is that what the kids are calling it


#is it me or they look like parents getting told by the teacher their son did something bad?#I’m sorry to call you in Mr and Mrs Jones#but Liam has bitten a kid today#he did some magic and hit another guy in the face with his lego#what my lad?#are you even sure it was him?#and Emma looking shocked because wtf is my kiddo doing???#they look like parents#Killian can’t believe his kid would do something like that#and then he has to come up with reality#Liam did a bad#and Emma is like what the hell#trying to apologise to the teacher

Thorki Summer AUs
  • Thor’s friends drag him to an indie music festival. He gets drunk, hits on a stranger (Loki) and then loudly badmouths an obnoxious emo band. Loki is the lead singer of said band.
  • City-dweller Loki goes hiking/biking across the countryside to get some fresh air and, naturally, ends up in the middle of a thunderstorm. Thor is living/vacationing on a nearby farm and finds pissed off, soaking wet stranger on his porch.
  • Thor fell asleep on his balcony, completely naked. Loki doesn’t know what to do: stay home and let Thor get sunburns on his dick? Or climb over the balcony, accidentally revealing that he likes to spy on his hot neighbour?
  • Kid Loki and slightly older Thor go to a summer camp together. Thor is at the stage where he wants to be cool and popular, and his new friends are great! Surely Loki is exaggerating when he says they are picking on him? Come on, Loki, it’s all in good fun! No-one’s calling you names, and what do you mean they took away your stuff? Lighten up! Be nice to them, it’s summer! :D
  • Loki and Thor go on holiday to the exact same spot they broke up in two years ago, figuring it’s the last place on Earth the other would like to visit. Naturally, there’s only one room left.
  • The Odinsons go on holiday together. Loki is determined to lose his virginity, just to see what all the fuss is about. Thor has no idea why he keeps trying to stop him…
Step-parents (Writing Prompts)
  1. Write about the first meeting/introduction.
  2. Write about the first conflict.
  3. Write about the decision what the children will call the step-parent.
  4. Write about the first time the child comes to the step-parent with something serious.
  5. Write about a light-hearted bonding moment.
  6. Write about the bio parent and the step-parent not agreeing on something related to the children.
  7. Write about the child and the step-parent teaming up against the bio parent.
  8. Write about a step-parent who can never really accept their significant other’s child.
  9. Write about the step-parent noticing a problem the child has.
  10. Write about a child who adores their step-parent.
  11. Write about a step-parent fighting for custody.
  12. Write about a step-parent taking the child for an (awkward) ice cream trip.
  13. Write about a step-parent trying to pick a gift for the child.
  14. Write about the child saying something mean to their step-parent.
  15. Write about the step-parent and the child decorating the house together.

anonymous asked:

bechloe???? imagine your OTP wit their first young kid (like 1 years old) and the kid gets sick for the first time and your OTP doesn't know what to do so they call their parents and whatever happens next is up to you

[Beca 7:29 pm]: Omw home. How’s Em?

[Chloe 7:35 pm] same. temp wont go down :(

[Beca 7:36 pm] Shit. What are we going to do?

[Beca 7:45 pm] Chlo???

Beca sighed as her text once again went unanswered, the brunette lazily tossing her iPhone into the cup holder before curling her hands around the steering wheel; she couldn’t wait to get home, she needed to make sure her kid was okay.

Earlier that morning, Beca had gotten up to start her usual morning with her wife and daughter only to find Chloe pacing through the nursery with a whimpering Emily cradled in her arms, the one-year-old clutching at her ear.

After that, it was a blur of taking care of the infant while half dressing herself for yet another day full of interviews to promote her upcoming tour; Beca had wanted to stay home, but Chloe had practically pushed her out the door.

For the entire day, Beca had kept her phone glued to her hand as she frequently received texts from her wife updating her on Emily’s sickness while her knee bounced anxiously in hopes that it would some how speed up each interview she was forced into.

Beca sighed in relief as she finally pulled up her driveway, her hand reaching up to jab at the garage door opener on her car visor before she easily pulled in beside Chloe’s Ford Explorer before scrambling from the car.

The brunette hurried into the house, the alarm beeping to alert her entrance as she followed the sound of Chloe’s soft voice and heartbreaking cries, Beca wincing as she sped her walk up to the living room.

