most people just go

Most of us guessed that Navy would end up betraying everyone by the end of the episode. 

I don’t think most of us expected that having her go from this:

to this:

would be really good for Lapis’ mental health.

And despite certain people’s fears about certain story boarders… this was actually very much in character for her. I think it’s pretty safe to assume that Lapis has always been cynical, even in her pre mirror days. After she escaped she went from cynical to detached and apathetic. Not an unexpected defense mechanism for someone who was trapped in an inanimate object for 6,000 years. But she has made progress. She trusts Steven and Peridot. Enough not only to express her concerns, but to essentially make a confession.

Life on Earth is really confusing. It took me a long time to get use to it. I’m still getting use to it.

Given everything that’s happened to her on Earth, it’s only natural that she’s having a hard time adjusting. But she’s just confessed her biggest insecurity: she knows she’s having a hard time dealing with what she’s been through, while having to get use to to living a normal life on the planet where her greatest traumas happened. Before the rebellion she would have done her job and left for the next planet, Earth having been a distant memory by this time. But now she can never leave. Earth has to become home. 

She wants to move on, but feels guilty about how difficult actually doing that is.

So here comes this I-Insta-Love-All-Things-Earth ruby, who seems freakishly well adjusted from the moment she crashes face first into the planet. Never mind that she was lied to not once, but twice, by the crystal gems. Never mind that she was blasted out into space and abandoned while they stole her ship. All is instantly forgiven and she just wants to be a part of their happy family.

Worse yet? The people Lapis cares most about just buy it. They go right along with it as though Navy’s behavior is perfectly normal. It took time for Lapis to even begin to be okay with the idea of living in Earth and forgiving the crystal gems- she’s still working on it, and it’s painful. She’s worked so hard for every inch of progress she’s made, and here’s someone who’s seemingly able to move on the same day they got to Earth.

I just don’t get it. Why is it so easy for her when it was so hard for me? 

So when the perfectly well adjusted Navy turned out to be a gleeful sociopath  gleefully hell bent on revenge, everything fell into place.

Navy’s sudden but inevitable betrayal was the best thing to happen for Lapis’ mental health to date.

So what’s the take away from this? 1) People react differently to trauma. 2) Just because someone seems well adjusted doesn’t mean they are. 3) It’s okay to take a long time to heal from your traumas. It’s okay for it to be a constant work in progress. It’s okay not to be okay. 

And at the end of the day, that realization can almost feel like happiness. 

i can’t stop thinking about how fucking ridiculous periods are like

we have an internal organ that squeezes out its own lining once a month and we just like

take a painkiller, stuff a wad of cotton up our vagina, and go on with our daily lives

is that badass or what

shoutout to the adhd people who did well in school for years but suddenly crashed and burned when the responsibilities outweighed their coping skills

shoutout to the adhd people who couldn’t finish college

shoutout to the adhd people who do great work but lose their jobs because of poor time managment

shoutout to the adhd people who don’t lose their jobs but can never advance because of their inconsistent performance

shoutout to the adhd people who want more work responsibilities but are afraid of what will happen when they inevitably make a careless mistake or their inattention leads something important to be forgotten

shoutout to the adhd people who have damaged their credit rating by forgetting to pay bills or return library books

shoutout to the adhd people who work their ass off every day but never know if the results will be stellar, average, or terrible

shoutout to the adhd people who have done just well enough to go most of their lives knowing something was wrong, but figuring they just needed to work harder to fix it.

     1. wrath comes so easily to percival; much more so than forgiveness. the nightmares, the scars, the trembling in his hands- perhaps it will all go away when he faces the world with anger instead of fear. and it does. he pours the rage into fire and smoke, and in the blast forgets for just a moment what he’s left behind.

     2. she sometimes wishes she knew not what envy was. keyleth is gentle and doubting; few days go by where she is not quietly jealous of the twins’ confidence and charm, or the easy smiles and bravery of the gnomes. but a leader looks forward, not behind- so she raises her chin and walks, dreaming the whole time of who she should have been.

