shelter half

anonymous asked:

If Haggar went by the name Honvera before the war, is it possible Lotor went by Sincline? If so, then it's possible Allura does know Lotor, but knew him as Sincline and just doesn't think they're the same person. Also she and Coran don't share information about the past unless it's immediately pressing, they didn't tell anyone about Zarkon, Haggar, or the original paladins until they had to. It's possible they wouldn't say anything about 'Sincline' if they thought he was dead and didn't matter.

I’ve considered the possibility Lotor wasn’t using the same name in the past.

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This is Jupiter, a sweet boy I wanted to adopt from our local humane society. Someone else adopted him before I could, so I hope he has a good home now. The shelter guessed that he’s half Cane Corso, though he’s pretty small, probably similar in size to a Beagle.

You’re Satan

Request: do you think something with #19/20 from the list is possible w/ peter?

Summary: You and Peter are having a movie day, but Peter isn’t completely entertained by the movies.

A/N: the prompts are You’re Satan & I don’t want to hear your excuses. You can’t just give me a wet willy.

Originally posted by castlewyvern

Your head rested on Peters chest, rising up and down with his breathing. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, and one hand gliding back and forth over your back. A purple blanket was sheltering your lower half, keeping your legs warm as you both stared at the t.v screen. You and Peter were spending the first day of the weekend relaxing and watching movies. Peter wanted to watch Star Wars, but you wanted to watch Harry Potter. So you compromised and now you’re watching Harry Potter. Peter honestly didn’t care what the two of you watched, he just wanted to spend time with you.

As time passed, Peter just couldn’t concentrate on the movie. His eyes trailed around the room, and his mind hunted for anything that may entertain him.

You were paying no mind to Peter, until you felt a slight tugging at your hair. You didn’t move or react, you waited to see if the tugging would continue. Surely enough, it did, “Ow,” you muttered.

Peter released your strand of hair and returned to rubbing your back. Moments later, his hand lifted off from your back. A cool sensation crept onto space that his hand was no longer running over. 

Peter stuck a cool wet finger into your ear. You screeched and sat up from your position on his chest, “Ew Peter!” you exclaimed, covering your ear that had just been violated. Chuckles erupted from Peters chest as he watched your fit. You grabbed the nearest couch pillow and chucked it at his face as an act of revenge. He let out an ‘ow’ and brought his hands up to defend himself in a delayed reaction. 

You huffed and removed yourself from the couch that you were sharing and plopped down on the love seat placed adjacent to it. “Awwe, babe come back,” Peter whined, “No,” you replied, not bothering to look at him.

“Oh come on, it was just a wet willy, it was only a joke,”

“I don’t care,”

“Babe, I-”

I don’t want to hear your excuses. You can’t just give me a wet willy.” 

Peter sighed in defeat, and kept his gaze on you. He knew you weren’t actually mad at him, but nevertheless it still bothered him in the slightest way. He got up and laid practically on top of you on the small couch. You continued to ignore him and looked at anything but him. He then began to place short delicate kisses all over the side of your face. Peter pouted upon noticing that you had no reaction to his actions. So he stuck one of his fingers in his mouth, and then your ear. 

You gasped and swatted at his chest,”You’re Satan!” you shouted, then shoving him to the ground. You heard a few thuds then a few chuckles, followed by an ‘ouch’. 

Peter sat up and turned to face you, “I think you’re the Satan here,” he said smiling down at you.

Yeah it was short and lame, but i’ll make up for it 


(also on ao3)

“Dander,” Levi says, recalling the name on the placard hanging on the wall outside of the room. “Why’s she called that?”

“Well,” Eren, the man who has been introducing him to all the cats at the shelter for the past half hour, says, “she sheds. A lot.”

Levi hums. He can handle that. He holds out his hand and the cat sniffs it, nudges his fingers. Levi starts to pet her head.

Then she bites him.

“And she’s kind of feisty.”

Eren laughs awkwardly, voice dying off as Levi stares at him. He clears his throat.

“We can go look at the other cats again.”

The other cats. The nice ones. The cute one. The friendly ones.

Levi looks at Dander. The difficult one. The odd one. The temperamental one. The one that no one wants.

He knows the feeling.

“I’ll take her.”


“Dander. I’ll take her.”

“Really?” Eren’s face lights up. “That’s great! Isn’t that great, Dander?”

Dander blinks at him and flicks her tail.

“She thinks it’s great, too.”

Levi doubts that, but he isn’t going to burst the guy’s bubble.

“Alright,” Eren says, “we’ll just need to fill out some paperwork. It’ll take a few days to process all your information and make sure you’re able to–”

“Oh,” Levi interrupts, digging in the pocket of his coat. “Here.”

He hands Eren several papers that, in hindsight, he probably should have put in a folder rather than crumpling them and stuffing them in his jacket. It’s an official note, an allowance really, from his therapist to get an animal to keep at home, to help him. He’s skeptical it will actually work, but he’s willing to give it a shot. Hange suggested it, both as a professional and as a friend, and he values their opinion as both.

“Sorry. Should have given it to you before.”

“You’re…” Eren begins.

