ok this is the last one then!

2

rangimarie submitted:

My favorite crazies.

Ok, first things first: Rose. My child. My ‘may need a restraining order’ child. I love her,,,,

Second: THANK YOU AND THIS BLOG FOR EXISTING!! I LOVE THIS BLOG SO FRIKN MUCH, I’M SO GLAD IT WAS CREATED!! My sister first introduced me to you last year, (I had a different account that is sadly gone now) and I’m very grateful she did!!! This blog made me laugh alot, especially the posts with john????

Third: Eridan & VAAASka. I know in this timeline (?) they arn’t a thing, and Eridan and sollux are moirails. But I saw that one post with Eridan and VAAASKkA and I viewed them as each other’s support, (also because I really ship erisol and I want to slap a matespritship on them instead)))) but that’s not the point. They seem like “sad"people that need to help eachother.
I’m also looking at a duck rn, not sure if that was relevant, but I just felt like I needed to say that????

((I’m so very happy you love these babies almost as much as I do >:^> they mean so much to me. tell your sis that she’s a cool cucumber for introducing you to the wonderful world of oppoopsitestuck! and dont let go of that EriVris moirail headcanon just yet ;> ))

APWOA: Chapter Six

This is the sixth chapter of A Penny’s Worth of Affections, my Claire / Jamie AU that takes place during WWI!

Ok so I said last time that I would write this chapter more ahead of time, but I am a total liar. Sorry about your long wait, but I did try to make this a little bit longer to make up for that; I hope it was worth the wait!!  

If you’re interested in listening to the two songs that inspired the last chapter and this one, you can listen to them here and here!

Shoutout to @internallydeceased for dealing with my ramblings (and that one moment where I started freaking out because I couldn’t find a voyager quote that I never ended up using) you’re the bomb.com and I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. as well as @bonnie-wee-swordsman who is not only my outer conscience but a great friend; she is just a lovely human being all around and thank you so much for being you! 💛

Seeing as this one is longer than the others, I’m going to cut it a bit early in the chapter, so that it doesn’t get too long on the dashboard. I hope you guys like this chapter, and be sure to let me know what you think. ✨

Previous entries:
Prologue: A Penny ; I. The Red Man ; II. The Blue-Stockings ;
III. Heroic Acts and Twisted Scars ; IV. The Intensity of a Flame ; V. Heartlines


VI. LANGUAGES OF THE HEART

Edinburgh, Scotland

16th June 1914

It was when dawn broke that morning that Claire Beauchamp realized what she had gotten herself into. Traveling with Jamie had not been an unusual juncture—he had taken her many places since their first meeting; these destinations, however, were no more than a few miles from Edinburgh. The where wasn’t what had her sweating profusely as she ran about her room, trying to pack a reasonable amount of items for the venture of the next few weeks. It was the who.

  Jenny Murray, as well as her husband, Ian, were two very prominent figures in Jamie Fraser’s life. He spoke of them daily, telling stories about their relationships with one another. She knew so much about the three of them, in adolescence as well as adulthood, that she felt as if she was an outsider, intruding in on some secretive circle of small-town Scottish folks. Sassenach, indeed.

  Jamie had come to the Inn around noon, taking all of her possessions in his hands and bidding her uncle farewell. Claire also said goodbye to her uncle, kissing his cheek and smiling widely at him. And with that, the pair walked arm-and-arm to the train station. The hustle and bustle around them eased Claire’s nerves a little bit. Jamie noticed her unfocused gaze and smiled slightly, tightening the arm that was looped around her own.

  One of the times he had gone over to the Inn, Uncle Lamb had teased Claire for her unassociated behavior. He had called it then her wandering Wendy gaze, because every time she got this glazed-over look in her eye, Lamb had known she was thinking of the lives of those around her.

  “She likes to insert herself into other situations when she’s under great duress,” Lamb had told Jamie then, leaning forward so as not to catch Claire’s attention. The lady in question was standing by the window, one arm crossed over her torso with the other’s elbow resting on top if it, her fingers pulling at the plumpness of her bottom lip. “When wandering Wendy comes to town, you’ll know it. But I’ve learned, in my experience, that she isn’t aware that she does this. She’s in some kind of dream-like trance, you see.”

