this is how it should be!

2

……yeah they had me with the fuckin long hair

also decided im gonna give the other, lighter blue hellsite a try, even though i have no clue how to use it and i am afraid >>> find me on twitter

anonymous asked:

Please write something where Scully is attacked and Mulder helps her.

Some angst tonight! Tagging @always-angst, @today-in-fic and @fictober

After five years on the road with Scully, Mulder knows that motel room walls are paper-thin. So thin in fact that sometimes Mulder imagines watching Scully’s silhouette on the other side of the wall. They’re so thin that Scully can reiterate whatever movie he’s watched to fall asleep the night before. One of the reasons why, at least when they have adjoining rooms, Mulder no longer watches porn movies in his room. Tonight, they’re so thin that Mulder is woken by a gentle thumping noise against the wall. Thump, thump it goes without rhythm, hard, then harder. He rubs his eyes, listens. Thump, thump. Various scenarios run through Mulder’s mind as he gets up; he pays them no attention. Thump, thump. The adjoining door is unlocked and he tears it open, consequences be damned. Slivers of light stream in through the half closed blinds. They tear through the scene and paint it in surreal lighting. Mulder reacts before he even knows what is going on. There against the wall, pinned up high, is Scully. A large, fat hand around her throat keeps her there, strangulates and chokes her. Her feet dangle in the air, try to kick and fight. 

“Let her go!” Mulder’s yell reverberates through the room and the intruder turns to Mulder, bares his dirty, yellow teeth like an animal. His hand opens, lets go of Scully, who slips to the ground. Thump, only once; a sad sounds swallowed by the carpet. The attacker jumps at him and Mulder ducks. The other man crashes into the bedside table. Mulder watches him, prepares with balled fists, as his eyes catch Scully’s gun. He waits for the man to come at him again, avoids his fist, and finds himself on the other side. Mulder grabs Scully’s gun, aims and fires twice. The attacker collapses, goes down. Thud. Silence. 

“Scully.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he finds her on the ground, half leaning against the wall. His hands, like magnets, find her skin. Her throat is dotted with deep, dark purple spots. Her lips tinged bluish, her eyes closed and Mulder’s heart misses a beat. His hand is trembling as he checks for her pulse. Steady, strong. 

“Scully? Can you hear me? Scully?” She groans, but doesn’t open her eyes. Mulder doesn’t want to let go of her, let her out of his sight, but they need an ambulance and the police. “I’ll be right back, Scully.” He whispers and lets go of her hand. Mulder uses Scully’s cell phone to make the calls before he kneels down in front of her again. He doesn’t let go of her when the police arrives and asks him what happened. Her hand is still in his when they take her into the ambulance. Someone mentions he’s not wearing a shirt as the ambulance rattles through the street. Up until now, Mulder hasn’t even noticed.

They make him let go of her hand in the hospital. He screams and fights, but they wheel her away. ‘We’ll take care of your girlfriend’, a young doctor remarks before he hands Mulder green scrubs and jogs away. Mulder puts the rustling shirt on, his whole body shivering in cold or shock. The moments stretch on. Each time a door swings open, Mulder startles, waits. He should call Mrs. Scully, he knows. But what would he tell her? Your daughter was attacked by a mad robber. Not even case related. I couldn’t keep her safe, Mrs. Scully. Too many monsters and demons, too many mad men. Just a bad motel in a bad neighbor, a coincidence. He can’t call her, not now; it’ll have to wait. Let her sleep in peace for one more night. ‘We’ve been looking for this guy for ages’, a police officer praised him as they took the body away. Mulder barely heard the words and stared instead at the dent in the wall where Scully had kicked her feet against. Thump, thump. 

“Mr. Mulder?” The young doctor from earlier walks towards him, finally.  

“Can I see her?” That’s all he wants, needs. The doctor nods.

“She asked for you. She’s got a concussion, neck lesions. She’s strong, though. We’ll have to wait and see, but it looks like physically there’ll be no lasting damage. Psychologically it’s too early to tell. She seems tough.”

“She is.” Mulder answers. He wants to push the poor doctor out of the way and get to Scully. “I need to…” The doctor nods, understanding. He lets Mulder through. 

“Hi.” Mulder can’t help but smile as he sees Scully propped up in bed. There’s a bandage around her neck and her head where she must have suffered a wound. 

“Hi.” Her voice is raspy and Mulder swallows hard. 

“Do you know… do you remember what happened?“ Mulder asks her and sits down at the edge of her bed. He puts his hand on hers as it is resting on her leg. She nods. Her eyes are clear and determined. That’s my Scully, he thinks.

