mother these nuts


Inspired by this post, a small fic on Bad Bob just trying to be the best dad he can be. Could also be seen as a companion to Coach. Also on AO3…  

Bob had grown up in locker rooms. The majority of his life was spent surrounded by the sweaty stink of post-game adrenaline, the raucous laughter, the camaraderie. And he loved it… for the most part.

There was the part of it, however, he didn’t like, didn’t particularly care to join in on. Prejudice of any kind had no place in Bob Zimmermann’s heart. When a distasteful joke was made, he retreated into himself. Excused himself to go shower or meet his parents – and later, Alicia.

Alicia was quite vocal many times saying, “If you had been a stereotypical jock I would never have given you the time of day.”

Bob nodded, and didn’t think he was being or not being anything in particular. He just preferred to judge people by their actions and their heart – and nothing else.

Alicia loved his gentle nature, which was a stark contrast to the person he was on the ice. While he was Bad Bob Zimmermann on the ice, off the ice Bob opened doors for little old ladies, he stopped to pet random dogs on the street, he called his parents every Sunday, made corny jokes, and enjoyed cooking for the people he loved.

When Jack came along one hot August morning, Bob held his newborn son as tears flowed freely down his face.

“He’s perfect, Alicia,” Bob murmured as he pressed a kiss onto the baby’s head.

Alicia hummed and closed her eyes, full of exhaustion and bliss.

Keep reading

trans guy leonard mccoy
  • he knew from a young age who he was; he never really related to femininity on any level, even if his overwhelming capacity for compassion occasionally threw the more old-fashioned members of his hometown for a loop
  • mostly he spent a lot of his childhood running around in coveralls and boots; nothing else. drove his poor mother nuts.
  • “leo please put on some real clothes”
  • “look ma, I found a frog!”
  • (sidenote: she’s the only member of the family who’s not surprised when he joins starfleet)
  • her troubles didn’t stop with his sartorial choices, though, since he also tended to lop his own hair off with scissors when it got annoying
  • he hated it that choppy, but so did she–doing it himself was a guaranteed way to get her to agree to let him get a “proper” haircut from one of his cousins, who was going to school to be a hairdresser
  • (@ my fellow southerners–we all have that cousin, right? it’s not just me?)
  • (anyway)
  • bones doesn’t get surgery until he’s out of med school because, well, he’s too fucking busy to be laid up long enough to heal properly, even with regens
  • during that before time, he has a delightful habit of matching his binders to his underwear, and there’s at least a couple holos of drunken college shenanigans that record this fact
  • (somehow, even the delighted grin on jim’s face when he stumbles across them isn’t enough to make bones regret holding on to them)
  • bones also has a significantly less endearing habit of not eating as much as he should
  • used to be that the skinnier he was, the less weight in his hips/breasts/face/etc, and the less dysphoric he felt, but this habit has unfortunately persisted
  • he’s both fully aware of how unhealthy it is and no longer in need of it as a coping mechanism, but he just can’t seem to convince himself to go for more than the bare minimum, even though he loves food
  • (it worries christine, sometimes. she never says it outright, but when jim dumps an extra slice of cake on his plate on the same day bones’s yeoman hands him a sandwich with his paperwork, he knows it’s her doing)
  • he’s a decently old fashioned guy, who also has more than a bit of insecurity on top of a side helping of social dysphoria–he’s too short and too scrawny, and all throughout his teens and twenties, he makes up for those facts with a whole lot of bluster
  • (that, uh. that’s not a habit he’s managed to completely break either.)
  • (obviously.)
  • on the enterprise, he’s the cranky trans elder who can and will yell at you for unsafe binding practices, but he’s also there to be a shoulder to cry on when it’s necessary
  • (and sometimes it’s just necessary, no matter how accepting the twenty-third century is)
  • I said yesterday that genderfluid janice isn’t the one that baby enbys go to when they start to question their gender? somehow, bones is
  • he does not understand this
  • why do they always come to me, spock
  • is there something about me that screams “friendly”
  • can I eradicate it
  • but the fact of the matter is, leonard horatio mccoy was pretty much born to be a dad, and one who gives great advice and better hugs on top of that
  • mid-twenties mid-gender-crisis ensigns–they can smell that from a mile away

The Pyramid Texts advise the king to “descend with Nephthys” in the Barque of the Night, but arise with Isis in the Barque of the Day.