     3. too many years have passed for scanlan to know who he is without lust. part of him loves it- the pleasure, the freedom, the life that gave him his daughter. but he realises he doesn’t remember all their faces; the people he’s loved and left behind with second thoughts far too late, the mothers that might be and whom he cannot name. 

     4. greed sits with her far too often; at times a shadow, but more often a welcoming hand. it is everything the elven nobles who shunned them had and vex'ahlia did not. as it clinks into her hand, the glinting light of the gold is a wink that promises more than it gives. she smiles, and the metal hangs heavy at her hip. 

     5. he had never understood the word gluttony before. grog’s world before them was so much smaller, so much simpler. life now seemed limitless; and without limit what could one do except want to experience everything? he laughs, shouts, rages in the name of what he deserves- the world is his and his alone. 

     6. there is little that tempts pike more than sloth. each wound she seals with trembling hands, each rag stained with blood, each piece of her heart she begs sarenrae to drag back into this mortal coil; they whisper that it would be so much easier to never care. she receives yet another plea to bring back what has been lost, and hesitates.

     7. pride weaves its words like his blades weave death. even at the depths of his own darkness, vax'ildan finds confidence in who he is. he is spite, he is defiance, he is freedom, he is the plaything of a goddess. he controls his own destiny, even as the strings of fate pull ever tighter. the shadows gather, and he is home. 

                      -some thoughts on vox machina

The Fic Writer’s Beatitudes

Blessed are the readers, for theirs is the archive.

Blessed are the betas: for they help us write the stories we see in our hearts.
Blessed are they that kudo, for they reassure us that someone likes what we’ve done.
Blessed are the rebloggers and reccers, for they help the readers find our work.
Blessed are they which leave comments on a WIP that say something other than “write more please”: for they comfort us when we feel taken for granted.
Blessed are the commenters; for their words bring us joy.
Blessed are the loyal fans, for they keep the fandom alive.
Blessed are the fan artists, for they bring our worlds to life before our eyes.
Blessed are they which read an entire long fic and comment each chapter, for the string of comment notifications fills the writer’s heart with delight.
Blessed are ye, who rec our fics in public and tag us, for seeing that we made somebody squee is the light in our days.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in fandom.

People arguing that the poor shouldn’t have kids and that benefits should be cut from kids in families with “too many kids” are being super obvious that they don’t think of poor people as fully human.  And also that they’re into genocide (it’s not like we live in a world where poverty, deprivation, and lack of access to resources is evenly distributed across all racial/ethnic groups and we all fucking know that).

Rights like being able to have a family, to raise children, to continue our families and cultures are basic parts of human rights that people should be able to choose to engage in (or not, if that’s their preference, but they shouldn’t be coerced not to).

Banning someone from having kids or starting a family or coercing them not to is an incredibly cruel thing to do to someone.  And that’s what people are doing when they suggest poor people shouldn’t have kids.  Rich people and classist assholes act like the choice is between having kids in poverty or having kids not in poverty and that’s just not how things go in reality.  Most people born in poverty will remain in poverty or close to it.  The choice to have kids and start a family outside of poverty is one denied to most people.

And don’t concern troll about the welfare of poor kids if you’re trying to cut their food, housing, education, etc. and if you see them as garbage drains on society.  Concern for poor children is totally fucking unrelated to ruling class desires to control poor people and to victim blame poor people for poverty.

Poor people having kids isn’t what creates poverty, poverty is the result of systematic exploitation and a fucked up inhumane system.  Kids born to the poor are as valuable and human as any other child, and poor people have as much rights to things like having a family as any other human being.

If you need a third character to tell the audience about any possible attraction … because you failed to produce a narrative that would show that …

you done fucked up

Originally posted by marica-callate

You know what’d be grand? if hospitals gave a rundown of what a visit would cost if the NHS wasn’t free. Oooh boy, suddenly all these Tory voting grannies that are living too long and draining the NHS would be out there with placards chanting ‘save our nhs’. 

anonymous asked:

hey! so i'm fairly new too bootlegs and i don't have anything to trade with. how do i start if i have nothing? i don't want to trick someone into giving me something, i want to do it fair and square.

a lot of people are really nice and will try to give you a bootleg you want even if you don’t have anything in return and then you’ll have something to trade in the future!! if you message me off anon im sure we can work something out because i think that everyone should be able to see the shows they really want to 

heres a lil nina who knows that sharing is caring :)

2

I’ll keep the souvenir inside, 
It’s just better in my mind.

