perfectly real

i’m laughing at the idea of a literal “hitman’s bodyguard” au where lance is a sniper who’s smitten with keith but doesn’t have any good excuse to keep him around so every single job is just keith playing candy crush on his phone while lance annihilates entire crime rings from a rooftop

skam messages

“I became insecure and desperate. Your opinion meant more to me than my own and that’s not how it should be. I have to find out what my opinion is. And I have to do it on my own.“

“But I can’t continue having regrets for the rest of my life… I wish I could do it all over again, completely different. But I can’t. I’m just going to have to accept it and move on.”

“Everybody is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.”

“You are strong and independent when you can change your opinions. No matter what gender changes you.”

“War doesn’t start with violence. It starts with misunderstandings and prejudice.”

“If you say you’re in favour of a world of peace, you have to try to understand why others think and act the way they do.”

“People experience horrible things everyday and still manage to be nice to others. Being an asshole is not something you’re born with, or something you become. It’s a choice.”

“Hate doesn’t come from religion, it comes from fear.”

“Whether you believe in Allah or Jesus or the theory of evolution or parallel universes, there’s only one thing we know for certain. That life is… now.”

“Do you know how many people I know who say they believe in Allah? But they still drink, steal and vandalize. What’s more important? Saying you believe in Allah or live like you believe in Allah?”

I love that skam can place important and meaningful messages within the show not just through actions and events but also in the dialogue without sounding cliché or slipping from the narrative voice. These are legitimate things that teenagers think about and say. Yes, they’re mature but it comes from reflection, observation, and learning about how the world works and who we are. It’s never dumbed down to the point that it sounds cheesy or discredits teenagers’ ability to genuinely think, and it’s not so elevated and structured that it sounds fake or forced. It’s raw and real and beautiful

It’s a metaphor.

Made for @tswwwit ​‘s Familiar AU: Faking It. I reread the fic for I think the 4th time yesterday and I’ve realized I’m really going to never grow tired of it. It’s my absolute favourite example of Bill and Dipper’s relationship and honestly  I could go on for hours talking about it (and my friends can attest to that, I’m sure they’re all tired of how much I rant about this story) so I’ll cut this short and sweet:

I give this fic my highest recommendation. Anyone who hasn’t read it (heck I even got someone who doesn’t like billdip to read it and they love it), go read it now. And get ready for the ride of your life because hot dang this au is amazing.

  • ChoCho: Sarada, would you say you're a papa's girl?
  • Sarada: No.
  • ChoCho: So you are a mama's girl.
  • Sarada: Better...
  • ChoCho: What?
  • Sarada: (dramatically fixes her glasses) I'm both.

alec had to admit, when magnus casually mentioned that alec should show him a few things about archery on a sunny tuesday morning in the target range of the institute, alec had felt a kind of smug pride burn in his chest. the sunlight had been filtering through the windows, catching bits of dust and catching at the tips of magnus’s spiked up hair and he looked… breathtaking. but more than that there was this amused kind of darkness around his eyes as he said it so casually, while alec still had an arrow nocked.

“what do you say?” magnus had finished with, tipping his head to the side slightly, leaning against one of the pillars. and alec was pretty sure his grin was blinding as he eagerly responded.

“i’d love to.”

maybe if he hadn’t been so smug he would have seen the mirth twinkling in magnus’s eyes but instead his pride eclipsed him and he turned back to the target, letting his arrow fly. it hit dead center and at that moment he felt entirely invincible if he was honest with himself.

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Know Nothing About Tarot Reading? Pfft!

If you are relatively new to Witchcraft, don’t worry. Interpreting tarot cards and even just finding where to get them is a lot simpler than people make it sound. Although you could always go for the complicated, tedious, mystical way of reading tarot cards, you honestly don’t have to. So here is my very, very, VERY long spew of tarot advice. Hope all of you find something helpful in here and if you have any questions at all, just message me!

Tarot cards don’t have to be tarot cards. What? Long story short, what I mean by this is that you don’t actually have to use flat out tarot cards for your divination. All you really have to do is go to a nearby dollar store and pick up a standard deck of playing cards. Yep, it’s that simple. Using them may be a tad bit different from regular tarot cards, but there is no doubt that you will be able to use them as every bit as efficiently as tarot cards. 