The DJ paused as she took in the sight of Chloe bouncing Emily in her arms as she walked through the room, her red locks piled haphazardly on top of her head and a burp cloth thrown over her shoulder, her blue eyes swimming with building tears.

“Thank God you’re home,” Chloe breathed out once she caught sight of her wife, the woman shaking her head. “I-I called the doctor and I set up an appointment for tomorrow, but she won’t stop crying. Sh-she’s in so much pain.”

“It’s okay,” Beca soothed as she crossed the room to stand beside her wife, her fingers gliding through the soft brown locks on her daughter’s head while frowning softly. “Little dude, what’s going on?”

“Ea.” Emily whimpered as she clutched her tiny fist around her ear.

“I know, kiddo,” Beca sighed as she smoothed a hand over the back of her daughter’s head before looking to her wife, a worried expression on her face. “Maybe we should like call one of our moms.”

Chloe’s eyes widened before she nodded, “That’s a good idea.”

“Okay, you go call your mom and I’ll take Em,” Beca smiled as she held her arms out for her daughter, Chloe humming as she pressed a kiss to Emily’s warm head before handing her over to her wife.

Emily whined at the jostling Beca did to move her to a comfortable position, the little girl arching her back in protest and Beca easily settled a hand on her midback to steady her before beginning to walk through the room.

“Hey, hey,” Beca cooed as she bounced the one-year-old, the baby whimpering as she nuzzled comfortably into her mother’s neck. “It’s okay, little dude. Mama’s here. We’ll getcha feeling better in no time.”

“Mama.” Emily whimpered, rubbing her nose against Beca’s neck.

“I’m right here,” Beca assured her in a soft whisper as she dragged her nose over the top of Emily’s head, the baby clinching her fists around her mother’s button up shirt. “Shh, baby. I’m right here.”

Emily’s whimpers slowly began to melt away as she continued to twist Beca’s shirt, the brunette smiling adoringly as she swayed with her daughter before moving towards the kitchen where she could hear Chloe’s soft voice.

“I got her to calm down,” Beca murmured with a smug little grin, Chloe shooting her a look of amusement before continuing her conversation with her mother. “What’s she saying? Anything we can do till tomorrow?”

“My mom said we should try putting a warm washcloth over her ear,” Chloe said as she turned her mouth away from the phone. “And if she’s still really fussy then she said there’s a few oils we can run to the store for.”

“Okay.” Beca nodded, the worry clear on her face.

“Apparently, I had tons of earaches whenever I was Em’s age,” Chloe added before muttering something to her mother and ending the phone conversation. “My mom said they’re pretty normal.”

“That sucks. I don’t like her being in pain.” Beca frowned as she continued to sway side to side, Emily humming lightly against her neck as she snuggled closer. “We should probably get a washcloth warmed up for her.”

“Okay,” Chloe nodded as she smoothed a hand down Emily’s back, her head tilting to the side to look at the one-year-old who cooed at the sight of her mother. “Don’t worry, baby, mommy is gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“Mommy is the best at making us feel better, huh?” Beca grinned.

Chloe smiled softly at her wife before leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips, “How’d the interviews go?”

“Fine.” Beca shrugged. “I just wanted to get home.”

“Why?” Chloe frowned as she moved to gather a washcloth from a drawer.

“Why do you think?” Beca scoffed as she walked towards the kitchen table, sitting down slowly and shifting Emily in her arms. “I hate the idea of you being home with Em alone when she’s this sick. I wanted to be here too.”

“We were okay, she didn’t really start getting fussy till about an hour ago.” Chloe shrugged as she warmed the sink water, her finger dancing underneath the tap. “She just held her ear all day and slept in my lap.”

“I still wish I would’ve been here.” Beca muttered.

“Well, next earache you can stay with her instead,” Chloe teased as she finally ran the cloth under the tap, the redhead draining it before moving towards her wife and daughter. “Do you want to hold her or should I?”

“I’ve got her.” Beca assured her with a small nod.

Chloe nodded slowly as she pulled a chair towards the pair and reached to gently pull Emily’s hand from her ear, the baby whining in protest before releasing a small breath at warm cloth that replaced her grasp.