To The Moon And Back

A while back @carrie11 tagged me asking if I could write something for this pic. So here you go. Nothing but flufff ahead. 

Mulder is hiding in the kitchen, not touching anything, not even the dirty dishes. With his luck he’d shatter Scully’s favorite plate, or flood the whole apartment. He wishes he could just leave, disappear, but that would be selfish and cowardly. Or would it? He glances at the kitchen table where a bunch of diapers, unused, lie scattered. Scully didn’t say it, never says it, but he’s useless here. Instead of being a father, he is a second baby in need of attention and supervision. Scully doesn’t need this. Or him.

“Mulder?” She walks into the kitchen gently rocking William, who is wearing a diaper three sizes too big for his small form. He’s cooing happily, at least. Scully, hair and clothes disheveled, looks anything but. It’s his fault, of course, and he’d do anything for her right now. “I know I said it was all right but… could you maybe go and buy the right sized diapers after all? It doesn’t really work.” He sees it now on Scully’s shirt. It’s white. Or rather it’s supposed to be. Right now it’s dotted with yellow and brown spots.

“Of course.” He swallows hard.

“I found this,” Scully stops him momentarily in his haste to get away from here. She hands him a piece of cardboard. “Just… these are the diapers. If you can’t find them yourself ask someone.” Mulder takes it and nods solemnly. He considers kissing her, but she turns away from him again before he can. With a sigh, he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

Before he puts the three bags of diapers into his cart, Mulder makes sure they are the right size this time. Ten times. It’s the right one, he is certain. He quickly maneuvers through the aisles, trying not to get distracted again. Who knew it was this difficult to buy diapers. They should use bigger letters and numbers on their front, he thinks. Not cute babies. None of the babies are as cute as William, of course. Yet, staring at these toothless, smiling faces he’d been reminded of his own son back home, safe in his mother’s arms. So no, he hadn’t noticed the age indicator in the corner. All Mulder had seen was a baby that resembled William and he’d bought those diapers without even thinking. Not this time, though. He stops for a moment, checks the size once more, just to be sure. He doesn’t want to face Scully again, see the confusion in her eyes, hear the disappointment in her voice. He can do this. If he can do nothing else, but damn it, he can buy diapers for his son.

When Mulder lifts his head again, he notices that he’s surrounded by baby clothes. Oh oh. He tries not to look at the cute little outfits, but his legs feel like lead as he tries to leave as quickly as possible. Then he sees it, stops without even wanting to. It’s a bib, nothing more. They have plenty of those already. They don’t need any more. They don’t have a bib like this, though. Mulder picks it up, the fabric soft under his fingers, and stares at it. The longer he contemplates buying it, he figures, the later he’ll be back at Scully’s. So he throws it atop the diapers, decision made, and hurries to get back home.

Mulder hears William babbling the minutes he unlocks the door. He grins; the sound his favorite these days. He doesn’t know how he’s lived without it, before.

“Hey.” Scully sits in the rocking chair in the nursery, William against her chest. Her hand is on their restless son’s back.

“Oh hey,” her voice sounds exhausted, as if far away, “you’re back.” Her eyes wander to the bag he’s holding and Mulder shows her that this time, this once, he didn’t screw it up.

“The right ones.” He tries not to sound proud. He should have bought the right ones the first time.

“Can you take him?” Scully gets up with difficulty and hands Mulder the baby.

“Hey buddy.” William’s eyes grow big and he starts kicking his tiny feet joyfully. At least someone’s glad he is around, Mulder thinks.

“I’d like to take a shower,” Scully says shrugging off her robe right there in the middle of the nursery, “can you watch him for ten minutes? Maybe change him into a fitting diaper.” To his greatest surprise, Scully smiles at him. It’s tired and small, but it’s there.