Freakish? Pitiful? A waste of space?

“…lucky,” he finishes. “This will speed things up. We can get you squared away within the hour. But you still have to fill out the paperwork. Unfortunately I can’t spare you the boring stuff.”

Eren smiles at Levi and Levi tries to smile back, though it probably looks more like a grimace. Whatever face he ends up making, Eren doesn’t seem bothered by it. He opens the door of Dander’s room, allowing Levi to exit first before following behind and shutting the door behind them. He fiddles with Dander’s placard, switching the removable sign under her name that says ‘I’m looking for my purrfect match’ to ‘I’ve found my furever home’.

“So there’s no confusion if someone else comes to visit,” he explains and leads Levi back to the lobby.

It only takes about twenty minutes to get everything in order. They send him home with a few days worth of food and some of Dander’s favorite toys to get him started, and Dander herself in a cardboard kitty crate that, judging by the way it tilts back and forth regularly, she is eager to get back out of.


Levi stops and turns, watches as Eren runs across the parking lot. He hands Levi a piece of paper with a number on it.

“This is my cell. Call me anytime.”

Levi raises eyebrow at him.

“About the cat.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Or anything really,” he says as he walks backwards towards the shelter. “Keep in touch, Levi.” Eren waves before turning and rushing into the building.

Levi waves back long after Eren is out of sight. It’s stiff and Levi pulls his arm back against his side almost immediately.


Dander meows at him loudly, her pink nose sticking out of one of the holes in the crate.

“Right. So am I.” Levi puts Dander in his car then gets in himself. “Let’s go home.”

Not so Insignificant


This time. This time for sure!

Stepping off the bus, he glanced around, hesitant to draw anyone’s attention as he shambled down the steps. Confidence bloomed as he reached the bottom but was soon to vanish with the presence of the others.

In his head they stared, they jeered, the mocked him. But in reality, he was glossed over, a passing thought in their purview. And even to himself, he felt insignificant, a mere dot in the vastness of the world.

Yet a small glimmer shined in the corner of his eyes, turning the tremors in his hands to visible shakes as his nerves increased while his shoulders dropped. In his periphery, he had seen the familiar swoop of hair making him sigh a little, eyes brightening even more.

Without noticing, he had been distracted enough to not notice as the boy walked towards him. Luckily his feet listened to his panicking body as it lunged away, rushing to hide. Eyeing the entrance, he saw nowhere to hide before spying a bush to the side. Sparing only a short glance behind him, hands quickly brushed the leaves as he jumped behind it.

Without consideration for his now bruised body, nor the leaves dotting his hair, he shimmied up the tree. Within seconds the boy he so desperately ran from passed by, nonchalantly reading his book while the other hand caught and spun his apple.

A small smile spread across his face, eyes relaxing as he continued staring. But the position he was in hindered his view, resulting in his slow rise upwards.


He scrambled to duck back down, even as he bit his tongue to not shout from pain. He managed to crane his neck around the tree briefly to see that the noise had indeed been heard, prompting his head to whip back around again.

With his heart thumping, he clutched it, pressing the sound deep into his body. All sorts of prayers passed through his mind but it was only when he heard the sounds of footsteps, amidst the pounding of the organ shoved under his hands, did he relax.

A soft groan slipped through his lips as he turned around, to follow the boy’s path into the school. However, as he moved, his hands slipped from around his heart, releasing it to pound happily. As he watched, the heart sprung out of his chest, a big smile covering its as it hovered in front of him.

He could only blink in surprise as the heart spun around in the air. When it’s eyes latched onto the boy’s form he felt a small tug where his heart should have been. Glancing down at his chest, he went to rub the area, still confused, when instead his hand was grabbed by the heart and tugged towards the school entrance.

Shaking his head no, he almost shouted but managed to restrain himself as he tried to pull his hand back. But even as he pulled back, the heart struggled to free itself, ultimately being flung away from him. Terrified he watched as it flew into replace the apple, tossed up and down.

Almost crying as he could feel the jostling of his heart in the boy’s hands, inside his chest, he nearly fell out of the tree in his hurry. But just as he arrived close enough, the heart was on a trajectory towards the boy’s mouth. He closed his eyes briefly before jumping forward to grab the heart from the outstretched hand.

Instantly he knew something was wrong for he only felt a smooth hand under his own, and the unexpectedly closed eyes flung open as he stared briefly before ripping his hand away. Clutching it to his chest, he noticed that his heart had managed to land in the book. With one swift move he grabbed it and leapt inside the garbage can. Outside he could hear the sounds of the other students walking past, but the slight sliver of light showed that the boy had not moved.


The jarring noise of the bell nearly made him jump, but for once his fear helped as he wasn’t able to convinced his muscles to move. A tenseness that filled his entire body only grew as he heard the final footsteps away from him. Slowly he lifted the lid of the can, his heart floating beside his face as he watched everyone walk inside.

The last one in seemed to be the boy, and his heart picked it up as well, as it zoomed away from him, flitting inside the school just as the doors slid shut. Panicked, he tumbled out of the garbage can, smudges of dirt and leaves now left permanently on his face. Regardless of his outward look, he jumped up and clambered up the stairs.