"I already told the police. They said you shot him?” Now it’s Mulder who nods. 

“I am so sorry, Scully. I should have been there sooner. I should have-” Scully puts her free hand over his and he quiets.

“None of this is your fault, Mulder. It could have happened to anyone, anywhere.”

“But it happened to you.” While on a case. While he was sleeping in the next room. “We’re going home, Scully. I don’t care about the case, I don’t care-”

“Mulder, no. We’re staying. At a different motel maybe,” she smiles at him and he blinks at her. How can she smile? How can she comfort him after what she’s just been through? Mulder laces his fingers with hers. He could have lost her today, again, and not to some unknown entity, or some invisible monster. “They said I could leave tonight.” She finishes, staring at their entwined hands.

“I’d rather you stay here, Scully. Just for one night.”

“Are you the doctor now?” She pokes his scrub-clad chest. "Green suits you.“

"No, I’m… I’m just worried about you. Wherever you sleep tonight, I’ll stay with you." 

"I don’t need you to-”

“I need to, Scully,” he squeezes her hand; he won’t let go. Even if he wanted to, he can’t. Needs to feel her skin against his, needs to know she’s safe now. Staring into her eyes, he knows that if he could, if she’d let him, he’d never leave her side ever again. Night or day. “I need to be with you tonight, Scully. Will you let me, please?" Her face is unreadable and he waits. He’d wait forever. Then, with a small nod and a faint blush, she nods.

"You can stay.”

MUNA AND HARRY STYLES: NO I WON’T SHUT UP

I’ve said before that I believe the work of allies is to use their privilege and influence to create space for the marginalized to tell their stories and speak their truth. This is what Harry is doing with MUNA. He’s given them this space and they OWN IT. They’re brilliant and amazing and, personally, I will be forever grateful that Harry introduced me to them.

Harry isn’t speaking to the experience of being a woman or a person of color or openly queer. He’s lifting up the voices of a band that IS all of those things. That speaks their truth nightly. Listen to their songs.

I will not treat it like a small thing because it’s not.

korrasami isn’t just a ship in a show

Originally posted by katiemcgraths

I’m legitimately surprised that I’m not the only one who has a “How Korrasami Saved Me” story— because, in all honesty, it did aid me in more ways than one.


I have been suffering from mild PTSD for years, and with a mindset that keeps helplessly drifting back to negativity, I keep thinking I’ll never get better. I always think I’m not going to overcome the traumatic experience I’ve went through; I felt like it’s a prison I’ll always be in, a sea that’s always pulling me back no matter how hard I try to swim to the shore, or come close to it.


Watching Korra suffer with her PTSD and the physical issues she’d gone through truly made me feel not so alone?? I know there are always other people who suffer like I do, or even worse — but seeing it up close, so intimately, with one of the characters I consider the closest to my heart.. that felt different. Completely, entirely different in such a magnificent way. I felt like I finally had a hand to hold through my recovery; a hand that believed the amount of pain I’m going through, and is willing to walk me through it.

Originally posted by korranation


When Korra was captured by Zaheer and got poisoned, the sheer helplessness and fear she was in really touched me. I think it’s because I’ve been there; I’ve been helpless against the traumatic event and feelings I went through. But afterwards, she hopped right back up, if only momentarily, when she was in the avatar state. Her sudden strength was so inspirational and empowering to me. To me, it felt like the need to fight my own demons with the same ferocity.


Originally posted by knock

Let’s not forget to mention how Asami was always undoubtedly there for Korra, and how understanding and compassionate she was. Asami supported her through every step of the way, through all the years, unconditionally.


Originally posted by avatarparallels

Korrasami really did lead me out of a very dark pit in my life, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Originally posted by aninounettear

the most upsetting thing about this whole situation is that by edward highlighting the fact that the kpop industry is full of skinny ppl, it made a lot of ppl look at kyla not only now as ‘fat’ but lazy, naive and stupid for choosing a career where she would stand out. ppl are talking about how she should ‘focus more on school’ and that she made ‘a child’s decision’ to become an idol when ‘she should have known’ she was going to be criticised 

its just rly upsetting that ppl are now not only criticising her for her body, but for choosing and working towards a career she’s passionate about and trying to make her seem foolish for it. she’s a 15 year old girl who’s achieved so much through her talent and hard work and ppl think they have the right to say she’s not entitled to being happy with her achievements bc of her weight. many other young idols are ‘allowed’ to be as happy and proud and successful as they should be, so why isn’t kyla?