“Becs, you can’t be upset with yourself for not being here,” Chloe sighed as she kept her gaze locked on her daughter. “You’ve got a tour coming up, and this won’t be the last time I’m home alone with her when she’s sick. It’s okay.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I duck out every time something hard comes up with her. I don’t want to be like my dad.” Beca mumbled. “Every time I was sick, my mom was the only one who took care of me.”

“Beca, you’re amazing with her,” Chloe assured her. “You’ve been here for all her huge milestones and that’s what matters. You’re an awesome mom, I promise. She loves you so much. Look at her.”

Beca glanced down at the baby cuddled in her arms, the one-year-old’s fluttering her lashes against Beca’s neck before she yawned and rubbed a fist against her nose, Beca smiling lovingly at the little girl.

“She really is perfect.” Beca sighed.

“Well, she was your egg so I don’t think we should be surprised she’s perfect.” Chloe chirped, Beca rolling her eyes playfully before Emily babbled softly. “See, even Emily agrees with me. We think you’re perfect.”

“Not quite as perfect as this moment right now.” Beca shrugged as she looked between her wife and daughter. “I know I can’t change that I wasn’t here all day, but I’m glad I’m here now. There’s no where else I’d rather be.”

“Of course not.” Chloe teased with a wink. “We love you, Becs.”

“I love you guys too.” Beca whispered before she dropped a kiss to Emily’s head before leaning forward to meet Chloe’s lips with her own, lingering for a long moment before drawing away to nudge their noses together.

Excerpt from Jun Mochizuki and Junko Minagawa’s Interview from 24 + 1 Last Dance (SPOILERS!)

Mochizuki: That reminds me…In the final chapter the kids that were around were saying “Gil is a heroine!”

Minagawa: Well he (Gil) is a heroine! That’s because Alice is what you would call a cool, handsome man. But, where there’s Oz, there’s Alice.

[This interview then continues on to talk about the Oz, Gil, Alice OT3 and Oz/Echo. Since it has been nearly two weeks now, small posts like this one will not be under Read Mores anymore.]

anonymous asked:

1 with Cullen and Elena in the "We've Met Before" universe please? Thank you! I love your writing!

“Elena, you need to get down from there eventually,” Cullen called across the lake, his tone exasperated; he had been trying to coax her back to shore for the last half an hour. 

“Then why don’t you come over here and make me!” She called back from where she was perched precariously on a large bolder in the middle of the water. “I’m not fucking kidding. I saw a snake. There’s no way I’m getting in there again.”

She could hear his sigh from all way across the water as he kicked off his shoes and shrugged of his already unbuttoned shirt. 

“What are you doing?” She called, the panic still tenable in her voice. 

“Coming to get you.” 

He was already up to his waist in the water by then. In one smooth motion he dove forward, swimming with powerful strokes to where she was stranded. After a few moments, he surface, his blond curls plastered to his forehead and neck. 

He extended a hand to her, “come on, baby, let’s go back to camp, everyone’s waiting for you.”

She looked around, her gaze uncertain as she contemplated taking his hand. “What if I get bitten by something?”

She saw his jaw clench and she knew he was getting tired of arguing, but instead of being annoyed, he spoke in a low, calm voice. “Then Dorian’ll used the first aid kit on you. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll get bitten on that delectable ass of yours. Just think, I’d have to take you over my knee and suck the venom out–”

Cullen!” Elena knew her cheeks were flushed red as her bikini. 

He chuckled, “come on, sweetheart, I promise you everything will be fine.”

After a moment, she nodded, carefully clambering off the rock and onto his back, before securely wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Cullen swam back to shore and helped her stand. 

Once she was once again firmly on solid ground, she smiled shyly up at him, not a little embarrassed at her behavior in hindsight. Arching up on the tips of her toes, she brushed a kiss across his check. 