Ripping open the doors, his worst nightmare had come true, for his heart had knocked the boy over and began nuzzling him. Cringing internally, he bit his lip as he reached out for his heart. Inside he was chanting a repeated mantra for the heart to return to him. Finally grabbing it he managed to pull on an arm but it stubbornly grabbed the boy and refused to let go.

His body began to shake, the presence of people around him became stifling and almost choking. Frantically he began to pull on the heart, even as small cracks began to form along the middle. He could see its small eyes begging him not to, but as his sight travelled he could see how the boy looked scared and small. He felt bolstered to continue his pulling.

Not glancing at anyone, he yanked his arm hard enough, and heard the audible snap and felt the shatter in his chest. Clutching the half to his chest he sprinted outside, tears now streaming down his cheeks. He sobbed hard as the pain in his chest increased the tighter his hands gripped around the half.

Taking shelter at the base of his tree, he let himself cry and mourn. Slowly his tears slowed, and all that remained was the stains on his face and his red face. As he looked down at his hands, he felt the movement of someone near him and glanced up only to see the boy standing there.

Flinching, he wiped the last of his tears and looked away, nervous about what would be shouted at him. But instead, a hand came towards his own, and even through the involuntary retraction he only received a patient smile.

Hesitantly he extended the heart half and watched fascinated as the boy put the two halves together and helped him form his heart once more. As the little smile on his face grew at the bright heart, he saw that the boy had sat down beside him.

Facing the boy he looked confused but the soft smile was enough to bring the blush back and force his head down in embarrassment. But even as his heart smiled brightly, his own small smile was radiant as the sun.

The boy cleared his throat slightly before speaking, “Johnathon.”

He knew, of course he knew the boy’s name. But this meant more.

“…Sh–” He was still hesitant but took a deep breath. “Sherwin.”

anonymous asked:

For the five word prompt, 'Why do i love you' or 'Are you stupid or stupid' with Saeran, maybe? ^-^

Prompt: “Are you stupid or stupid?”

“We made it!” you exclaimed in relief as you bent over to catch your breath. Your face was flushed, stray strands of hair stuck on your sweaty face and you peeled them off one by one as you grinned smugly at the man seated next to you. He too, was panting slightly, but not nearly as much as you were. A drop of perspiration was sliding down the side of his face though, and he was fanning himself with his hand with a rather irritated scowl on his face. It was a hot day, you had to admit – you were definitely going to smell later – and he didn’t seem too pleased with being made to sprint like that earlier.

“it’s so hot today,” he grumbled under his breath, reaching up to adjust the air vent above him so that the cool air would blow directly at his hair and face.

Of course, that also meant depriving you of the much needed cold air.

You frowned a little, reaching up to adjust the air vent so you could enjoy the air-conditioning instead. That earned you yet another glower from your boyfriend, who smacked your hand away lightly and shifted the air vent back towards him.

Now it was your turn to shoot daggers at the redhead, and before long this turned into a childish game of seeing who would get the air-conditioning. The other commuters cast the both of you disapproving glances, but you couldn’t care less. It was a hot day, and you would have the air conditioning, even if it meant tackling your boyfriend to the ground and kicking him out the bus at the next stop.

Eventually, Saeran wisely gave up fighting and allowed it to face you, and settled for shifting closer to you so he could also get some of the cold air on his face. So the both of you were practically squeezing together on a single seat, your thighs pressed against each other and his chin directly behind your head. The proximity allowed you to feel the summer heat radiating from his body in waves. It wasn’t all that comfortable, but this was the best compromise you were going to get.

Besides, you couldn’t deny that you liked having him seated so close, given that the man was usually so averse to physical contact even when you begged him for it, simply because he was just so awkward and shy when it came to that.

“How long will this ride take again?” he asked, absently gazing out the window at the blur of cars, cement roads and tall buildings passing by.

“Twenty minutes,” you replied confidently. You had done your homework the night before, and this was the shortest way to get to the cherry farm that you and Saeran had been interested in visiting for the longest time. You just hoped you wouldn’t miss the stop when it came.

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For women fear too much, even as they love, and as my love is sized, my fear is so.


He went out, leaving me staring at the oaken door with a very unpleasant sensation in the pit of my stomach. I was remembering the look of gay anticipation on Laoghaire’s face as she came around the corner, hearing Jamie’s voice, and the look of angry shock that replaced it when she saw me cradled in his arms. I remembered the momentary tightening of his joints as he saw her, and wished most fervently that I had been able to see his face at that moment. 

 There was, after all, the little scene I had witnessed in the alcove, Jamie holding the girl on his knee and kissing her ardently (I’ve held women in my arms before, his voice came back to me, and they’ve made my heart pound and my breath come short…). I found that my hands were clenched, making bunched ridges in the green and yellow quilt. I released it and wiped my hands over my skirt, realizing in the process just how filthy they were, grimed with the dirt of two days of holding reins, with no respite in between for washing. 

I rose and went to the basin, forgetting my tiredness. I found, a bit to my surprise, that I strongly disliked the memory of Jamie kissing Laoghaire. 