  Jamie had nodded, but Lamb wasn’t quite finished. “Have you heard that you’re never supposed to wake a sleepwalker? The same applies in this instance: if you see Claire in this state, you must not try to wake her from her stupor. She usually ends up with more anxiety than she had before Wendy took over. Do you understand?”

  “I do,” Jamie had said solemnly, glancing back over to Claire’s still form by the window.

  Who was she thinking about? He had asked himself presently, watching as she glanced from person to person as if they were apparitions: not truly there, but floating past her on an invisible breeze.

  She followed him into the train willingly, as if she was a dog on a leash, following its owner from one place to the next. Jamie, upon entering their car and making sure their luggage was in the correct overhead compartment, reached for Claire’s cheek. Her eyes were still glazed-over, eyelids fluttering as if she was trying to protect them from something.

  “Who were ye thinking of, Sassenach?” Jamie asked her when she came-to. He didn’t bother sitting beside her on the seat, nor across from her in his own. He was kneeling on the floor, right at her feet, moving his hands to rest just at her knees. “Was it the Lady again?”

  Claire shook her head. “No, I haven’t thought about her for… a long while. I was just thinking about what your sister is like. I’ve heard so much about her.”

  He sensed the underlying fear in her tone, and bid her to continue.

  “It’s nothing, really. Just silly juvenile thoughts,” She dismissed his prodding, meeting his eyes with a smile on her lips that she hoped was reassuring.

  Shaking his head as he took her hands into his own, his eyes softened from steely sapphire to blue silk. “Claire, I must ask something of you.”

  “Anything.”

  Despite his previous statement, he didn’t start with his request. “I understand that this is strange for ye, coming wi’ me to some place that you’ve never heard of, being ‘round people that are so verra different from you. But remember that I am here with ye; you needn’t be scairt of anyone, so long as I’m with ye.”

  She nodded as she looked down at her lap. Their hands had assumed their usual rhythm as she massaged his weaker hand, loosening the kinks and softly cracking his knuckles.

  “But also,” he added, voice heavy with emotion, “You needn’t be afraid of me, either.”

  Looking up from their woven hands, her expression changed to confusion. Her eyebrows drew closer together, the smooth spot in between them creasing deeply. “Who said I was afraid of you?”

  He shook his head, “I’m no’ saying that ye’re afraid of me, Sassenach. I just want you to know that I’ll no’ judge ye, no matter what you tell me. I respect you enough to not pass any judgements on your thoughts, should ye be brave enough to tell me.”

  Claire suspected something was off. “Jamie, what’s wrong? Is there something on your mind?”

  A brief silence overcame them as he stared at their entwined hands. Claire, still kneading his fingers with her own, followed his gaze to his left middle finger, where the lightning scar ran down the middle of it.

  “Before I tell ye this, Claire,” he said after a moment, “I need you to understand that ye won’t see me in the same light ye always have. And that if you wish to depart after all is revealed, I willna stop ye.”

  She squeezed his hand tight, bringing his scarred finger to her lips and placing a soft kiss in the space between his distal and middle phalanxes, right where the bolt of lightning rested on his opal skin. “I can tell you now, James Fraser, my feelings for you will not change. For as I know you now, I’m sure whatever you had done was within good reason.”

  The corner of his mouth turned upward into a smile. Running his thumb over her knuckles, he took a deep breath and began regaling her in his tale.

  It was near to four years ago now. Jamie, in the prime of his adolescence at age sixteen, was still living at Lallybroch with his family. His mother, Ellen, had been pregnant and was nearing the end of her third trimester, growing weaker and weaker by the day. She needed medicinal aid, and with the family being too poor to afford a physician, Brian sent Jamie to obtain it. (As Jamie told her this, Claire made a mental note to research puerperal fever more in-depth, since the symptoms Jamie had described gave her the idea that this had been Ellen’s ailment.)