If you aren’t satisfied with some playing cards, that is perfectly okay. Finding a real deck of tarot cards isn’t that difficult. First look for a nearby pagan store. It can be any kind of pagan store really, because any of them will most likely have some. If you don’t have access to any pagan stores, then you can easily find a deck online. Here are a few good tarot sets:

-Luminous Spirit Tarot Deck by Labyrinthos

-The Wild Unknown Tarot Deck by Kim Krans (available on Urban Outfitters)

-The Prisma Visions Tarot Deck by James R. Eads

-Spirit Speak Tarot Deck by Mary Elizabeth Evans 

-Vessel Oracle Tarot Deck

Once you have acquired a decent set (around 35 or more cards), you can begin the process of bonding with your deck. Yes, you could just start right from the get-go, but nothing truly inspirational will begin to happen until you have mastered the personality of your specific deck. By the way, it is perfectly fine to have and use multiple decks, but make sure they are well-equipped for the job. 

Moving along, here is my advice on getting to know your deck. Spend time with it. You won’t truly understand how it works and flows until you can understand it’s specifics. Some tips to get to know your cards:

-Play with them. Shuffle the cards, ask a question, and pull out a random card. Just hold the deck in your hands and feel the edges, their texture, their material, how they fold and move.

-Look very closely at their images. What do they depict? What do the pictures mean to you? What do they represent? Focus on the colors, name the shades, figure out which ones are your favorite.

-Breathe in the smell of your cards. What do they smell like? What does the smell remind you of? Is it nostalgic or unfamiliar? Do you like the smell? If you don’t, learn to listen to your cards. Or just spritz some lavender spray on them, or whatever herb you like.

-Sleep next to your deck. This one may sound a little weird at times, but it makes sense. You will fall asleep with your cards in mind, therefore allowing you to mull them over all night long. When you wake up, they’ll be the first thing to greet you, and you’ll be reminded of them yet again.

-Use your cards for basic divination. Start with asking questions, playing little games, and whatnot before you move on. Then, work your way up the scale. Begin predicting little things or feelings you will experience throughout your day, ask more complex questions, and so on. Eventually your cards will age and develop some trusty experience, therefore readying them for more serious and difficult magic.

After bonding with your deck, it is all primed and ready for magic. 

Each deck has it’s own personality. Some are tricksters, others are gentle and compliant, while yet others are sassy and temperamental. Some decks are frustrating or angering at first, and that’s okay. Once you bond with your deck over time, you will be able to manipulate it and control it’s wildness. Once you can predict your deck’s next move and determine what it means, you are ready.

What are you ready for? Deep magic, of course. Predicting long-term events, strengthening your magic even further, challenging your mind and soul, and so on. Work your way up the food chain of divination until you can confidently say that you know exactly what you’re doing. Have fun and happy bewitching!

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

If you’re attracted to girls and boys, it doesn’t always mean that you like them exactly the same - and that’s okay! 

You may have a preference for one gender. This does not mean that your attraction to the other doesn’t matter or that you’re “picking a side” or that you’re actually “just a ordinary gay/straight person who wants to be special”. Your attraction to girls and boys is just as valid and real as it would be if you had no preference whatsoever. 

It may feel different when you have a crush on a boy vs when you have one on a girl. For example, you may get intense crushes on girls that make your heart beat fast and your face flush when you are around them - but when you have crushes on boys, it feels more like a nice warm feeling in your belly. That does not mean that either of these feelings is less real or less beautiful or less of a actual crush. Feelings are complex and that’s normal! 

There may be a difference in the frequency. For example, you may crush on boys all the time and on girls infrequently. Or you may have had two serious relationships with girls and never met a boy (yet) who you could imagine that with. Just like preference, frequency is not a proof that you are actually “just gay/straight” or that your attraction to one gender is “just a exception” and does not count.  

Your attraction to two (or more) genders doesn’t need to be perfectly equal to be real. No matter which label you identify with, your attraction matters and deserves to get taken serious and not dismissed because it’s more complex than the black and white thinking of some people. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

ur lines… don’t have to be perfectly smooth,,, or straight… or clean…. for your art,,, to be beautiful…,,,,,

How the turtles react to seeing their daughter for the first time:


Requested by: @brayden1616

How about the boys meeting their newborn daughter for the first time and getting to hold her? Plus a cute detail she has is his eye colour making her look just like daddy! 