I remembered what he had said about that, too—’Tis better to marry than burn, and I was burning badly then. I burned a bit myself, flushing strongly as I remembered the effect of Jamie’s kisses on my own lips. Burning, indeed.

“Who looks on a woman with lust in his heart hath committed adultery with her already. Is that how ye see it?“

“Is it how you see it”

“No,” he said shortly. “I don’t. And what would ye do if I had lain wi’ a whore, Sassenach? Slap my face? Order me out of your chamber? Keep yourself from my bed?” 

I turned and looked at him. “I’d kill you,” I said through my teeth. 

Both eyebrows shot up, and his mouth dropped slightly with incredulity. “Kill me? God, if I found you wi’ another man, I’d kill him.” 

“Oh, God, John!” he said. I stopped dead, halted much more by the tone of that voice than by the words—it was broken with an emotion I had seldom heard from him. Walking very quietly, I drew closer. Framed in the half-open door was Jamie, head bowed as he pressed Lord John Grey tight in a fervent embrace. I stood still, completely incapable of movement or speech.

As I watched, they broke apart. Jamie’s back was turned to me, but Lord John faced the hallway; he could have seen me easily, had he looked. He wasn’t looking toward the hallway, though. He was staring at Jamie, and on his face was a look of such naked hunger that the blood rushed to my own cheeks when I saw it. I dropped my fan. I saw the Governor’s head turn, startled at the sound. Then I was running down the hall, back toward the salon, my heartbeat drumming in my ears. My hands were cold, and I felt slightly sick. What in the name of God was going on? The Governor’s shock at learning that I was Jamie’s wife was now at least partially explained; that one glimpse of unguarded, painful yearning had told me exactly how matters stood on his side.

I tried to ignore the conversation going on behind me, to lose myself instead in the memory of Jamie hewing bark and squaring logs, of sleeping in his arms under the shelter of a half-built wall, feeling the house rise up around me, enclosing me in warmth and safety, the permanent embodiment of his embrace. I always felt safe and soothed by this vision, even when I was alone on the mountain, knowing I was protected by the house he had built for me. Tonight, though, it wasn’t working.
I lay still, wondering exactly what was the matter with me. Or rather, not what, but why. I knew by now what it was, all right; it was jealousy.

I was indeed jealous; an emotion I hadn’t felt for some years, and was appalled to feel now. I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the murmur of conversation.
Lord John had been nothing but courtesy itself to me. More than that, he had been intelligent, thoughtful—thoroughly charming, in fact. And listening to him making intelligent, thoughtful, charming conversation with Jamie knotted my insides and made me clench my hands under cover of the quilt.
You are an idiot, I told myself savagely. What is the matter with you?

“When I was three-and-twenty, I didna understand how it was that to look at a woman could turn my bones to water, yet make me feel I could bend steel in my hands. When I was five-and-twenty, I didna understand how I could want both to cherish a woman and ravish her, all at once.” 

 “A woman?” I asked, and got what I wanted—the curl of his mouth and a glance that went through my heart. 

 “One woman,” he said. He took the hand I laid on his knee, and held it tightly, as though afraid I might snatch it back. “Just one,” he repeated, his voice husky.

 I felt a sense of great peace, and the air around me stirred, like wind rushing through feathers. Then some sound turned me toward the window and I saw the man who stood there. I had no name for him, and yet I loved him. He stood with his back turned to the bed, arms braced on the sill, and his head sunk on his chest, so the dawn light glowed red on his hair and traced his arms with gold. 

A spasm of grief shook him; I felt it, like the temblors of a distant quake. Someone moved near him. A dark-haired woman, a girl. She came close, touched his back, murmuring something to him. I saw the way she looked at him, the tender inclination of her head, the intimacy of her body swaying toward him. 

No, I thought, with great calm. That won’t do. I looked once more at myself lying on the bed, and with a feeling that was at once firm decision and incalculable regret, I took another breath. 

“How’d you like it if I were jealous?” I asked the crown of his head. 

“I’d like that fine,” he replied, breath warm on my exposed flesh. “And ye were. Of Laoghaire.” He looked up, grinning, eyebrow raised. “Maybe ye still are?” I slapped him again, and this time I meant it. He could have stopped me but didn’t. “Aye, that’s what I thought,” he said, wiping a watering eye.

“I need to go and see Laoghaire,” he said abruptly. “Will ye kill me if I do?” She looked surprised. And then, damn her, amused. 

“Are you asking my permission?” 

“I am not,” he said, feeling stiff and awkward. “I only—well, I thought I should tell ye, is all.” 

“Very considerate of you.” She was still smiling, but the smile had taken on a certain wariness. “Would you… care to tell me why you want to go and see her?” 

“I didna say I want to see her,” he said, a noticeable edge in his voice. “I said I need to.” 

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask why you need to see her?” Her eyes were just that bit wider and yellower than usual; he’d roused the hawk in her. She made a small sniffing noise, not quite “Hmph!” but he took her meaning clear enough. “If you only want to know who she’s sleeping with, there are probably less direct ways of finding out,” she said. Her voice was carefully level, but her pupils had dilated. 