  He had travelled on horseback to a town a bit far from where they dwelled, close to Fort William (where, Jamie described, English officers still lingered to this day). Brian had told Jamie to obtain the medicines by whatever means necessary, and to Jamie this meant to steal them. So he waited in the wood until nightfall, snuck into the apothecary’s shop, and grabbed an assortment of different vials, unsure of their contents.

  With a bag full of vials on his back, Jamie wandered back into the wood, before being spotted by an officer of the police force. He tried to run from him then, but instead was captured and taken to Fort William. It was there that Jamie had made the acquaintance of one Jonathan Wolverton Randall (who had also gone by the name Black Jack, as she would find out a while later).

  The way Jamie talked about the officer sent chills up her spine. After the fourth or fifth time Jamie had attempted to escape, Randall had decided that the best thing to do would be to essentially destroy his left hand. Seeing as Jamie was left handed, this gave Randall the mindset that if he didn’t have his dominant hand, he could no longer successfully escape. (What a fool, Claire had thought, but didn’t state this comment aloud.) Randall took a nail and drove it into Jamie’s hand with a mallet, nailing him to the table of which he sat. And for a few days, Jamie just sat at the table, staring at his mangled hand. But instead of feeling sorry for himself, he decided he needed to get back to his mother and be with her while he still could.

  One night, while Randall was God knows where, Jamie pulled the nail out of his hand and escaped from the prison, this time being successful. Upon arriving back at Lallybroch a few days later, he was able to see his mother one last time. She, along with the child, had died the night he returned, early in the morning while everyone else was asleep.

  Feeling as if her death was his own fault, Jamie had fled to Edinburgh to stay with his godfather, Murtagh, where he had been ever since.

  “I haven’t seen my family for four years now.” He added, their hands still joined in Claire’s lap. Jamie had moved beside her now, the two of them squished together on the small bench. His closeness left Claire’s heart fluttering in her chest, but she did not act on the multiple impulses that rushed through her body. This was no time for juvenile affections. “My father passed away a year or so ago, from a stroke. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jamie,” She murmured, removing one of her hands from his grasp and resting her palm on his cheek. He leaned into it, like a cat being pet behind the ears. For a moment, she thought she heard a purr forming deep in his throat.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for, Sassenach. I’m no but a fool, and a man escaping his past.” He cleared his throat and pulled his own hands from her own, grasping at her wrist tightly. “Do you still see me the same, Claire? Am I still worthy of your affections?”

  “Jamie,” she said forcefully, putting her other hand on the opposing cheek. “From what you’ve told me, you were doing something you thought was right. Maybe not through the best means, but you were trying to save your mother.”

  A moment of silence passed, the only thing filling the empty void was the sound of their heartbeats, drumming together in unison.

  “If anything,” she finally said, scooting closer towards him. “The light from which you shine is much brighter now than it had been before.”


The train ride from Edinburgh to Broch Mordha came and went quickly, mostly due to the fact that Claire slept through the majority of it. After their heart-to-heart, and a brief kissing of cheeks and the wiping of tears, Claire had nestled her head onto Jamie’s shoulder, where it stayed until they had arrived at their destination. And upon getting everything packed into the buggy that Jenny sent for them, they had resumed that position. Jamie, who hadn’t bothered to sleep (for he wasn’t tired in the slightest), decided instead to talk to Claire in her sleep, telling her stories from his youth in the Scottish Gaelic. But after a short while, when he knew her to be too deep in her own dreams to hear him, he started speaking the language of his heart. No barriers would form between them as she slept in his arms.

  Claire had woken a little while into his fervent speech, but decided not to let it be known that this was so. Instead, she nestled closer into his side, trying to keep her breathing even as she listened to the words she didn’t understand. Despite this, however, she knew that she hadn’t heard anything so beautiful in her entire life.

  They neared their destination some hours later. When Jamie had finished his speech and started gazing out the window, Claire decided to voice an inquiry that had been swirling in her mind since the words left his lips.

  “Jamie?” She asked him groggily, running a hand over one of her eyes, feigning drowsiness. “What does mo sorcha mean?”

  Shocked, Jamie turned to face her. Trying to compose himself, instead of asking how she knew he had said that, he smiled shyly as a crimson blush rose to his cheeks.