A/N: I think I cried a little writing these :)


Leo had been pacing around the lair, waiting to get a phone call from April, or Casey, to let him know everything was alright. He didn’t even know what gender his child was. You’d delivered the baby at your place, because going to the hospital wasn’t an option while birthing a potential mutant turtle baby; but due to it being day time, Leo had to stay in the lair. He hadn’t stopped pacing since Casey phoned and said you’d gone into labour, and right now it was all he could do to stop himself from charging up to the surface and finding you, not caring who saw him. 

“Leo, will you-” Donnie started, from somewhere on the other side of the room. Leo didn’t even look up at him, before he interupted. 

“No, I will not stop pacing.” He snapped, still pacing. “Not until I know everything’s alright.” 

“If you’d listened; I was about to say, Leo will you stop and look who’s here.” Donnie chuckled slightly under his breath, and, with that statement, brought his brother’s incessant walking to an abrupt halt.

Leo turned slowly, and found you standing in the entrance to the lair, with a bundle of blankets held tightly in your arms. Leo’s whole world went onto pause for that moment. He was scared, delighted, nervous and amazed all at once. And he didn’t know what to do.

“Hey,” You smiled weakly, still uneasy after the whole, giving birth thing. But you’d never been happy to see Leo in your entire life, and you couldn’t wait to present him with his child. 

“Hi,” Leo barely managed to speak, and without thinking for another second he took a few, unsure steps forward.

Peeking over the ridge of the fluffy, white blankets held in your arms, Leonardo caught a glimpse at pale green skin. He gasped unintentionally, and felt his whole body begin to tremble - that was his child. None of them had thought it would ever be possible for them to reproduce, but here it was, healthy and perfectly real. 

“It’s a girl, Leo,” You whispered, watching him edge ever so slightly closer with every second that passed. He was hesitant, you could see it in his eyes as they remained glued on your daughter. “Do you wanna hold her?” 

Leo gulped down his fears and locked eyes with you for a second. How had he been so lucky to find someone like you? He nodded carefully, and closed the gap that he’d measured between you. 

You handed him your daughter with steady arms, and watched as Leonardo’s face lit up completely. His smile grew ever wider, and as he stared down at the small, slightly green, baby in his arms, he felt tears prick his eyes.

Without warning, the baby girl woke up slowly, stretched her arms up towards Leo’s face, and made a small ‘ga-ga’ noise. To which Leo laughed softly. She had his eyes. Bright blue crystals that gazed up at him with naive awe. She was gorgeous; he’d thought he could never love anything more than you, but he, within seconds, loved this child unconditionally.

A tear or two slipped loose down Leo’s scaly cheeks, and he smiled even wider at you. “What shall we call her?” You ask with a similar smile, wrapping your arms around Leo’s torso, and looking over your child with adoration.

“What about Ellie?” He sniffs a couple times, still beaming down at this little girl that resembled him in so many ways.

“Ellie it is,” You smile, and lean up to peck his cheek. “She looks like you,” You mumble against his face, and watch his eyes drift to you.

“She looks like us,” And he kissed you on the lips this time. 

“Hey Ellie - I’m Uncle Mikey!”  A voice carried from the entrance to the lair, and in pranced Michelangelo and Casey Jones, holding a huge teddy bear. “Who’s my favourite niece?” To which little baby Ellie burst into tears, and Leo held her slightly closer to his chest with a gentle chuckle. He had a similar reaction to Mikey’s voice, for pretty much all of his life. And he never wanted to let his daughter go ever again.


His brothers were starting to get worried, but they couldn’t be sure that Raphael had actually moved in the hours he’d been waiting for you to arrive. He’d been sat on the couch, with his hands balled anxiously around the other; he didn’t speak at all, he would hardly look up from the floor dead ahead of him. Leonardo sat beside him, not really doing anything, but he was there just to keep Raph from getting too anxious. 

April had phoned to say you’d gone into labour, and since that point Raphael hadn’t shifted from this spot on the couch, where he was still sat a few hours later. No one really spoke at all in those horrifically slow hours, and no one dared go near Raphael after he’d glued himself to the seat - only Leonardo, but then Leo was always at Raphael’s side, no matter the circumstances, or consequences. 

“Raph,” Leo muttered eventually, another half an hour later. His blue bandanna flapped in the corner of Raph’s vision, but he dared not tear his gaze from the floor ahead of him. He’d glared at that floor until it got up and left.

