jam of appreciation

“Gillian and I are not as close as Mulder and Scully, but who could be? Nobody is as close as Mulder and Scully.

"We worked together for so long that by the time the series ended we had enough of each other. But six years having passed, it’s like – I don’t make jam, but I’m assuming you pour away the boiling liquid – so after six years the liquid is all boiled off, and all that remains is the jam of appreciation.”

DD, My Park magazine, Aug 2008

Talk fantasy prosthetics to me.

An elf maiden dances on feet of living wood sung into shape, planted in soil and watered when she takes them off. Every year she plants the old ones and sings a new pair. (Incidentally, the pair of peach saplings from three years ago have produced an excellent crop- She makes preserves from them, and despite the inevitable jokes about “toe-jam”, they are appreciated.)

A dwarf king has a metal fist, all tiny gears and fine wires, kept wound by a mischievous mine-spirit bound to the spring as punishment- the more it struggles, the tighter the spring. 

An orc chieftaness is regularly asked for the story of how she earned the name Wyrmthrottler- she boasts of how she strangled the dragon that ate her arm, and had her shaman make a new arm from its bones, with its fangs as the fingers.

A necromancer simply re-attached his old leg bones- Sacrificing a few mice each day keeps it going.

A pirate captain lost her arm to a shark attack: a passing selkie saved her, and gave her tattoos of kraken blood. Now she has an arm made of salt-water, that grows and wanes with the tides, and swings a cutlass as well as the original. (She doesn’t sail as far these days though: she doesn’t want her wife to worry.)

A wandering swordsman was broken at the waist- his ancestral armour allows him to walk again, as long as he keeps it polished, and burns incense to the ancestors regularly.

A high priestess has an eye made from a crystal ball- to predict the future, all she has to do is wink.

A bard was struck deaf by illness- he struck a deal with the god of music. Now he wears hearing-trumpets made from his old pipes, and dedicates his every song to the god of music- the better he plays, the better his hearing. (It is said his music could make statues weep, and he can hear a mouse fart at 60 paces.)

A princess has the arm of a golem, enchanted clay with mystic words carved in- her music tutor despairs of how her harp playing has become even worse, but her calligraphy tutor is ecstatic over her handwriting.

A goblin pickpocket has an arm made of whatever he steals- no-one feels his fingers, and even if they did, they couldn’t find their possessions amongst all the rest.  

A witch has eyes made from shadow and starlight, given to her in a game with a demon. Nobody dares to ask what she wagered- they aren’t even sure she won.

A warg was born deaf and blind- his people learned of his power when the nearest birds started staring at them, and dogs pricked up their ears as he walked past.

Heyyyyy guys. If I could go to each of you individually and thank you for making the last two years of tumblr as good as it’s been, I would. Well, okay, I guess I could, but that would take an unreasonably long amount of time so this will just have to do. Thank you all who have been so lovely! Maybe this won’t mean anything to most of you, and that’s fine, but (if you know me) you know I had to say something. So this doesn’t get too long I think I’ll be doing some flashback posts throughout the week (because the week I started this was a GOOD one in our fandom) and I want to reflect on those days, especially as we enter another exciting time!

I’m a bit BEEhind on posting but that’s okay BEEcause…have some BEES!

Well one bee, and his family.

Next in the Johtodex are more bugs and everyone’s favorite angry stabby poison bug family, the Beedrill line!  While Butterfree has always been more my jam I can still appreciate Beedrill’s great design.  Also I like Kakuna better than Metapod because it looks like it has hands that are lifting up his skirt.

Being Mary Watson was the Only Life Worth Living

Mary Watson lived on the edge of her dreams. Being with John, having Rosie and having Sherlock as one of her friends was most likely the best part of her life.

On the one hand she yearns for the adventure part of her old life but there is still that excitement there with John and Sherlock. She also likes the domesticity of being with somebody who she loves and who loves her back. She’s never allowed that to happen to her before, so being with John makes her feel complete. 

But, she had a past. She had made questionable choices in her past. She even shot Sherlock because she was struggling hard to achieve this dream life.

I suppose I was always afraid this might happen. That something in my past would come back to haunt me one day.

I’m sorry for… for shooting you that time. I’m really sorry.

She had always felt guilty. She didn’t think she deserved this life. It is her core belief that she wasn’t perfect and she did not deserve happiness.