“I dinna care who she’s sleeping with!” 

“Oh, yes, you do,” she said promptly. 

“I don’t!” 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she said, and on the verge of an explosion, he burst out laughing instead. She looked momentarily taken back but then joined him, snorting with it and her nose going pink. She pushed a little way back then and brushed the falling curls out of her eyes to look up at him. 

She searched his face thoughtfully and nodded. “Well, do give her my very best regards, then, won’t you?” 

Why, ye vengeful wee creature. I’d never ha’ thought it of ye!”

“Wouldn’t you, indeed?” she said, dry as toast. He smiled down at her and ran a thumb gently down the side of her cheek. 

Jealous Claire as requested by anonymous

it starts with an earthquake, pt 1

The world ends on a Thursday, comes crashing down in smoke and fire and ruin. And then it keeps going, and Vox Machina figures out how to make do in the aftermath. [ a post-apocalyptic au for cr ladies week]

day one: pike trickfoot


After the world ends, Pike takes up distilling moonshine in the still on the roof.

It’s Percy still, actually, but he cedes it to her with his blessing, spends his time instead in the garage fiddling with whatever’s most broken, a mechanical triage of sorts. And sure, they need a doctor at the end of the world, but there’s a surprising amount of downtime between sewing people’s organs closed and administering antidotes, and if there’s one thing everyone needs after the world ends, it’s a stiff drink.

She’s even started experimenting. Things get slow at the end of the world.

Keep reading

When Will Life Began - Chapter One: Edge of the Blade

Yes yes, starting a new one lol but is all because of @skdaks2 and all the wonderful Galra!Hunk created! It so cute and warm and I could just rave so much about it all.

So if you crave some Galra!Hunk and him as a Blade! Here ^^


Ao3 /

Zandu never would image how many turns and twists his life would take in such a short time. Especially since he crash on this backwater planet. To actually land on world were Zarkon and his Empire hadn’t reach seem like a dream. But to avoid one of the general’s cruiser, he fell here on Terra or as the locals called it ‘Earth’

Cute name.

And even cuter locals.

Within two ‘years’ of their planet’s rotation, Zanbu is ready to return back home after repairing his ship. Except now he would be carrying two more passengers on the trip home and back to join the fight.

It had been a long time coming.

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Raphael, the Dog Lover (TMNT)

This is the pitbull thing that was requested a while ago and I figured I’d write it while I’m in the swing of writing requests. ^.^ Plus this so cute and I love doggies…

My only issue is because I love doggies, I know there are several breeds of dog that are called ‘pit bull’. It’s a type of dog, not a breed. Personally I’m going to write the dog as a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Why? My own dog is a staffie, and a recuse for that matter.

Serious note before we get onto the fic, pit bulls are often victimised by the media but the dogs are sweethearts and anyone who knows anything about the breed is well aware of this. Owners are to blame. I say this as someone who owns a dog who was quite nasty when I got her. Now she is very sweet. Her old owner used to beat her. I think that speaks miles about it. Because of this abuse of the breeds known as pitbulls, most of them end up in shelters. About half a million pit bulls are euthanised in shelters every year, about 40% of all dogs euthanised. (Not that kill shelters aren’t a problem in and of themselves) Please, please, please, if you’re thinking of getting a dog, consider a pit. It’s a bit of a long story and this foreword is getting too long as it is, but my pitbull saved myself and my sister from being murdered. And it’s not we might have been hurt, we would have died. I’ll never forget that. And I’m not trying to say another dog breed wouldn’t do that, all dogs would but that’s my point. Pits are not these evil creatures the media makes them out to be. They’re dogs.


Raphael sighed, as he ventured the rooftops. Alone. Unusual for this time of night. He should be heading home, with his brothers but tonight had been different. He’d had a small… Exchange with Mikey forcing Leo and Donnie to step in- But dammit Mikey had started it with that dumb prank!

So now, he was taking the long way home. Descending from the city buildings, he made his way into the alleyway, only to hear… Whimpering? It was a strange noise but in a city like this it was one he could recognise as a dog. There were so many pet pooches around, he’d grown used to their noises.

While he could have just went home and forgot about the whole thing, he was up for anything in order to avoid going home to confront his family. So follow it he did, tracking the noise to the back of some garbage cans.

Lying there, nursing a clearly broken paw and a skeletal body, was the thinnest dog Raphael had ever seen. She whimpered and whined, licking at the blood seeping from the wound.

Raphael grunted a little, the sight unnerving him. Poor dog, how had she gotten into such a state? He wondered. “ Yer not lookin’ yer best, are ye, girl? ” He asked, making a few soft kissy noises to get her attention.

In response the dog’s head snapped up, her ears pinned back, a low growl escaping a throat. Raph slowly raises his hands.

“ S'alright, I’m not gonna hurt ya, ” He assured, trying to work out how to calm the canine. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small wrapper. It was just a cereal bar, mostly oatmeal and honey. He usually carried one or two on him, for working out if he got hungry so he didn’t need to stop. Unwrapping it, he held it out carefully to her.