“Don’t.” Raphael spat back through gritted teeth. He didn’t mean to get aggressive, but he was just so worried and confused and terrified that anger seemed to be the default emotion. “Just don’t.”

“Well I’m not going to tell Y/N to leave, so you’re gonna have to look up eventually.” Leonardo chuckled, and watched as his brother’s face loosened in a split second. His entire body tightened and released a hundred times before his emerald eyes finally lifted. There you were, gradually walking over with a small, fragile bundle of blankets in your arms. 

Raphael physically couldn’t bring himself to move - there you were, and there it was. He didn’t even know it’s gender, but he knew it was his. A faintly green, tiny hand occasionally reached over the fluffy blanket and twitched it’s fingers randomly. Even without seeing its face, Raphael was in love more than he thought was physically possible. 

“It’s a girl, Raph,” You smiled sweetly at him - you looked weak, obviously, but Raph couldn’t even bring himself to think of you right now. All his mind could possibly comprehend was the tiny bundle of blankets in your arms. His baby girl. His daughter.

He broke down, silently, at that thought. Still unable to stand or move or speak, but the sheer idea of seeing his own child, made everything about him just want to cry. He didn’t think he could ever have children, let alone produce something so small and adorable as the daughter you held so close. 

“Do you wanna hold her?” You ask with an ever growing grin, your own eyes pricking with tears upon seeing Raphael cry. He was such a huge teddy bear, more emotional than he’d care to admit, but now he didn’t even care who was in the room, he just sat and cried.

Raphael nodded quietly, and looked towards Leo. He didn’t know why he looked at his brother, there wasn’t anything Leonardo could do to change the world pool of emotional spiralling in Raph’s stomach, but it was somewhat reassuring knowing his brother, his best friend, was still sat at his side. 

When you sat beside him, Leo’s smile grew; and Raph’s eyes glued to the small body being placed in his strong hands. Her eyes opened wide, and glowed green in the light; she had his eyes. How could she look so beautiful with his eyes, because all he ever thought of himself as was ugly and freakish, but she, she was the most brilliant thing on the planet.

“Can we call her Lucy?” He finally heaved in a breath, and dared a glance at you. You, you who was so astonishingly gorgeous and amazing, you who had captured his heart and saw something worth loving amidst all his anger. You who had given him the most amazing and beautiful creation in the entire world. 

“Of course,” You beam back, and look between the two loves of your life, already sure that Raphael would be the best father in the world.


“What if something’s gone wrong?” He sighed dramatically, endlessly walking around, sitting down, and then getting up again. Mikey, who was slouched on the floor with a pizza, looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“Dude, everything’s going to be fine! Casey said she’s alri-”

“I don’t need Casey to tell me how my girlfriend is, Mikey!” Donatello barked back, cutting his younger brother off without hesitation. “What does he know anyway? When was the last time he helped deliver a potentially mutant turtle baby? Huh? He hasn’t! Ever! So how would he know how she is?” Donatello’s voice grew higher and higher in pitch, the more frantic his words became. He was worried out of his mind, and it just so happened Michelangelo was close enough to take it out on him. He didn’t mean to be rude and abrupt, but with you and his child in potential danger, he couldn’t help but be a bit on edge.

“Wow Donnie, bit harsh.” The voice of Casey Jones echoed throughout the lair after a second of silence shared between the two turtles. In walked the hockey player with swagger in his step, as though nothing abnormal had occurred today, before he fell down beside Mikey and the uneaten pizza. 

“Where is she?” Donnie began to freak out, “Where’s the baby? Are they alright? God, Mikey, what do I do? I’m not ready to be a father! I don’t know the slightest thing about -”

“You know everything about everything, D. You are going to be an amazing dad - and you better start quickly,” Mikey nodded his head, wit a wide grin, towards the door behind the purple clad turtle. 

As Donatello turned around, you smiled up at him, holding your child carefully in your arms. Donnie’s mouth practically hit the floor upon catching sight of his child, his own flesh and blood - and potentially scales - wrapped in blankets, and within reach of him. 

“You worry too much,” You sniggered, extending the baby in his direction. You didn’t need to ask the question before Donatello’s lit up with both eagerness and nerves. It was going to take him a while to get over the initial fact of actually having created such a beautiful thing, but holding it would be the first step. “It’s a girl, Donnie.”