  “Well, in Gaelic, sorcha means light. That’s your name, ken; it means light, does it not?”

  “Yes, but what about the first part? The mo.”

  His blush grew ever darker. “Well, that means my.”

  My light, she thought to herself. Her eyes welled with tears. “Your light?”

  He nodded, eyes shining brightly. “You are my light, Claire. A shining beacon in the dark sea of my life.”

  “You should write poetry,” she laughed. “Since you speak of such a metaphor.”

  “I do,” he confided in her. “Sometimes.”

  “Would you ever read one to me?”

  Smiling, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles again. That was one of his favorite things to do, she noted, rubbing his thumb over the bumps on her hands. “Someday.”

  They finally arrived to Lallybroch some time later. Jamie got out first, helping Claire before grabbing her belongings. They started towards the house before realizing someone was watching them. A woman, standing barely to Jamie’s shoulder, stamped quickly towards them, eyes lit in a dark blue flame. Claire noted how regal she looked, despite her short stature, with dark hair pulled into an elegant updo and an outwardly bulging stomach as she was well within her third trimester. The look in her cat-like eyes could kill anyone who dared cross her, and right now, the look was pointed directly at her brother.

  “Where in God’s name have ye been, ye clotheid?!” Janet Fraser Murray demanded angrily. Claire, from her spot standing behind Jamie’s shoulder, thought that if she had gotten any angrier, she might have her child right then and there.

  Jamie, unsure of how to defend himself, said back to her in a soft voice, “I understand that ye’re mad at me, Jenny—”

  “You bet yer arse I’m mad at ye, James Fraser! I dinna see yer face for four years, heard nothing of you but brief testaments on parchment of yer health and well being, only to see you bring along some woman to our ancestral home! You are bloody damn right I’m angry with ye!”

  Claire, unsure whether her presence here was discussed or not, took a step backward towards the buggy, muttering, “Maybe it’d be best if I left…”

  “No, Claire, stay.” Jamie begged, dropping the luggage in his hands and grabbing her wrist, pulling her to his side. “My sister is upset wi’ only me, and shouldna take her fury out on you.”

  Jenny, nostrils flaring, took a deep breath and turned to Claire, nodding in acknowledgement. “Claire, ye said?”

  “That’s right,” Claire nodded, extending her hand towards the angry woman. “Claire Beauchamp, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from your brother.”

  She raised an arched eyebrow skyward but nodded once more, taking Claire’s hand in her own and shaking it promptly. “It’s a pleasure to meet ye, Claire.”

  The noise of the door opening and closing pulled everyone’s attention away from the matter at hand. A man came towards them, wiping his hands on his trousers and smiling broadly.

  “Jamie, lad! Welcome home!” The man said, pulling Jamie into an embrace. Claire smiled at the joy on Jamie’s face at seeing his brother-in-law, but promptly dropped it as she looked back to his sister, whose alabaster face was still shrouded in anger.

  Pulling out of the embrace with his brother-in-law, Ian smiled at Claire politely before picking up some of their bags and making his way to the house. “Why don’t we get ye two settled in, aye? Dinner should be set soon enough.”


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Allow me to clarify, because context is hard: you cannot legally enforce a contract clause that requires someone to hide their sexuality in the UK. Please do not argue that "if it's effective we wouldn't know about it". We know about NDAs, we know about super injunctions, we know about various financial dealings; ALL of which have been challenged in court and yet somehow in the entire course of UK history no one has ever gone to court to fight against being contractually closeted.

OK, but by your logic there are two possible reasons for your last statement:

(1) It has never happened and so no one has ever needed to try to enforce this law,

OR

(2) No one has ever brought an enforcement action because they know there is no basis upon which they can state a claim.

I mean, I know I live in a more litigious world than most, but the idea that a claim has never been brought on a plausible cause of action because industry has been kind enough to acknowledge they shouldn’t do something and not do it seems to be a bit of a reach. On the other hand, no lawyer taking on a claim that they know has no basis (because they could be sanctioned for failing to bring a colorable claim) seems very plausible.