The dog seemed to give a small sniff, examining the extended morsel before giving a few uncertain licks. Having come to the decision it was not dangerous and tasted good, she wolfed it down, her tail wagging heavily; beating against the ground.

“ There’s a good girl. Were you hungry? ” He asked, very slowly moving a hand towards her to sniff, clenched in a fist. At the sight, the dog howled, whimpering and trying to back off. Quickly Raph stopped and she calmed. He paused for a moment, frowning before he tried it again, his hand held loosely now. She seemed more calm with this, her wet nose rubbing his scales.

Raph clenched his teeth a little. “ It was a person that did this to you, wasn’t it girl? ” He asked, as she continued to explore his hand with her tongue. He wasn’t really sure why he was talking to the dog, she couldn’t talk back, it just felt more natural than silence.

After staying there for maybe ten, fifteen minutes, slowly building up some trust with her; Raph very carefully moved to slip his strong arms beneath her, scooping her up, paying no mind to the blood that coated his arm now.

The dog seemed somewhat happy to have the pressure taken off of her leg, it seemed. Slightly less so about the smell of the sewer.

Upon arriving, Mikey was the first to greet him, as usual. Looking up from the comic he was reading, he took a moment to register before gasping in shock.

“ Dude, that’s a dog, ” He said, leaning over the couch, childishly. Raph grunted.

“ Yes, Mikey, she’s a dog, ” Raph agreed, making his way to Donnie’s lab.

“ What’s wrong with her leg? And how’d you know she’s a she? ” Mikey asked.

“ Someone hurt her… And you can tell on pitbulls, ” He responded.

“ Pitbull? ” Donnie looked up from his work as Raph walked in, the messy bundle of chocolate and white fur in his arms still. Studying the creature as he rose out of his chair, he corrected, “ Actually I think she’s a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. While Pitbull is technically correct, that’s a type of dog, not a breed. ”

“ Whatever you say Kennel Club, can you help her? ” Raph asked nervously.

“ I don’t know, I’m no vet… I’ll call April and Casey, if they’re free I’ll ask one of them to take her to a vet. I’ll try and make her comfortable until then, ” Donnie agreed, clearing a space on the table for her while searching for his phone.

“ Al'ight, but don’t mess around, ” Raph agreed, patting soft ears as he placed her down.


It was a week later when Raph got a call. From April. Placing his weights to the side, he grabbed his phone and answered.

“ Hey? ” He asked, wondering what she wanted.

“ Hey, Raph, it’s about that dog you found. The vet’s prescribed her a medical plan and they’ve operated on her leg but they’ve had to amputate it, ” At the mention of this, Raph winced at the memory of the mangled leg. He wasn’t surprised, it’d been a mess. “ She’s really underweight but the vet says she should make a full recovery and she should still be able to walk once she figures out how to balance, ” April finished.

“ That’s great, I’m glad she’s doing good, ” Raphael told her, as he picked up a bottle of energy drink, downing half the bottle.

“ Yeah but now they want to know what to do with her. The state could take her but… The nearest shelter is a high kill one. So the vet asked if I wanted to take her… But I really don’t have the time for a dog. ”

“ You’re asking me if I want her? ” Raph asked.

“ Yeah, I am… I guess if you don’t we could try and find someone el- ”

“ No, ” He cut her off. “ I’ll take her, ” He agreed without a moment of hesitation. Master Splinter was going to kill him.

But it was the right thing to do.


Once she got home, she was like a new dog. Raph could hardly believe this dog April had brought with her was the same pitbull he’d found last week.

“ Thatta girl, ” He praised, rubbing her belly as she ambled over to him, still trying to perfect the balance of running on only three legs.

“ Are you going to name her? ” Leo asked, watching vaguely amused from the couch.

“ Name her? ”

“ Well, duh, she needs a name, ” Mikey quipped in response. “ I vote for Turtledog. Like Batdog, but a turtle. ”

Raphael rolled his eyes, considering for a moment. “ I don’t know, I’m no good at names, ” He admitted.

“ What about Tenshi? ” Leo offered idly. While Raph’s Japanese might not have been as great as his brothers, he could translate that well enough, Angel.

“ Mm, I guess it’s better than Turtledog, ” Raph agreed, chuckling as he pet her ears.

“ Oh and Raph, the vet mentioned something else, ” April said.

“ Really what? ”

“ Just to mention she’s recently had pups. Maybe she was part of a puppy farm and they decided they didn’t want her anymore? ” April offered, trying to explain it somehow.

Raphael nodded, looking back to Tenshi as she snuggled up to him. A sigh escaped him, “ Where are your babies girl? I hope they’re doing better than you were. ”


The next day, Raph was walking Tenshi. It was a little hard, given he had to avoid being seen and let her pee and all, but he managed it. Somehow. He didn’t have a leash but he didn’t seem to need one, as she happily plodded along.

At some point however, she seemed to be leading him, rather than him her.

“ Tenshi, Tenshi c'mere, where ye going girl? ” He called after her, carefully following as she crossed the street. This was near where he’d found her, only maybe a block or so away.

