i'm the only

Some Motivational Mugman cause I keep dying but I won’t stop trying. 

anonymous asked:

Random suggestion but maybe you could make your OC have like a literal name? So like Midori means green, and Y'know Midoriya's hair is green so you could somehow correlate your OC's name with their quirk/appearance???

WAIT WHAT 

YOU’RE TELLING MIDORIYA’S NAME IS “MIDORIYA” BECAUSE.. HIS HAIR IS. GREEN?????????????!!!???!!?

anonymous asked:

Hi love! So I read this somewhere and it gave me an idea for a prompt. Basically after Mulder says yes to IVF, he goes back and wonders why him. He knows that Scully finds him reckless, stubborn, he himself knows he is an asshole sometimes (esp. to S). So maybe he goes back to confront her about her choice of why him and S explains. I think this also comes from M's reaction to compliments (remember Piper Maru?) I know you have tons to write but whenever the inspiration strikes :) - Detour Anon

You always have such wonderful prompts for me! I’m not sure I did this one justice. I tried my best. Set right after Mulder leaves Scully’s apartment in Per Manum. 

Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic

Mulder can’t quite keep the grin off this face. Neither can he keep his eyes on the road. Or his concentration in check. A baby. He and Scully are going to try and have a baby. Not in the most traditional way, mind you. But when have they ever been traditional? Behind him a car blows the horn; Mulder didn’t notice the traffic light had changed from red to green. He puts his foot on the gas pedal, hopes that his mental autopilot directs him towards the Hoover Building and not into some ditch.

A baby.

A tiny human that’s half her and half him. Mulder has never seriously considered having children. It came up once when he and Diana were married. She was late and while they waited for the results, they used the tediously long minutes to speak about What If. Mulder didn’t want a child even if he never said the exact words to her. Not then, not with Diana. The negative result was the beginning of the end anyway. Though these days he knows it never should have started in the first place.

There is no doubt in Mulder’s mind that Scully will be a wonderful mother. In his mind, the baby is a small boy, who won’t have to compete with the hazy memory of Emily, a sister he’ll never meet. He’s got floppy hair, a reddish brown; the color of maple leaves in late fall. He’ll ask all the important questions with his big eyes: as big as saucers, as blue as the clearest ocean. Mulder loses himself in his daydream, in the idea of her child. Hers. Except it’s not going be just her. The poor kid, boy or girl, might end up with his nose. A car passes him by, the driver gesturing angrily through the window. Another traffic light he’s not paid attention to, Mulder realizes. 

His thoughts turn darker, change direction and his smile fades. Be careful, Mulder. Don’t jump on that train, Mulder. Don’t eat the evidence, Mulder. What if this potential child turns out just like him? Not listening to what he’s told, always convinced he knows better. Stubborn as a mule (though he’d never admit it to anyone). Reckless with his life and the feelings of others. Mulder sighs. Scully thinks everything through; whether it’s about which salad she should order, what clothes to wear or who to father her child. But then why him? So overwhelmed by her request, he did not even think about the Why. Once again he’d jumped right in. After she asked him, after she told him to think about it, he made his decision before she even left his apartment. The words had tickled his throat and only the expression on her face had stopped him. Think about it, she told him, tell me in a few days. That was Friday. Today, on Sunday, he could no longer keep quiet. Once or twice he wondered what she’d do about work. Whether or not she wanted him around for any of what would come after conception. None of his thoughts were as vivid as his dreams about the small child, pudgy arms and legs, squealing in delight, begging to be held. There was never a question as to what his answer would be.

Mulder’s car comes to a stop. So much for his autopilot: he is back at Scully’s place. Work can wait, he decides. It’s Sunday, after all. 

“Mulder?” Scully is surprised to see him back. “Please don’t tell me you changed your mind. I just called Dr. Parenti.”

“No! No, I didn’t change my mind. I was just wondering if you really thought this through?” No gentle preamble; he needs to know and he needs to know now.

“Excuse me?”

“No, that’s not what I - can I come in? I’m not sure your neighbors need to hear this.” She lets him in, crosses her arms in front of her. Mulder can’t blame her. This time she doesn’t ask if she can take his coat. Sweat breaks out on his forehead, trickles down his back and makes his shirt stick to him. 

“So you did change your mind.”

“No, I didn’t but Scully… why me?” Her eyes grow big, soften.

“Why you?” He nods, waits for her answer. 

“I’m not exactly a price, am I? You could choose anyone, Scully. Some handsome genius with impeccable manners and perfect genes. Why not choose that guy?“ 

"Sit down, Mulder.” He does as he’s told, her tone not giving him any other choice. She sits in front of him on her coffee table. She puts her hands on his thighs, their heads close together as if she’s about to share a secret with him.

“If you’d said no, I’m not sure I would have gone through with it. When Dr. Parenti asked me about a possible father… there was only you, Mulder. You were my first thought.”

“But-” She motions for him to be quiet. He bites his lip hard, nods. Scully is the reasonable one in this partnership. How does she not see his faults?

“You’re passionate, Mulder. You’re caring.”

“I’m stubborn.” He adds with a sheepish smile.