He took the bundle of blankets in his arms, and was met by a pair of round, red eyes gazing back at him. “She’s got my eyes,” Donnie beamed like an excitable child, or Mikey when the pizza arrives. “She’s actually got my eyes,” Those beautifully circular orbs of bright colour were the most brilliant thing Donatello had seen in his life. 

She needs a name.” You laughed, wrapping you arms around Donnie so you could stare at the two people you loved most in this world. 

“How about….” Donnie’s mind worked at a hundred thousand miles per hour to even think of what a name was, before he settled on idea: “Penny.”

“Penny?” You rose an eyebrow, but laughed nonetheless, “Penny it is.” You smile brightly up at Donnie and watch his awe filled eyes look directly at his daughter, and that was when you realised; you were never going to get that child off of him again.


“Mikey, will you sit down? She’ll be here in a minute, just chill.” Raph groaned, lying back on the couch and watching as his orange clad brother practically bounced off of the walls. 

“What if it doesn’t like me?” He paused in his jittering, and looked solemnly at his brother for an answer, as though it were the most important question of his life. 

“It’s only just been born,” Raphael scoffed, “It hasn’t even seen you yet, how could it not like you?” 

“I don’t know, man, it might not like orange, or something,” Mikey was freaking out. He always bigged himself up, as though he’d be amazing with kids if he weren’t a turtle, but having one of his own was more terrifying than anything he’d ever faced before. And now he was but minutes away from facing his own child, and he couldn’t stop his mind form thinking up the worst case scenarios. 

“She doesn’t even know what orange is yet,” A voice said from nearby, and made Mikey whip around with impossible speed. There you were, smiling and holding a pale-green baby in a bundle of blankets. Raphael had no snarky comeback now, and neither did Mikey. Instead Michelangelo’s eyes simply grew to twice the size, and the words you’d just said rotated in his head on an endlessly loop. 

“She?” He almost whimpered, trying to comprehend the meaning of that one, simple word. It was a girl. He had a daughter. He was a dad! 

“I haven’t named her yet,” You shrugged, only noticing then how much Mikey’s face had lit up.

“Can I hold her?” He asked excitably, and reached out to take his baby girl in his arms. “I think she looks like a Kaia,” He whispered, cradling his daughter with ease. She was so small, so adorable and fragile. He’d never let go of her again, if he had her way.

“Kaia?” You giggled, amused by the awe in Mikey’s bright blue eyes.

“It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Mikey grinned. The baby’s small eyes looked up at him with a sleepy gaze, and Michelangelo’s heart fluttered at seeing the two crystal orbs sparkling back at him. She had his eyes.

“You have a point.” You reply, falling in love with Mikey all over again. His brother’s often argued he was immature, or too idiotic to be treated like an adult, but seeing him standing there, with his daughter held close to his chest, you knew he was going to prove them all wrong. 

Now that Mark is getting into music...

can we all just say a silent prayer to whatever deity you believe in (if you’re atheist, just pick one for the purposes of this exercise) and ask that Markiplier be introduced to the musical genius of Lin-Manuel Miranda

it was late, sometime after dinner and the sun had long since set leaving the loft bathed in warm tones, the city outside was a mix of purple and blue, run through with sparkling lights. the curtains were shifting, a soft rustling sound that was mixing with the quiet flicker of candles and the sounds of the city wafting in with the slight breeze. but those weren’t the sounds that alec was fixated on. no, he was fixated on the sounds behind him as he lay there on the couch, his eyes closed, and his breathing slow and even. he was focused on the sounds of magnus working.

glass jars were clinking together, put back in their rightful places and rearranged, and every so often there would be a pause, a deep hum or a small whisper. he could hear magnus moving, his feet shifting on the rugs. he could hear a pen on a page, the quiet scribble of magnus’s handwriting, and the wet sound of a potion being absently stirred. it was comforting, listening to the busy sound of magnus moving. these were all sounds he had grown so accustomed to, so much so that they were sending him off to sleep as he lay there, body exhausted from a long day of putting out proverbial fires at the institute.

it was a funny thing, the way it seemed to hit him every so often. the soft hum of the loft was wrapped around him, every quiet noise pressing in on him and making him feel so safe. the smell of this place, their home had settled in around him, a smell that had been so distinctly magnus, but had become so distinctly them. it registered again, for the thousandth time, that this was his home. this was his place of comfort and safety, his space he shared with a man who he loved and who loved him. this was where he belonged.

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