He continued to follow her, all the way to a seemingly abandoned warehouse, continuing to call after her but stubbornly she seemed to be ignoring him. Once inside, he followed her further, round the back of some dusty crates that hadn’t been touched in what could have been years.

There he found something most unusual. Tucked into a makeshift bed of the sheets that used to cover crates were four skinny puppies, guarded by a Dalmatian; his face battle scarred and worn.

Tenshi greeted the other dog happily, nuzzling and licking faced as Raph followed curiously. Upon getting closer the Dalmatian snarled, baring his fangs however Tenshi happily trotted up to him and pressed some slobbery kissed to his leg and the spotty dog accompanying her seemed to understand.

“ Tenshi, these are your babies, ” Raph said happily, a very proud smile on his face, his heart melting. He was glad his brothers weren’t around to see him consumed by his soft side. Carefully holding out a hand to pet the Dalmatian who was now equally as curious about him, he smiled. “ Is this yer mate? Has he been looking after yer pups? He’s a good boy, ” He praised, ruffling his ears.

“ C'mon, ” He said, gathering up the pups in the sheet with no protest from either parent. “ Let’s go home, all of us. ”


A year later, Raph lounged by the TV. To one side of him Tenshi was snuggled up to him. Her stomach was once more swollen with pups, she’d give birth soon. By his feet lay her loyal protector and 'Raph’s good boy’, Butch the Dalmatian. Only two of their first litter still remained in the Lair. Turtledog, who was of course Mikey’s bundle of fun and Hana (Flower in Japanese) who had become something of a therapy dog for Master Splinter. Beowulf and Godzilla were never far behind their master, Casey.

“ You want some beef jerky? ” Raph offered the dogs and at the mention of 'beef jerky’ Turtledog had somehow appeared from the woodwork for her fair share of the food. Hana didn’t seem so bothered, resting still by Splinter’s feet.

Looking around him, Raph was very happy he had decided to keep Tenshi. She had only brought their family happiness. She was an angel, just with four legs and a tail rather than wings.

Dutch girls from Zeeland protesting against Belgian annexation plans, the Hague 1919

Following the end of WWI Belgium accused the Netherlands of collaborating with Germany, due to letting German troops retreat through the Netherlands in 1918 and giving asylum to Emperor Wilhelm II. This was despite that fact that the Netherlands had also sheltered half a million Belgian refugees during the war. Belgium wanted the river Meuse as an eastern border and to annex Zeelandic Flanders (part of the Netherlands since the Dutch revolt) so the Netherlands could no longer close the Scheldt and the port of Antwerp. The plan failed and post-war relations between the two countries were chilly until the late 1930’s.

That the strength of the fear I have
Doesn’t stop me from seeing what I aim for

That the death of everything I believe in
Doesn’t cover my ears and my mouth
Because half of me is what I scream
But the other half is silence.

That the music I ear from far
Be beautiful despite sadness
That the woman I love will always be beloved
Despite the distance
Because half of me is departure
But the other half is longing.

That the words I speak
Are not heard as prayers nor repeated with fervour
Only respected
Like the only thing that is left for a man sank in feelings
Because half of me is what I hear
But the other half is what I shut up.

That this will of mine of leaving
Be transformed into quiet and peace I deserve
That this tension that eats me inside
Will be rewarded one day
Because half of me is what I think
But the other half is a vulcano.

That the fear of loneliness fades away, and the living with myself becomes bearable at least.

That the mirror reflects a sweet smile in my face
That I remember of seeing in childhood
Because half of me is the remainings of what I used to be
The other half I don’t know.

That I’m not just needed for a simple joy
To calm down my spirit
And that your silence talks more and more to me
Because half of me is shelter
But the other half is weariness.

That the art points us an answer
Even if it doesn’t know
And that no one tries to twist it
Because there needs to be simplicity to make it bloom
Because half of me is audience
The other half is song.

That my madness be forgiven
Because half of me is love

And the other half too

Metade (Half) Oswaldo Montenegro


Do you remember the taste of the water? Recycled so many times it could never be made pure again?

Do you remember the taste of metal in the air?

The stink of 20,000 souls crammed into a shelter designed for half that number?

Do you remember when the reveille bell rang at the exact moment the dome in shelter 41 collapsed?

It was exactly at 0600… Almost like cause and effect. The bell rang and woke everyone up a split second before they died.

As a boy, I remember thinking, “That’s so unfair.”

Travelers, Room 101 (s01 ep05)

A Hidden Shrine

“Father, all the Arts have their patron but this one.”

Oropher raised an eyebrow at his son, and a shadow creased his smile. “Do you not give your thanks to Aulë when the wire bends true, and mere metal becomes a song in the hand?”

“Of course,” said Thranduil, but he was a perceptive boy, and he saw the shape of something he was not being told.


The boy, bending wire into spiraling baubles, became a youth; the youth began to learn the arts of fire, and mere baubles became gleaming jewels, more suitable for wear than for dangling to adorn a window’s arch. He wore them in deliberate contrast to stark and elegant Oropher, and when he ran and danced with the other youth of Nivrim, often the chime of metal on metal accompanied him.