“Sure, we’ll be fine.” He isn’t sure that’s the truth, but Scully believes him, and shuffles off into the bathroom. A few moments later he hears the shower come on.

“All right, buddy. Your mom says you need a new diaper,” Mulder tells William in a gentle voice, quickly undressing him and taking off the diaper. The boy hates the changing table, is much rather upright where he can see the world, his curious eyes always finding something new. “You’ll grow into these one day, Willy boy,” his son squeaks and Mulder nods at him, “I hope your mom lets me stay around long enough to see it. I’m not exactly father of the year, huh?” Mulder quickly puts one of the new diapers on his son, fastens it, and marvels at his accomplishment until William reminds him that he’s still there, too.

“Right. Let’s put your clothes back on. You know, I bought you something today that you’ll love. I hope you do, anyway. You’re half Scully, so I guess skepticism is part of your genetic make-up. But you’re also part me,” Mulder whispers and grins at William, who seems to have forgotten that he’s on the hated changing table, staring up at his father, listening intently to his words, “so I thought you’d like something that’s a bit more out there. I know your mom prefers these plain things saying you don’t know the difference yet anyway, but it’s never too early to start, right?” With one hand on his son’s stomach, Mulder rummages through his shopping bag. He takes out the bib he bought earlier, shows it to William who pushes his tiny arms into the air, trying to grab it.

“No, no. It’s something you wear.” Carefully, Mulder puts the bib around William’s neck. The boy gurgles, kicks his arms and legs. “You like it, huh? Yeah, me too. Looks good on you. I may not be the best, most organized dad around, Will. But I love you so much. More than I ever thought possible. I love you to the moon and back,” Mulder says, leaving kisses on his son’s stomach, who squeals in delight. “I might send you to school without lunch, but I’ll never not answer any of your questions. If your mom lets me, I’ll tell you all about these planets here, the moon and the stars. All of it, William.”

“Even about the aliens, Mulder?” Scully joins them and Will grins when he sees his mother, gurgling his own version of hello. She sneaks an arm around Mulder’s waist, leaning heavily against him. Her hair is still wet, but she smells great and he leans down, kisses her head.

“If you let me.” He whispers into her hair, closing his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I, Mulder?”

“I’m not exactly good at this, Scully. If you haven’t noticed.” She leans away from him, picks up William. She straightens the bib, smiles at it, and Mulder just watches the two people who mean the world to him. Scully looks up at him a moment later and hands their son to him.

“Mulder, you bought the wrong diapers. It’s not the end of the world.” She tells him as she puts on a new pair of pajamas.

“Don’t you remember when I tried to do laundry the other day?” He’d rather not think about it.

“So what? Mulder, you were tired. We’ll be tired for a while. We’ll both make mistakes.”

“You won’t.” She chuckles without looking at him.

“Mulder, you’re the only one who can calm William down when he gets into one of his crying fits. Look at him,” they both glance at their son, asleep in Mulder’s arms, “this only happens when you hold him. You might not be good at shopping, but Mulder you’ve never been good at that. I don’t expect you to be anyone else. You’re a wonderful father.”

“I am?”

“Yes,” Scully whispers, stroking the arms that hold William, “you are. I love the bib you bought, Mulder.” Her fingers trace the symbols on the fabric, the smile never leaving her face.

“You know what, Scully?” He waits until she lifts her eyes, looks at him. “I love you to the moon and back, too.”

She grins, gets on tiptoe, and her lips against his, answers his sentiment with a kiss.  