“My hero,” she said, her voice teasing but the sincerity of her words still clear. 

remind me to, one of these days, type up my post on how i think the disability advocacy community, especially as seen on tumblr, really doesn’t consider the needs of intellectually disabled people, chronically nonverbal people, and other disabled people who cannot for whatever reason make blogs

case en pointe:

idk. this just…rubs me wrong. idk. i do not like that this person was shut down like that. i do not like that people seem more worried about getting less-obviously-autistic people acknowledged, and less worried about doing something for everybody else.

like, we shittalk A$ for not providing enough services and doing more for themselves. what services are we working on for not-ourselves? we do a lot of internet fighting when people call us “disabled,” but autism can be disabling.

i don’t even see anybody so much as talking about what disabled kids still in school are dealing with right now. the special education systems is in shambles. police are not educated on how to work with disabled people, and it’s killing people.

next april, instead of fighting autism $peaks, why don’t we try to indiegogo a charity to get kids ipads with AAC apps? get people interested in training police in dealing with disabled people? find out what your local special/exceptional education classroom needs and help the teachers there? volunteer with your local special olympics? volunteer with a local in-home care service or group home?

there’s just…so much we could be doing. and i keep feeling like we’re leaving out a huge chunk of people.

anonymous asked:

So, what have you or the other Ghost crew members heard about a ship called the Millennium Falcon?

Kanan: I haven’t heard of it, but I’m not a ship expert.

Hera: Huh. I have heard of it. It changes hands a lot though – last I knew some kid called Solo was Captain.

Kanan: Han Solo?

Hera: I think that was his name? 

Kanan: Well, well, well.

Hera: You know him?

Kanan: No. 

Hera: Kanan?

Kanan: What?

Hera: Never mind.

There was these lil animal toys when I was a kid and you got like this little area where the animals lived and I think there was this pouch where was some baby animals or something?
Does this ring a bell to anyone and if it does, do you remember what they were called?
I had at least a bear and a swan family. I just found the mommy swan and now I just can’t stop thinking what they were called! Or if they even had any specific name….. 


All I did was blink… Happy 18 birthday to my baby. ( He may be 18 but he is still gonna act like he’s 15.) I’m so proud how far he has come and how much he has accomplished. He is the best idol anyone can ask for and I’m so excited what he has in store for us in the future! He grisly loves us and he shows it a lot. I’m so happy to call this kid, Matthew Lee Espinosa, my hero/sunshine/moonlight and my idol. ❤ ❤💌🎈

Bengie Molina on Tim Lincecum (and on Buster Posey):

I threw myself into helping the Giants’ young pitching staff, in particular a baby-faced rookie named Tim Lincecum. Timmy, a first-round draft pick, looked like the batboy—five feet, eleven inches tall and maybe 160, 170 pounds—but he pitched like Sandy Koufax. He threw 95 mph and had a great changeup, slider, and curve. But what made him so good, at least in large part, was he
believed no one could hit him. People were already calling him “the Franchise.”

“This kid is going to be unbelievable,” I told Jamie on the phone one night, “once he really knows what he’s doing.”

He became my little brother in the clubhouse. He listened to everything. He never shook me off in a game. He was introverted and humble, especially for someone with such extraordinary talent and someone who was becoming so popular in San Francisco that he could barely walk out of his apartment without drawing a crowd.

Every day I found myself in quiet conversation in the clubhouse or dugout with one player or another, not just Timmy, offering encouragement to a guy on a bad streak, suggesting a particular approach against an opposing pitcher. As the season unfolded, I found myself echoing Pai: “You got to just think about today, man.”

“Don’t try to do it all yourself. You got a whole team here with you.”
“Just keep working hard every day. All-out, all the time. It’ll turn around. You’re too good, man, for it not to.” (Pg. 125)

With Barry Bonds gone in 2008, there was already a more relaxed feel in the clubhouse. But his departure left a huge hole in the lineup. Now someone else was going to have to bat cleanup. Bochy made an unlikely choice. Me.

Boch, a former catcher himself, made sure I knew my number-one job was handling an incredibly young, incredibly talented pitching staff. Tim Lincecum. Matt Cain. Jonathan Sanchez. Brian Wilson. Almost overnight, we changed from a hitting team to a pitching team. (Pg. 129)

WHEN A REPORTER called in November to get my comments on Tim Lincecum winning the Cy Young Award, it took me a moment to register what he was he talking about. The baseball season seemed like a million years ago.

