pop can tab

omgcp characters as things i've cried about
  • Bitty: Cried because I had really good cherry cheesecake that reminded me of Christmas
  • Jack: Cried over a dog named Meatball
  • Holster: Cried when my parents got me a dvd set of an anime for Christmas when I was 12
  • Ransom: Cried when Mr. Sheffield proposed to Fran with a pop can tab on The Nanny
  • Shitty: Cried in the bathroom after homecoming my sophomore year because I had really good mashed potatoes when we got dinner afterwards
  • Lardo: Cried because I realized ive had a huge gay crush on dana scully since I was 10
  • Nursey: Cried because I did a puzzle while super sleep deprived at 6 am and the end product was too pretty
  • Chowder: Cried after watching that video of the raccoon who lost its cotton candy in the water
  • Dex: Cried for a solid ten minutes when my dad pretended there was a spider on my shoe
  • Tango: Cried because I accidentally burnt hershey’s kisses by trying to melt them in the microwave and set the smoke alarm off
  • Whiskey: Cried when I couldn’t beat a pokemon gym
  • Tater: Cried for twenty minutes because a reboot of my favorite show used the original intro
  • Bonus
  • Parse: Cried after I locked my cat in my room to bond with him and he hissed at me
In Dreams 8

Chapter 1...Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6 …Chapter 7

NORTH MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

TUESDAY

She sits across the conference table from the team of physicians who have been treating Mulder, fingers laced together. The three aging men look like a trio of bulldogs. She remembers sitting in much the same arrangement when she was trying to get into med school.

Peering over reading glasses with jowly faces they’d asked “ Why do you want to be a doctor?” “To help people,” she’d said.

It was the same answer she gave when she was first interviewed for the FBI. She just wanted to help people. But there was more to it than that, in both pursuits. There was a niggling voice in the back of her head reminding her to be ambitious without sounding ambitious. “Helping people” was the most benign answer she could give. Because the truth was that of course, she wanted to help, but she also wanted to be inspired. She wanted to feel challenged and scared and be the best with a capital “B.” She wanted to use the razors edge of her brilliant mind to do more than help, she wanted to slice through all of the minutia and patriarchal constructs and come out at the top of the game. It hadn’t happened that way, at all. The one thing she has come away with is the undeniable certainty that life is short and that she must go after what she wants with every ounce of resolve she has.

“Agent Scully, we’re at a bit of a loss as to Agent Mulder’s condition,” one of them says.

“I suspected as much,” she answers. “Has anyone been able to explain the compound discovered in his blood when he was found?”

“We just assumed it was some sort of illicit substance,” another one offers with a twitch of his bushy mustache.

She glances between the three men opposite her and her eyebrow lifts in an imperious arch.

“You just assumed that a federal officer was under the influence of an illicit substance?” she asks incredulously.

“It’s not outside the realm of possibility,” the third grunts.

“In this case it is,” she clips. “Why was no further analysis done?”

“His head injury is the most likely cause of the memory loss. When a doctor hears hoofbeats, he thinks horses, not zebras,” the grayest and most dour of the three says, looking at her as he would a petulant child.

“Yes, thank you. I didn’t get distracted the first day of med school, Dr. Kelley, nor any days after,” she says, leveling a look that could make any man tread lightly. “His MRI shows no evidence of a bleed or swelling. His ‘trauma’ amounts to a nasty concussion and certainly wouldn’t account for the degree of memory loss we’re seeing here.”

“My understanding is that you’re a pathologist, not a neurologist or psychiatrist, Agent Scully,” the one on the left chimes in.

“No, I’m not,” she admits.

“Because if you were, you would know that the causes for amnesia are many and that only a very few of them can be proven through any kind of imaging,” he tells her pointedly.

“Which is why I would like access to his original samples in order to do more investigation regarding this compound and the unusually high levels of benzodiazepine,” she says.

“Those samples were all tested and if anything was left, they’ve since been destroyed,” Lefty says.

“I see. Well, as soon as I can make arrangements, we’ll be transporting him back to DC.”

“I would strongly advise against that,” Mustache says.

“I wasn’t looking for your advice,” she says as she stands.

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batmans-tiny-dick-grayson  asked:

I wanna cosplay leliana from dragon age but she has chainmail on her outfit so I was wondering if you could suggest a material that looks like chainmail (because I'm poor and can't afford actual chainmail and it's heavy)

It depends on the type of chainmail you are looking for. If you’re looking for small links, knitting can work as a lightweight and cheap solution. If you’re looking for larger links then you can fake them with PVC pipe. Faux leather can be used for scale mail, which is what I believe Leliana is wearing. Since scale mail is usually done by linking the scales with hoops, you can make scales from another material (such as craft foam or worbla) and link them together with metal hoops, PVC hoops or another connecting material. 

You can also use pop can tabs but it’s difficult to collect enough to make something!

Best of luck, 
Cosplay Tutorial