Nephthys speaks and the pathways of the Otherworld are obscured. 

The one being reborn is to “throw off the tresses of Nephthys” like he throws off his mummy wrappings at his rebirth.

She is called Keku, Darkness itself. She is the Lady of the West, she is “in the Cemetery,” she is Lady of the Duat (the Underworld), Mourner and, like her mother Nuet/Nut, she is called “Coffin.”.

anonymous asked:

The fact that Maya genuinely starts think that her mother has a "nut gene" (aka it can be passed down to her) that makes any man at all go from 'i do' to 'what i do' is so 👀 right after ski lodge, like this poor girl honestly thinks that no matter how good or kind or seemingly perfect a guy is, at some point he {lucas} will eventually fall out of love with her and it makes me want to rip my heart out of my chest

Yeah, it was actually very unfortunate (and was a big part of why I was utterly mind boggled by the people who cheered the “real Maya’s return” in SL2 onward.) 

Girl was a wreck. Hope pretty much depleted. Sense of self worth in a very questionable place. She was back to thinking she didn’t deserve good things and that it was better off not to hope for them. I mean…yikes.

But, yeah, I Do coming after Ski Lodge was SO TELLING, man. Really gave good insight into where her character’s head was at towards the end of the non-triangle arc and, while it explained her actions pretty perfectly, it was also very sad to see.

Still think her little monologue to Shawn in the ep was some of the most telling meta bits on the entire show (which is saying something). I mean…they basically told us why lucaya met the fate it did at the end of Ski Lodge:

I know you like me. I like you too. Thanks for everything you’ve ever done for me because it’s perfect. I want it to stay perfect. I don’t want it to not be perfect, so game over. Thanks for playing.

The Mythology of Nut, Mother of Gods

One of the oldest goddesses in Egyptian mythology is Nut, the goddess of the sky and the mother of gods. It was believed that that the sky is, in fact, a star-covered nude woman arched over the earth in a plank or perhaps ‘down-dog’ position.  Due to her supposed role in the regeneration of the sun each day, Nut came to be considered a protector of souls as they entered the afterlife.

for real
  • my mom doesn't let me listen to "sing" in her presence because she's convinced the chorus says "sing it til you nut." mother, i know this band wrote some pretty questionable songs but i really dont think theyre writing about singing til you ejaculate

bellarke fam, why has NO ONE written Henry Tudor VII and Elizabeth of York bellarke fic?

LIKE come on.

what a perfect period piece for them.

imagine this, Clarke as Elizabeth of York…the white princess. Born a princess to smart and savvy Elizabeth Woodville-type, Abby and the King of England, Jake (Edward VI). Her family has been at war with Lancaster (Tudors) for fucking ever and after her father dies her whole world is turned upside down, her position is not secure. Her two brother, the heirs to the throne, are killed. And her uncle takes the throne and declares Clarke and her sisters bastards. She’s a princess without a crown, a ruler with no legacy.


His mother, who tbh is nuts, thinks he was born to be king, that it is god’s will, but the people of England don’t want him. They want Edward’s heir on the throne- Clarke. But it’s history so a woman cannot rule. He’s got a major chip on his shoulder about how much the people hate him and love her.

HOWEVER, Clarke’s mother (ever the brilliant politician) wants Richard to pay for murdering her sons and taking her children’s legacy from them and wants to put one of her children back on the throne. So she promises, against Clarke’s will, her hand in marriage to this Tudor boy, Bellamy.

He doesn’t wanna marry some York girl. She doesn’t want to marry some Tudor pretender. Remember, their families have been at war FOREVER, their entire lives. WAR OF ROSES, FAM. But he knows the nobles of England will not back his claim to the throne without a York beside him. La Clarke.

Abby says Clarke will marry him if he beats Richard.

Against all odds, seriously some crazy odds, Bellamy wins at the Battle of Bosworth. Bellamy murders Richard. He goes to London and meets Clarke.

They are outrageously suspicious of one another. Like who the fuck is this person I have to share MY throne with. On BOTH sides.