Timmy was the second Cy Young winner I had caught in four seasons (the Angels’ Bartolo Colon was the other). I texted Tim to congratulate him, and he texted back that he couldn’t have won it without me. Typical Timmy. Generous, humble, and gracious. He said he was looking forward to seeing me at spring training in a couple of months. (Pg. 144)

In November, Lincecum won his second Cy Young. “Bengie’s half the reason I’m here,” he told reporters in the press conference.

I signed a one-year contract with the Giants to play through the 2010 season. I’d be mentoring rookie catcher Buster Posey, a great talent and a great person. I loved working with him.

But at the end of June, the Giants traded me to the Texas Rangers. The team plane had just landed in Denver when my teammates looked up from their cell phones and began coming over to say how much they’d miss me. I had no idea what they were talking about. Then I saw a text message from Jamie: “Looks like we’re going to Dallas.” She had been getting texts for two hours about the trade. The news must have broken soon after we took off from San Francisco.

With no Internet or cell service, none of us knew until we landed. I was angry that I hadn’t been told. Giants manager Bruce Bochy apologized and said he
couldn’t say anything because the trade hadn’t been finalized.

No matter what any player tells you about baseball being a business and you can’t take anything personally, it was a blow to be traded. That team was so much like a family, and being traded felt like being kicked out the front door. On the bus from the airport to the hotel, where I would wait for travel information from the Rangers, I stood up in the aisle. “I want to say thanks for being such great teammates and for taking care of me,” I said. “I’m really going to miss you guys. You have what it takes to win this whole thing. If you stick together as a team, you will do it. And I’m going to be watching as much as I can. You all have my number. Even if I’m not your teammate anymore, I’ll always be your friend.”

I was about to sit down when everyone started to clap. Then they stood and clapped. I was blown away. The best standing O of my career.” (Pg. 148)

We won the American League Championship. The Giants won the National League Championship. The Rangers would be playing the Giants in the World Series. I became just the second player in history to play in the World Series against the team he had played for earlier in the same season. Among other things, it meant I’d get a World Series ring no matter which team won. (Any player on the roster at any time during a championship season receives a ring.)

Before Game 1 in San Francisco, a text arrived from Buster Posey: “Hey, B-Mo, good luck!” I typed back: “Thanks, Buster. Enjoy the moment!”

Reporters in the Bay Area asked how I felt playing against teammates I considered like brothers. “I’ve played against my real brothers,” I said. “I think I’ll be okay.”

When I stepped into the batter’s box against Lincecum, the kid I’d mentored since he arrived in the big leagues and had been his catcher during both his Cy Young seasons, I touched the bill of my cap, and he touched his.

The Rangers lost the Series. I watched from the dugout as my friends and former teammates swarmed the field to celebrate the franchise’s first World Series championship since moving to San Francisco in 1958. (Pg. 149)

All excerpts from Molina: The Story of the Father Who Raised an Unlikely Baseball Dynasty by Bengie Molina and Joan Ryan 2015.


So I announce tonight at dinner that I’m going to Zumba tomorrow night at 7. I hear crickets at the table and people start glancing at each other. “What?” I asked. Well, it seems that 18 year old boy and girl have a meeting at church at the exact time my class starts. Husband is on call so he can’t keep 5 year old on the off chance he gets called out. So there I sit, finished before I start.

Then husband said, “Go babe. I’ll keep the kid and if I get called out, I’ll call your mom to take him for a bit. Go. Have fun.”

I think I’ll try.

I might be going away for a while

Suicide trigger warning

After I write this I will decide if I will call EMS and admit myself.
I’m afraid of admitting myself. 
I’m afraid of what will happen when I get out.
I’m afraid it will be the final trigger that makes my family finally disown me.

Hello, my name is Audrey and I suffer from severe chronic depression.
You might know this already if you follow my blog. I’ve talked about it before. 
I also have PCOS and body dysphoria.

