF PEPPER SPRAY and my face feels like it’s on fire”

“It was really hot and I got heat stroke on the Tube and passed out in the station, thank god you’re a doctor”

“We’re stand partners in the orchestra and we’re constantly arguing or talking during rehearsal and the director hates us”

Someday When I Have the Time, I'll Write a Book

Says Sharyn McCrumb: “Each time someone blames his unwritten masterpiece on a lack of time, I smile sympathetically and nod. I am thinking: ‘Crap.’

“Procrastinators get no sympathy from me. In 1986 when a publishing company accepted my four-page book proposal, the catch was this: In order to meet their spring deadline, the editor would need the completed novel in six weeks. I did not have six weeks to devote to writing a novel. I was working full time at the university. I was teaching a night class in fiction. I was taking two graduate English courses that semester, both requiring research papers. I had an eight-year-old daughter, I was six weeks pregnant, and I felt awful.

“I wrote the book in six weeks.

“It won the Edgar Allan Poe Award for Best Paperback Novel in 1987. It’s still in print.”

—Mystery writer Sharyn McCrumb

There’s lots of reasons we don’t accomplish what we wish to accomplish. I hope that we, me, us recognize when those reasons are, well, crap…