Me a few hours ago: “Oh I can get this fic done by tonight.”

*sleeps for a few hours*

*googles how fast skin could heal and if it can heal fully or never be the same*

*gets side tracked and watches videogame walkthrough videos*

*after half an hour is suddenly watching surgical videos*

*sleeps for another hour*

*wakes up cause I forgot to eat all day*

*knocks out on the couch*

*jumps when my alarm for a ten paged essay goes off that’s due in a couple hours and I haven’t even started cause I forgot even though it was assigned a month ago*

Me rn: “Well, shit.”

anonymous asked:

So you are studying to become a 3D animator? This is probably going to be a dumb question but do you have to be a good drawer to pursue that career?

Hellll yeah I am! And of course you don’t really need to be a good drawer! I’ve always loved drawing though and I have a 2d animation background - BUT I have lots of classmates that have always hated drawing lol

It’s literally more physics based and having an understanding of the way things move - it’s almost in a way it’s own thing to learn.

However I do advise having good knowledge of anatomy because it helps knowing how things move and what reacts with what yah know? OH! and if you’re into acting that also helps a lot - my teacher always says that an animator is an actor who’s too afraid to be in front of the camera 😎

@silver-and-ivory  said: i don’t watch the show but this is an extremely relatable feel

oh man, it’s such a good show? like, it’s weird, and the protagonist is a duck, and there are dancing anthropomorphized animals, but it’s so good. I rewatched it three times in a row after I first saw it, back to back, because it was so good.

It’s been years since I saw it, but I’m glad I’m rewatching it now. Sophomore year bard had generally good taste in fiction, but I was both a lot closer to Duck’s age back then and a lot less capable of advanced analysis (although I do remember analyzing it endlessly, because it supports so very much of that for such a deceptively simple story).

You’re going to get such a weird view of it from me, though, Princess Tutu is one of the very few things in this world that I will 100% seriously refer to as “a masterpiece” and not worry at all about whether it deserves that title. possibly because with a name like Princess Tutu you have to be very insistent about these things if you want anyone to believe you

this isn’t a relevant response at all, and I promise I’m not actually trying to pressure you to watch a weird anime about ballet and a duck, if that is outside your interests, I’m just incapable of talking about this show without going on about how great it is

septembersung  asked:

Please tell us your favorite Wilbur poems/books of poems so we can memorialize him by reading his best work.

“To A Comedian”

You stand up for the interests of folk 
Who need a bedroom or a bathroom joke,
Told with a drumfire of such words as shit,
To job their jaded spirits for a bit.
It pays, you find, to give them what they’re after.
You are the clown who puts the ugh in laughter.

“Ceremony”

[…] What’s lightly hid is deepest understood,   
And when with social smile and formal dress   
She teaches leaves to curtsey and quadrille,   
I think there are most tigers in the wood. 

“Matthew VIII, 28FF”

Rabbi, we Gadarenes
Are not ascetics; we are fond of wealth and possessions.
Love, as You call it, we obviate by means
Of the planned release of aggressions.

We have deep faith in properity.
Soon, it is hoped, we will reach our full potential.
In the light of our gross product, the practice of charity
Is palpably non-essential.

It is true that we go insane;
That for no good reason we are possessed by devils;
That we suffer, despite the amenities which obtain
At all but the lowest levels.

We shall not, however, resign
Our trust in the high-heaped table and the full trough.
If You cannot cure us without destroying our swine,
We had rather You shoved off. 

“For C.” and  “The Sirens” are personal favorites.

“A Barred Owl”“Hamlen Brook” and “The Beacon,” are excellent examples of last line/stanza punches (at which Wilbur was particularly good).

“A Simile For Her Smile” and “A Dubious Night”, are delicious for their unusual parts of speech and word choices.

hey  reminder  that  nanc  has  autism  n  the  most  common  symptom  for  her  is  sensory  overloads  n  overstimulation  which  result  in  sudden  irritability  and  panic  ,  so  !

People need to stop acting like design choices in media just spring up out of nowhere. Its not like a teenager making an oc over the course of a few days and maybe not considering all the implications. Its not one person having a limited perspective and not seeing the issues with what theyve made. Its an entire team of people working around the clock to produce a polished product, and more than one person signing off on that product. Every design has to pass a multi-stage process of development over the course of months and go through several different people to reach fruition. That matters. Our mainstream media is not made by one lone craftsman quietly weaving their tales in solitude, its made by hundreds, even thousands of people working on several different levels of development, and the end result deserves to be judged accordingly

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Don’t laugh Bakugou, it’s a serious struggle