Using your logic here, there are lots of things that are illegal in contracts that people have taken to court and won verdicts on. These things are explicitly illegal – underpayment, gender discrimination, whatever. Industry still does it, employees sue, employees win, industry is punished. But this one illegal thing, just this one, no one has ever sued on. Because industry decided this was the one illegal thing they wouldn’t do, even if they believed it to be profitable for them. I’m sorry, but no matter how snarky you are with me, this argument is unpersuasive.

Another point you’re not getting: why is the UK law different than any other non-discrimination/equality law? It’s worded the same as most U.S. non-discrimination policies. We share a common law. (While the precedent diverged in the 18th century, the foundations are the same and it has developed largely in parallel). Why is that specific law the supposed basis for your argument? Yes, they signed the original contracts in the UK, but they also signed numerous contracts (especially with Columbia) in the US over the years.

feysand17  asked:

Got any Rhys x Lucien headcannons

I don’t ship them in a healthy loving relationship way, in case that was unclear, i ship them as an overinvolved performative hatefuck, so that makes “headcanons” abt them a little… not as cute as ship headcanons usually are. 100% of the delight of this ship is that they’re both snarky assholes with hearts of gold, but Lucien is Captain No Chill who gets up in arms about every little goddam thing and Rhys is High Lord of Being A Little Shit and Pissing Everyone Off so together it’s like holy shit, Lucien’s constant low-level anger could power a small country.

with that established, headcanons:

  • After the first time they fuck, Lucien is like “THIS IS A ONE TIME THING ONLY” and Rhys is like Mhm ;) and then after the next time they fuck lucien is like “OK THAT WAS IT THAT WAS THE LAST TIME” and Rhys is like whatever you say babe and then after the third time Lucien is like “I’M SERIOUS WE’RE NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN” and Rhysand is like right. ok. sure. and then after the next time….
  • I’m SO into Rhys finding some way to sexually humiliate Lucien in the court of nightmares. think slutty outfits, heathen rituals, Rhys publicly groping him and Lucien can’t say shit because etiquette/politics or whatever.
  • Rhys finds out Lucien likes to have his hair pulled, to Lucien’s chagrin-but-not-really as then Rhys predictably, gleefully exploits the hell out of it.
  • Lucien always complains about the perfunctory post-coital cuddling (“your elbow is digging into my side.” “your chest is too hard, it’s not comfortable.” “For cauldron’s sake, you’re like a furnace and I’m hot already, stop trying to hold me.” ) and it’s 10000% just compensating for how embarrassed/ mad at himself he is about the fact that he just had sex with Rhys AGAIN and clearly really enjoyed himself. Rhys knows all this and finds the complaining endearing in its predictability.
  • They sometimes accidentally approach emotional intimacy (lucien develops a ~suspicion that there’s ~more to Rhys~ than the Wicked Dark Prince act) but they’re both babies abt it so there is one comically ineffectual attempt to DTR (define the relationship) and then they just give up and snark and fuck and that’s the extent of it.
  • Rhys is usually pretty Collected and Smug about the whole affair but later on he starts seriously getting on Lucien’s case about hanging out with Tamlin ( “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty, Lucien” “You’re literally inside me right now, can we have this conversation some other time??”). It causes petty bitchy fights that often turn into more fucking.

Ok but like, It’s been days since he last saw the kid (assuming he did while in LA, following narrative), months since he mentioned or posted things about him, the articles aren’t talking about, his family doesn’t care and is shading like crazy… Why they don’t just end it? Just you know, do it, at this point no one will even bat an eye

A day in the life of Sam's inbox, part two

11:35 AM: Hi baby bro i’m on my way home from the hunt r u at the motel?

12:01 PM: Sam u should really put those panties on that we bought last month ;)

12:05 PM: And maybe that plug u picked up back in NV

12:06 PM: The black one, just in case u were wondering

12:45 PM: I’m only texting when i am at a red light btw

12:52 PM: I miss u and can’t wait to see u cause i think u r so sexy

12:53 PM: Ok, that one was a little corny but it’s true

12:56 PM: I’m stopping at the store to get salad for u i know u like rabbit food

1:01 PM: I luv u Sammy, see ur cute ass soon

part one

anonymous asked:

I think you should let first place choose what they want and what they don't (this is how most giveaways ive seen done it) then you split the rest for second and third place if there is any left.