Assault

Requested: Hi, can you do a imagine that y/n’s assaulted and Shawn comforts and helps her? I understand if isn’t possible! Thank you, have a good day (sorry for my bad English, isn’t my first language) ❤️

Thanks for the request! You don’t have to apologize for your English! It’s great for English being your second language. Hope you enjoy this! Sorry that its short and a little different than you were probably expecting, I’m pretty happy with how it turned out though and I hope you are too :) 

~~~

Shawn’s hand on your waist makes you involuntarily jerk away from him as your heart starts pounding with panic before you can even process that it is just Shawn, and nothing to be afraid of. “Shit, I’m sorry,” He immediately says as he removes his hand from your waist and runs it through his hair instead.

“No, I’m sorry,” You respond quietly, shaking your head, just trying to get all the bad stuff out, just trying to forget it all.

“Can I,” he hesitates for a second as though he isn’t sure if he wants to even ask or not before continuing, “Can I hold your hand?” His eyes are wide with concern and worry. It is a simple request for something he shouldn’t even have to think twice about just doing.

The self-hatred has already started eating you alive. Why did you let it happen? How did you let it happen? You wish you could have done something to prevent it. You wish you hadn’t gone out that night at all. Now your own boyfriend has to ask before he can hold your hand because if not you’ll literally freak out on him, even if you don’t mean to and even though you wish you didn’t. He’s still getting used to that too. He’s not used to having to ask permission for something as simple as holding your hand, or touching your waist when he comes up to you. That used to be something that was so natural, something neither of you ever thought twice about, but now he has to, and you have to hype yourself up just to let him touch you. You have to constantly remind yourself that Shawn would never hurt you.

You nod in response to his question, and he slowly intertwines his fingers with yours, carefully watching your eyes the entire time, making sure you’re not feeling triggered at all. “Sit down with me?” He questions, and you nod, following him to the couch. Once you’re both seated, he starts talking, “Baby, I know I can’t change what happened, and I can’t force you to feel better. I’m not trying to do that, I know you need time to heal, but I just want you to know that I love you. I want you to know that it’s not your fault. None of what happened was your fault, okay?” He says, trying to make sure you understand. He’s already told you this, so many times, but yet, you still find it hard to believe. You just nod in response. You want to believe him, you do, but it’s hard to get out of your head, to not think about the past.

He doesn’t try to pull you any closer to himself, even though he’s a very touchy person, well at least he used to be. He used to always need to touch you, always pulling you down into his lap when he sat down somewhere, always resting his hand on your hip, or throwing it over your shoulder. Now, he wants to touch you, to hold you close, to keep you safe, but he doesn’t.

“I love you.” He says, and even though you know he means it, his voice is full of hurt. Hurt because of what happened to you. Hurt because he feels responsible, even though there was nothing he could have done because he wasn’t even with you when it happened. But most of all, hurt because he knows you’re a different person now, and neither of you are sure you’ll ever be able to find your way back.

Uncle Gerry’s Family Fun Zone

by reddit user Red_Grin

This is a lengthy story but it is worth it:

I didn’t know Will could draw, I remember thinking as my friend’s hand quickly moved across the page. And then I looked more closely at Will’s impromptu sketch, and I immediately regretted it. I tried to unsee it. I shifted my attention to other things around me, anything at all that wasn’t ink on the page: the blur of Will’s hand, the beads of sweat gathering at his temples, the gentle autumn breeze creeping through the crack of the window.

Don’t look at the page. Just don’t look at it.

But I knew I had to. So I looked. And it was worse than I expected. Much worse.

Keep reading

About the ship wars on this fandom (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) ♫・*:.。. .。.:*・

Seriously guys, why don’t you just use your energy and love to create content to your OWN ship(s) and characters you like instead of using it to HATE and talk shit about the others??!!! Please??!! Thank you!!!??

An episode where Pearl meets someone who acts like her could be interesting. Like they use their frail appearance and sad back story to get what they want from people or to stop people from critisizing them. Someone who won’t get over that one crush who moved on.

And at the end Pearl is getting sick of listening to them and either Steven or Amethyst goes ‘But pearl, don’t you do the same thing?’

And Pearl just has a big moment of self realization of what’s she’s done over the years. Her obsession with Rose and behavior against Greg.

It could end with the gems chasing the person away because now everyone’s just annoyed at them, and Pearl just kinda… thinks in the house and doesn’t do anything for a few days/episode because she’s still thinking.

And she starts being more observant when she starts doing her pity stuff and feels angry over Rose, she becomes more hesitant and really starts to think things over.

You know, character stuff that takes a long time to do.

i have a lot of feelings about Grace and Frankie okay