Bellamy is an inexperienced leader, an exiled pretender to the throne that she believes has taken the throne by force. Clarke is a “spoiled princess” that has never known real struggle and is beloved by the people where he is only met with mistrust.

They marry to unite their houses- York and Lancaster (ie. Tudor). And their marriage is not a strictly happy one…at first. Lots of shade.

They know no other world than the one that had them at odds.

Bellamy acts like a petulant Bitch. He wants to prove his worth as a sovereign so he does not marry Clarke right away which has some people like HEY BRO WTF WE WANT A YORK QUEEN. He has his coronation without her and is crowned king with no queen. A play of power. Clarke thinks he’s being a baby and showing great weakness by having to flex his muscles. He keeps putting off their marriage because lols he’s “busy running the country”.

Clarke puts Bellamy in his place. “Your claim to England was only legitimized because you said I would be your queen. To England, you are a foreigner aggressor, a conqueror, not its king.”

She’s fierce and fabulous and is handsome to behold. A true York rose- blonde, blue eyed and beautiful.

They learn to know each other a little better after that but they are hardly friends. Allies in the common goal to repair England.

Bellamy and Clarke marry. She wears a red dress, Tudor colors, but it is a clear sign that she is being married off like a harlot, a spoil of war. She’s still bitter af about being used as a pawn in her mother’s political game.

Their wedding night is terrible and awkward and they do their duty but do not speak. Clarke becomes pregnant immediately. Like FREAKISHLY fast.

Bellamy is in awe of her. TBH. He falls in love with her over the period of her pregnancy. She’s regal and generous and when the sweating sickness breaks out because Bellamy’s army is foreign and brings the disease across the sea, she sends money and doctors and aid to the common people. “We cannot let people die if we have the means to save them”.

Cue heart eyes? Oh yea.

Eight months later, she gives birth to a son, Arthur. An heir of both Tudor and York. His birth means the war is really over. Both sides have their heir. He’s small and fragile and both of them are besotted with him.

It’s as a father, Clarke falls in love with him. Bellamy is a stern man and not lavish in the ways that Clarke is. She likes music and parties and art and the finer things. He grew up with nothing in exile and so he is not fond of the revelry of the court. But with their son, he softens. He also sees how art and culture make her happy and (this part is true about Henry and Elizabeth) their court becomes a supporter of the arts. BECAUSE IT MAKES HER HAPPY and he’s about her being happy.

He begins to gift her things. He’s awkward and doesn’t know how to make Clarke see how much he cares about her. In his plain court, she gets new dresses and pretty trinkets. She gets music and parties and they commission art. It’s the renaissance guys but let’s not get into how much love he had for his queen that like he literally became a PATRON OF THE ARTS FOR HIM. This awkward, grumpy gus that has no time for revelry makes their court a comfy place for her.

She tries to thank him for his gifts but every time she brings it up he gruffly responds “it’s nothing, really”.

She loves her grumpy king.

BUT THEY ARE SO BAD AT FEELINGS. Like, okay, they are married and have a kid together and they can’t figure it the fuck out.

Finally, Bellamy makes the ultimate gesture. He has her anointed queen. She could be his wife without being queen. That happened. But he’s gonna make her his fucking QUEEN in the eyes of god and the state. AND LET ME TELL YOU, her coronation is extra as fuck.

After, when they are sitting on the throne together, she takes his hand and he knows. He knows that she understands what he was trying to say.

They are not enemies anymore.

Their marriage bed goes from duty to awkward to passionate. His affection is apparent to everyone in court and they have more children together.

Life goes on better than before. War crops up again and they defeat their enemy together. Life is great, fam.

Years later, their eldest son Arthur dies at fifteen. From sweating sickness. The same disease Bellamy’s army brought with him when he conquered England.

He falls into terrible grief. They both do. But Clarke powers through. In their late thirties, Clarke tells him they are still young and will have another baby in honor of Arthur.

They do. But Clarke and the baby die.

Bellamy locks himself away in his castle. His grieves with his children. First Arthur, now Clarke.

He is in mourning for the rest of his life and never remarries (Henry VII becomes a shadow of himself). And every year on the anniversary of his wife’s birthday he releases hundreds of birds into the London sky.

Until he dies and their son, Henry VIII, has them buried together in Westminster Abbey. Side by side.