Hrrrmmm…..Maybe…. But then what if whoever’s in first wants everything anyway or only leaves one thing ( •᷄ὤ•᷅) 

There’s 14 things total counting the slime and chew necklace, so what if I say first place can pick 6 things, then second place can pick 4 things from what’s left, then third place gets the last 4 things?

Ok! Either that, splitting everything up the way I said before in this text post, or the original plan of no second/third place! Which sounds the best to y’all?

depression is so weird.

last summer was one of the worst patches of depression i’d ever been through. i found myself thinking suicidal thoughts so casually and so frequently - it started to really freak me out. my thoughts would get so dark and, ugh, it was truly horrible.

so i went on medication. for a while, i felt like the “depressed” part of me was replaced with boredom. i wasn’t sad or hoping to die, i just kind of didn’t know what to do with that time. then i kind of got out of that and just felt Okay. and feeling Okay was honestly wonderful.

the past two months, i’ve been in another weird rough patch. but it’s not intense - its just like, drawn out and it feels heavy. like walking around with a heavy blanket on you, or like something is sitting on your chest. it almost feels worse because its so intensely undefinable. i’m just slightly uncomfortable, my focus is bad, i’m constantly extremely sleepy, and i’m lazier than i’ve maybe ever been.

i have no real point to this. its just so strange, the different ways depression can manifest. and the anxiety on top of it ! what a dream life is!!

Sam’s Peace

Ok, this one is much better.  I deleted that last post, sorry if you already read it, I was feeling particularly shitty.  I decided this one would be much better for everybody!


 Sam hasn’t really felt peace for years.  He’s had moments, of course.  Little pockets of treasured time.  He was beginning to think he’d never feel it again.  Actually, he accepted that he would never feel it again.

So the fact that he was experiencing this moment of peace - and the fact that he had felt truly peaceful for almost an entire week, filled his eyes with tears.

Everything was going right. He sat on the ground, leaning against a tree, watching the stream trickle by in front of him.  It was very quiet out here.  He liked that.

The whine broke the silence, but it only made Sam smile more.  He reached down and patted the head of the small, furry creature at his feet.

“You ready to go home then? Alrighty, Monster.  I’d call that a good walk.” Sam straightened up, picked up the leash and walked back to the bunker, his new best friend beside him.


I gave Sam a dog!

Sam Supporters :)

@malicezero @crossroadsangelcastiel @legosandanarmyman @superwholocklotr95 @agent-superwholockian @goodnitejerk  @hannahindie @sille1992 @pieandzombies @destielmixtape @burnbrightest @electronictacocollection @supernatural-visuals @ravenangel33

3

I was tagged by the wonderful @smuttine to do the phone meme: post my lock screen, last selfie and last song I listened to. Thank you so much! <3 I’m just a bit worried about the selfie part hehe

OK, so how come there is no Solas here? Both my lock screen and background are from Fallout New Vegas, I just love fallout themes too much :) But I can tell you in secret that there is quite a bit of Solas and DAI in my slideshow screensaver :P

Then there is the scary bit, I don’t take selfies, ever, because no matter what I always look like a witch with a long nose :P but here it is, one I took today at work. So now you know… and now I will run away and hide. 

And the last song I listened to was Nothing Else by Archive

I would like to tag @theblackdomino @love-in-nature @diagk @thevikingwoman @lindiedraws @galadrieljones @the-emerald-halla @flightofthedragon @lisutarid-a @littleblue-eyedbird @tel-abelas-mofo @ imthedreadwolf @capricorn-sunny  but of course don’t feel forced to anything :) @kejj I saw you phone excuse already so I will not press you :P

TalesFromRetail: Can you tell me how much a book costs?

Customer comes in 1 minute before closing. Following ensued.