Because you won’t love me when you’ve finished. 

Is ‘Mary Watson’ good enough for you? Yes! Oh my God, yes. 

God, I just wanted a bit of peace, and I really thought I had it.

You’re always a good man, John, I’ve never doubted that. You never judge, you never complain. I don’t deserve you, I… 

Do you think she’ll like bedtime stories? Well, I’ll have to give that a go. Got a lot to catch up on.

She inherently put herself up as the expendable one once she knew Ajay was targeting her.

It’s all right. It’s for the best, believe me. You just look after them till I get back. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

I need to move the target far, far away from you and Rosie, and then I’ll come back, my darling.

All I ever wanted to do was keep you and Rosie safe, that’s all.

She again did not hesitated putting herself up as the bullet shield for Sherlock. Deep down she believed she was not good enough, that she never did deserve the life she was living, that Sherlock, John and Rosie could have a better life with her gone.

You don’t make it easy, do you? What do you mean? Well, being… being so perfect.

And if I’m gone, I know what you could become. Because I know who you really are.

Her death was ultimately her choice – a choice she thought was the best.

It was her choice, no-one made her do it.

No-one could ever make her do anything.

That, is our Mary Watson.

Bangtan on daddy mode

Hey you guys! It’s another day and yet another post which is suppose to ruin your life. You’re welcome.

Hoseok ver.  Yoongi ver.  Namjoon ver.  Taehyung ver.  Jungkook ver.  Seokjin ver.

I swear he’s the Devil and in that case

Originally posted by mvssmedia

I want to be damned. Taehyung in the back tho.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Just look

Originally posted by jiminsjiminie

at those

Originally posted by sugeydarlyn


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Okay, but seriously now.

Originally posted by theholyshiteu

This is very no fun Jimin, no.

Originally posted by 9taefox


Originally posted by chokemejimin

I cry.


Medieval AU x Social Media presents: AU/Canon Divergence where a tourney was held in Winterfell coinciding with the celebration of the harvest in the Seven Kingdoms. Ser Jaehaerys “Jon” Targaryen accompanied his mother Lady Lyanna from Dragonstone to visit their kin in the North. Upon meeting the Starks, Ser Jon’s eyes were caught by the eldest daughter of his Uncle Ned, Lady Sansa Stark. Learning from that night’s feast that the lady fancied stories about knights in songs, Ser Jon opted to join the jousting on the morrow in the hopes of catching her attention, and to crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. The knight did emerge victorious but couldn’t follow through with his plan of giving the crown of winter roses to Lady Sansa, not when his hands were obviously shaking as his nerves got the better of him. So he gave the wreath to his lady mother and left the stands, feeling quite the fool. Later that afternoon however, Lady Sansa has aked him if he wanted to be shown around his mother’s childhood home (and the knight didn’t want to presume, but was that a blush dusting the lady’s cheeks?); Ser Jon easily accepted, not wanting for another opportunity to get to know her pass him by.

refs (x, x)


Therefore do not bend, Ancalimë. Once bend a little, and they will bend you further until you are bowed down. Sink your roots into the rock, and face the wind, though it blow away all your leaves.

Gong Li as Tar-Ancalimë, First Ruling Queen of Númenor—the daughter of Tar-Aldarion and Erendis, and successor to the throne. Her mother’s tragic married life influenced Tar-Ancalimë’s future rejection of her husband, as well as her policy regarding Númenor’s relationship with its colonies in Middle Earth.

Ancalimë was succeeded by her son, Tar-Anárion. She died in year 1285 of the Second Age, after a rule of over two centuries.

(part of the series YOU LOOK UPON A WOMAN, a project which reimagines Tolkien with a cast of women of color)

There are five per cent of viewers who absolutely hate Mary and wish that she be tortured and die horribly,” reflects Amanda, 42, “because she’s come between Sherlock and John. But actually, she brings them together. She wants them to go off on adventures. But it’s been nice for me this series because Mary gets to do lots of different things. Of course, I first read the script thinking: ‘Please don’t let me die.’ Then you get to the end of the episode and you’re like: ‘Thank God, she’s still here!’ I love playing Mary. She’s a fantastic character and, particularly in this series, you get to understand her a lot more.

mark in hard carry mv (meme7 version 3/7)