Still, the thought did not leave his mind that all other Arts had a patron; that all other patrons had a shrine, be it Aulë’s grotto tucked away beneath the roots of the greatest oak, or the open, living structure of intertwined trees dedicated to Elbereth herself. Aulë was the master of all crafts, yes - but in his shrine were the loom and the brush, the chisel and the potter’s wheel. The forge was conspicuous by its absence.

Still he could not find the answer; still the shape of something hidden teased at his mind. Asking bore no fruit, for the elder Elves merely frowned and asked why he wanted to know; pushing for an answer received only his mother’s gentle remonstrance, and an overheard argument wherein she wanted to tell him… whatever it was… and Oropher did not. “He is still too young,” Thranduil heard, and he clenched his teeth and crept away silently through the branches. He did not hear “I do not want to burden him yet,” nor did he hear “Our little wild thing will fly to the forbidden, so best we do not forbid.”

None the less, he was drawn to the vacuum, and in a surge of great feeling he ran. Down the boughs, into the carved and ornate cave that served his family as home, flying like the deer before the hounds. He took up his tools, and took a great breath, and ran again.

Past his own room, half sheltered in stone and half shaded by great trees, and out into the forest, to a place he and few others knew, he darted. It was a quiet limestone hollow, its entrance a low arch crowded by unshaped roots and hidden beneath an exuberant spray of flowering canes. A hollow in the trunk above let in light, filtered by leaves.

Inside was a low bench, crafted of twisted wood and carefully planed and polished. He swept aside the few bits of wire that adorned it.

What did a shrine need? Open space - the oak wood had that aplenty, and this little chamber had some of its own. Quiet seclusion - that was here also. And something to direct the mind, to focus the thoughts. To guide the work.

Thranduil knew not what he was focusing on, save that he felt keenly the lack of something to which to dedicate himself. Yet, he had a thought, and in careful secrecy he assembled it.

A ceramic tray, blackened from the fire below and glossed irregular white with flux above; a hammer, a delicate thing with a handle of silvery wood; a pair of copper tongs, impeccably clean, but their tips rainbowed with heat. Last, a single unburnt rod of charcoal, still showing the texture of the bare wood it had once been.

At last the youth arranged the tools upon the tray, blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he held, and sat back.

He contemplated his work for a short time, smiled, and took out a hair-fine wire, and a tiny glittering stone to spin upon it, to craft an earring. This was no place for hot work, not yet- but it could be, and perhaps it would.

In all innocence, he sat and worked his project, in contemplation of his new shrine to the Maia of the Forge.

I’d do it all again

I wish I could say enjoy, but I know I can’t. Sorry guys.

Matteo comes back from work later today. It’s already dark, really late and he feels bad about it because he wanted to spend more time at home recently. He slowly takes off his jacket and shoes sighing softly just to let his bag fall to the ground, not caring enough to go to his own office and leave it by his desk.

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CanUkr HCs

Hi, your local CanUkr lover here with some headcanons and concepts because the ship is adorable and needs so much more love.

Matthew = Canda, Katyusha = Ukraine (just bc some people use different names)

  • Matthew can never escape Katyusha’s cuddles, but he doesn’t really mind because she’s warm and basically glows with love around him.
  • Katyusha getting all flustered when Matthew tells her she’s beautiful or gorgeous or stunning and Matthew just loves it.
  • Katyusha and Matthew going to animal shelters together because they want to adopt them all, but if nothing else they’ll settle for volunteering because kittens and puppies.
  • Alfred eventually having to intervene because Katyusha and Matthew almost adopted half the shelter. They don’t have this much money, someone supervise them next time my god.
  • Katyusha making sure Matthew gets enough sleep and is well fed and is just healthy and happy in general and Matthew can’t get over how caring she is to him and everyone else.
  • Matthew loves the way Katyusha genuinely cares for everyone regardless of how they’ve treated (even though it’s not exactly a good way to think).
  • Katyusha feels the most comfortable with Matthew (other than Ivan) when it comes to being a man because he doesn’t sexualize her at all. Unless she wants to feel sexy, he keeps his hands to himself.
  • Awkward first dates and first kisses because neither of them have much experience with the whole romance thing.
  • Katyusha petting Kumajiro and Matthew whining because he isn’t getting as much attention as him.
  • Katyusha jokingly begins petting Matthew’s hair and they can’t stop laughing, what dorks.
  • Matthew is the little spoon. No questions asked. Case closed.
  • Katyusha is highkey the big spoon because she wants to protect him bye I’m a goner.
  • Matthew and Katyusha having a very strong bond in general before even thinking of romance.
  • Matthew considers Katyusha his lover AND his best friend, Katyusha considers him as the same.
  • Both of them respecting each other’s boundaries because they know how uncomfortable it is to have that line crossed.
  • Katyusha watching as Matthew listens to music because the nerd ends up headbanging. Even if it’s classical.
  • Katyusha joining him in said headbanging because “it looks like fun” and neither of them can stop laughing.
  • They would fight you if you hurt the other, no questions asked. You’re going down.
  • Katyusha and Matthew both feeling generally loved by the other.
  • Matthew not letting Katyusha forget she’s absolutely beautiful and gorgeous and that he loves her to death