Me: hi, how can I help you?
Him: can you tell me how much a book I got here costs? I’m doing my taxes and need a receipt.
Me: sure, what book?
Him: I dont know. Physics?
Me: ok, when did you buy it?
Him: last summer sometime? Or maybe fall?
Me: ooookay, how did you pay?
Him: my credit card. Oh, and I got it at -other store 60 miles away-
Me: well, I can’t find a receipt without any information unless I look through ten thousand transactions one by one from over a year ago,which is impossible. I also can’t look up receipts from other stores.
Him: are you sure?
Me: I’m sorry. Anything else I can help you with?

Didn’t know what book, when he bought it, or apparently where he bought it. Last year. That’s not much to go on. That’s nothing to go on mate.

I hope he didn’t do his taxes himself. Poor guy seemed confused.

By: celephia

anonymous asked:

I wish you'd write a fake married/fake dating with BED SHARING rumbelle au (OK LAST ONE I'M SORRY AGAIN)

OH GOD DUDE ME TOO! The one trope that (criminally) I have never written, but I did (at least unrequitedly) actually experience once - the bed sharing, not the fake dating xD. I wrote fake dating in Chaparone, but since I haven’t touched it in over a year I still have no idea if/when that’s going anywhere. 

The bed sharing AU will happen. I just gotta find a scenario I like enough to use it :D

Until then, I recommend @rowofstars‘ Upon Reflection and @thatravenclawbitch‘s The Future’s So Bright, for a+++ Rumbelle bed sharing, and Raven’s Little White Lie for BOTH TROPES IN ONE!!!  I’m also actively seeking recs, if anyone else has any for either/both of these tropes - I love them so, and I’ve forgotten all the other good fics I could remember that include them! 

TMI Tuesday Wednesday!

pomini-puttana  asked:

🎶 🎤

Aahh, thank you for this fun but EXTREMELY DIFFICULT question. Let me do some thinking…

Ok, here’s what I came up with.


🎤 - Top 5 favorite bands?
This is really, really difficult, but I’m going to go with what I’ve loved for ages and keep coming back to:
Led Zeppelin
Fleetwood Mac
Prince (he’s was a one-man machine)
RHCP
We Are Scientists (I fucking love these guys, had the pleasure of doing an interview last summer and they are super sweet and funny.)

🎶 - Top 5 favorite songs?
Again this is soooooooo difficult, so I’m just gonna list 5 tunes that I’ve listened to a lot a lot a lot:
Fleetwood Mac: Rhiannon
Haim: Days are gone
The Last Shadow Puppets: Miracle Aligner
We Are Scientists: Sprinkles
We Are Scientists: Lethal Enforcer
Also, shit! Need one from Prince……. Why you wanna treat me so bad - can’t find a link to it tho but look it up, it’s wicked!

2

ok so theres a beardless and glasses-less version for yall to see 
im gonna color this?? and maybe try painting it?? i know theres not much difference from the one last night but yeah dfkgjsdfg
weeps im really enjoying how hes turning out

anonymous asked:

Ok so I know I said the last one was my last one but I just love VE too much to do that to myself. Would it be possible for you guys to upload the symbols of the trolls by themselves? The ones you made, not the actual ones.

We’re glad you like it so much!

Certainly can upload those for you. This is a pretty quickly done sheet but it gets the job done.

we have 3 chickens and last night she forgot to lock up one (my favourite one!!!!) and we couldn’t find her anywhere so we assumed she was dead and today I was looking out for her all day AND SHE CAME BACK!! I don’t know where she’s been hiding all night and most part of today but i’m so happy she’s back

anonymous asked:

Well I have a different opinion of the last chapter than you but I hope this is ok since we only need to respect other people's different thoughts (I'm not saying that you didn't). Is just because even if I'm touken people feel kind offended when I point problems in their relationship, is not even about shipping but plot construction (that I find more important then only think about the romantic part I like).

I agree with you on that. I think you have two types of people here, 1. the ones that are unable to see the problems of their relationship and think that they’re perfect and everything is great, and 2. the salty ones who blame Touka for basically everything. I think we need a balance? their relationship is not perfect, BOTH made mistakes, but the point here is that both are very healthy for each other if they learn to forget the mistakes from the past. Touka is extremely healthy for Kaneki as a person, despite her bad things which is normal because no one is perfect. And Kaneki was always good to her in the past, he changed her a lot.