Ever since I was a kid I struggled with both my weight and my identity. I’ve always wanted to be a svelte, athletic man. I didn’t know there was a term for this when I was younger, that there were gender connotations so I went with “androgyny”.  
I should start by mentioning I have a facial deformity, a lazy eye, and have always felt very insecure about it as well. 
When I was 13 I learned I had a hormonal imbalance in my body called PCOS and with it came rapid weight gain. PCOS is when cysts in your ovaries . When I was 17 I weighed 300 pounds and was put on phentermine, a powerful stimulant. I was also put on birth control to regulate my cysts. 
When I was 19 I slimmed down all the way to 140 pounds, which for my height was extremley good. Everyone was proud of me. I did do a lot of exercise and dieting, but the pills are really what helped me out. I was taken off the pills after 3 months but because of the praise I became obsessed with my weight and began to abuse other stimulants because I wanted to get even thinner, I wanted to look like a man.  In addition I also became a heavy drinker because I felt like I would never achieve this goal and alcohol helped me forget. 

Alcoholism is genetic in my family. My mother started drinking heavily when I was 14 and has been in and out of jail, drunk tanks, hospitals and in general my family life since I was a teenager has been frequent bouts of domestic abuse, hatred and guilt. My father travels for his job and has since I was young. I had no parental guidance when I was a teenager. I nearly dropped out of highschool. In typical woeful fashion, I fucking wrote and drew my pain away and that’s how I stayed content. A couple of people liked it and gave me money for it. This motivated me to go to school in the arts. I’m in art college now, 2 quarters from graduation with little hope of finding a stable income. 

When I was 22 I had found out I had done serious damage to my gallbladder and liver due to alcohol and stimulant abuse, and my heart rate became elevated. I had to quit taking my antidepressants and with it came rapid weight gain and severe depression. I’ve been unmedicated for over a year.
In addition when I was 22 I went through a messy breakup. The mother of this person met me and told me point blank that I was not good enough for her son. Point blank told me I was a worthless piece of shit. when I was already feeling bad about what my body was doing. It made me severely depressed for almost a year, with anxiety that literally nearly hospitalized me because of my elevated pulse. I felt dominated and controlled by a person who quite frankly needed and wanted space, and was not controlling me, my depression was. I’ve since patched things up but I won’t ignore the damage that it caused me in this extremely vulnerable state I was in. 
I’ve also been off of my birth control medication - which I need, remember, to control my ovarian cysts - because my primary doctor, who I CANNOT CHANGE due to my location, does not want me on it if I am sexually inactive. Yeah. Fucking bullshit. She put me on metformin (I am not diabetic) but it hasn’t really helped with any of my issues. In addition my health care plan is running out and I have no car to go to the doctor and my doctor guilts me just as much as my family does for weight gain. it’s an abusive experience every time I go visit her.

If it wasn’t for kaible I would have never found a way to finally fucking disconnect myself form that toxic relationship in order to let it heal. So thank you Jamie. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Don’t think you’ve failed because you’re on vacation with your family and you aren’t here to listen to this.  I need to confront my own issues.

I asked my mother who had returned from yet another bender adventure and trip through the hospital if it was okay that I have a little money to buy some pants since I had gained weight, for any interviews I might have soon, which she proceeded to chew me out for and basically call me a fat worthless piece of garbage. She even called me ugly! She told me I make the excuse that I’m ugly to not get a job. My own mother called me ugly and can’t stand me.

She has been telling me to clean my room for years.
My room is a mess and I need help with it. I feel cluttered. I feel the clutter stacking up and suffocating me. I feel like I’m suffocating. 

My family refuses to ever see mental illness and my father has told me that I’m just “making excuses”. I don’t like making excuses but I literally feel that my life is not worth continuing. and that isn’t normal.

I’m drowning in self pity and it’s all anyone ever tells me, quit feeling sorry for yourself, man up, grow up. When I was your age I was this, when I was your age I was that. Stop asking for hand outs. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. 
But I really don’t see the point. All I do is disappoint people. All I do is make people uncomfortable. All I do is continue to exist as this ugly, deformed, disguisting dysphoric being. All I want to do is get a second chance. 

I don’t want to commit suicide. It’s against who I am and my nature.  I’m afraid of hell. I’m afraid of nothingness. I’m afraid of never being the person I want to be someday. 

I don’t know what to do.
I’m writing all this because I am tired of the illusion that I have never been through anything that absolutely sucks and I want people to validate my depression, yes. correct this is a very selfish post
But I also want some legitimacy to the continuation of my existance
and I can only seem to find that when people tell me they want me here.