“You are,” Scully agrees with a matching expression, “but you’re stubborn in a good way. You never gave up on me, Mulder. Not when I was missing and not when I was in Antarctica. You never give up.” He’d go anywhere for Scully. If someone hid her away on the moon, he’d find her there, too. But her eyes tell him she is not done yet; must sense his remaining doubts.

“You have a beautiful mind,” she puts a finger against his forehead, “I love how your mind works. Well, most of the time. Your communications skills could use some work.”

“But Scully-” her fingers moves down from his forehead, touches his nose and lands on his lips. 

“I’m not done yet. You’re so open, Mulder. I know that your inclination to believe in just about anything drives me crazy sometimes. But it’s one of your greatest qualities." 

"You really think that?” Scully nods. 

“You infuriate me constantly, Mulder. But that doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re a wonderful man. The only man I can imagine myself doing this with.” There is something more she wants to say, he thinks. Her cheeks flush in a soft pink and he wonders if she considered telling him he’d make a great father. They’re not ready for that conversation just yet, though, and they both know it.

“I’m not too ugly either?” He grins at her, tries to take the seriousness out of their talk. 

“Did I answer your question, Mulder?” Scully’s hands are back on his thighs. Her face is still close. He could easily close the distance and kiss her, but they’re not quite ready for that step either. Soon, her eyes seem to tell him, and he nods, answers two questions; the one she asked and the one she didn’t.

“I should really go back to the office now.” Disappointment washes over her face and he regrets saying it. Before he can take it back though, she’s already gotten up; the moment is gone.

“Thank you again, Mulder. Dr. Parenti will call you with the details soon.” Back to business. Mulder gets up, too, sweaty and spent. He wants to hug Scully again just to feel her close, but doesn’t. 

“See you tomorrow? At work?” Scully nods, gives him one last, tiny smile.

“See you at work.” Mulder leaves with a stomach full of butterflies and a mind full of images of their precious baby boy. Soon.

Me: wow the evil within 2 has such a great message about learning to forgive yourself and reaching a cathartic acceptance of your past even after you feel like everything is your fault. On top of that, the message that love is a powerful force that overcomes all is beautiful as well.

Also me: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm love that stabby photo boy. Well dressed Italian art school drop out boyyy

Sleep is a current theme in John’s songs, (“Strawberry fields forever” “I’m so tired”, “#9 Dream″) and ‘I’m only sleeping’ was the very first song he wrote that had this dreamy atmosphere.

In the book “John Lennon: In my life’ written by Pete Shotton, John’s friend recalls that one thing John hated more than going to bed at night was getting out of it the next day:

“In his private Kenwood existence, John avoided any semblance of a routine, preferring to eat, sleep, or work when and if he happened to feel hungry, tired or inspired. If I were there, he would often want to talk and play all night long - in which case he would rarely emerge from his bedroom before two o’ clock the following afternoon.” 

This John’s habit inspired not only John to write a song, but also Paul. In fact, when he wanted to write, he used to come over to John’s house in the afternoon and wake him up for a work session. 

“Often Paul would be John’s morning alarm call.  Living at Wimpole Street…meant he got up earlier than John and packed more into each day.  John led a more relaxed suburban life but if he went to dinner in London or to a club, living so far from town meant that he returned home very late.  Paul would arrive at midday or the early afternoon and wake him up, which was where John got the idea for ‘I’m Only Sleeping.’” - Barry Miles, ‘Many Years from now’

But sometimes, Paul would just wait for John to wake up. One day, while he was sitting outside by the pool while John was sleeping, he wrote ‘Here, there and everywhere.’ John, on the other hand, had the idea to write ‘I’m only sleeping’.

“That’s me,..dreaming my life away”  - John, Playboy Interview, 1980.

It was a nice idea — ‘There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m not being lazy, I’m only sleeping, I’m yawning, I’m meditating, I’m having a lay-in.’ The song was co-written but from John’s original idea.” —Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now by Barry Miles.

At 2:01 you can hear Paul yawning. (…mimicking John?:) )

4

I have a dream
I hope will come true
That you’re here with me
And I am here with you
I wish that the earth, sea, and the sky up above
Will send me someone to lava

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Tagged by @itsjjptime for the bias selfie tag SO. Here are laughing babes and me <3 THANKS, LOVE!

Tagging: @knockknocksoosthere , @katbeom , @baebae-goodnight , @igot7bangtanbaes , @iwonchubebe , @kimnamwho@imdifferentshadesofpurple , @rude–jude , @kollectionn , @jaxslauj , @hoodiejungkook 

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@Saito_Shuka:
Me with a Minion from T-SPOOK!!!
I super-dashed up to the Minion to give him a hug
I was so tired when I got there.
I love them so much… (T_T)
This is a picture I took with Stuart.
I was like “Gyaaa!”

Have you ever gone though your Tumblr archive and just cringed to death? Because that’s exactly me right now.

I discovered that I posted this in September of 2011:

“i still have huge crushes on emo guys <3333″

ASDFGHJKL SOMEONE PUNCH ME PLEASE WHY DID I TYPE THAT.

I also tagged it as “phil and dan”…sort your life out, 15 year old Taylor.