this is more like an experiment eh

anonymous asked:

how would aliens react to tattoos? like, some humans undergo large amounts of pain to have an image permanetly inked on their skin and sometimes the reason is no more than "eh, it looks cool"

“Human Tyler, you seem to have acquired pigmented particles under your skin.” Rytrinq began, trying to gain their attention at the same time as xe remained polite and considerate. “Do you wish time to cleanse yourself?” Xe asked, quite pleased with xemself for remembering the appropriate question.

“Fuck off, don’t be rude.” Human Tyler repeated, looking enraged for some reason. Granted, Rytrinq didn’t have the longest experience deciphering human mannerisms, but the wording didn’t leave much room for ambiguity. “This took a loot of time, and I’ll have you know I’m really happy with how it turned out.” They added, baffling Rytrinq further.

“You got dirt under your skin on purpose?” Xe asked, getting more confused each time Tyler spoke. Fortunately, it seemed they realised xe genuinely didn’t understand. Or at least they were willing to indulge him. 

“It’s not dirt. It’s ink, and yes. It’s called a tattoo. It’s art.” They said, clearly still angry, though they did look slightly less terrifying, which xe decided to count as progress. Xe had heard that human art came in many forms, but xe had never heard of one involving the human body itself.

“Human Tyler, that is immensely intriguing. How is it made?” Xe asked, relieved when they seemed to realise it was a case of cultural confusion rather than xem being purposefully rude.

“Well, you go to a tattoo artist, and they make the design and then make a sort of template, I guess you could call it. Anyway, they put that on the place you want the tattoo, and it transfers a bit of ink so the artist’s got something to guide them. And then they have this machine, which is basically a bunch of needles that pierce the skin with ink. Which the artist use to sort of draw on the skin, leaving cool art like this.” Human Tyler said, adding a pointed look for the last part while showing off the art. Rytrinq was however too worried - and quite frankly terrified - to think too much about it.

“It pierces your skin and drags the ink machine through your skin? Is that not painful?” Xe asked

“What? No, no it goes up and down into the skin. If you drag it without the needles getting up you’ll end up with big scars. It does kind of hurt, but it’s not that bad.” They answered, clearly believing that to sound better. As if getting stabbed multiple times was no big deal.

“What purpose does it serve? Is it a hierarchical or sociological requirement?”

“No, some people don’t even like them. Think they look unprofessional or whatever bullshit like that. But it doesn’t really have a purpose.” Human Tyler answered with a brief elevation of their shoulder area.

“Then why do you put yourself through the pain?” Xe wondered. They had to have some reason after all, right?

“Eh, it looks cool. I mean, I just really like daffodils, always have. They’re cool.” They said, once again reminding Rytrinq that xe would never fully understand humans.

comp het shit

  • liking only fictional men
  • a relationship with a woman sounds far more exciting
  • you could be with a man, but it’s never been something you’ve been particularly excited about
  • you like a boy until he likes you back
  • usually hetero scenes in movies either bore or disgust you
  • if you id as bi/pan you have to make sure people know you like girls more
  • you feel gross when boys show interest in you
  • you feel like being with boys is a chore
  • your attraction to men just doesn’t feel as genuine
  • saying you’re bi/pan makes you uncomfortable but you don’t feel gay enough to say gay
  • you show a lot of interest in wlw media but feel like you shouldn’t
  • when you imagine the man you would end up with, there’s nothing unique about him. just a general man
  • girls make your heart flutter, boys make you go “eh okay i guess”

this is only from my personal experience, but i know a lot of other lesbians experienced things like this too. feel free to add anything else!

For @aveanexalea , since he requested it and it was on my vote list.

Back in the early portion of the cold war, US air planners and air defence controllers had a major problem. In the day and age of a single modern bomber being able to take out an entire city, or multiple in a single mission, the US had to guarantee that to the best of their ability to be able to take down as many soviet bombers as possible, preferably all of them, in the event of an atomic conflict.

From past experience, they knew that the “bomber would always get through”, especially when used in mass bomber swarms, or combat boxes, as was the US term. (More of a specific bomber formation doctrine, but eh). Conventional Anti-aircraft measures could and would down some of the bombers, but a large volume would get through. Any Soviet bombers escaping air defences would more than likely result in destroyed US cities and the millions of preventable casualties that would follow.

This was unacceptable. The USAF, taking a page from their Army comrades, decided to go nuclear. The US army’s doctrine was to use atomic munitions to vaporize soviet armoured divisions if they were able to roll through any conventional weapons, for the defence of Western Europe. The USAF decided that an atomic device air-burst in the middle of a soviet bomber formation would do just the trick.

New developments in US Atomics research had allowed for the development of sealed pit devices.

“A weapon “boosted” by tritium and deuterium gas would use much less fissile material to produce a large explosion. Right before the moment of detonation, these hydrogen gases would be released into the weapon’s core. When the core imploded, the gases would fuse, release neutrons, multiply the number of fissions, and greatly increase the yield. And because the fissile core would be hollow and thin, a lesser amount of explosives would be needed to implode it. As a result, boosted weapons could be light and small.“

Eric Schlosser,  Command and Control: Nuclear Weapons, the Damascus Accident, and the Illusion of Safety.  (New York: The Penguin Press, 2013), Pg. 103.

This new development allowed for more powerful weapons in smaller packages.

This allowed the Air-2 Genie to pack the punch it required.

The Air-2 Genie represented the first sealed-pit weapon to enter US stockpile. With conventional air-to air weapons proving inadequate, and the threat of a single Soviet aircraft wreaking havoc on the mainland US, the USAF deemed the safest option for the downing of US bombers was the detonation of small atomic devices over the skies of the mainland United States, Alaska, and Canada. 

This “view was endorsed in March 1955 by James R. Killian, the president of MIT, who headed a top secret panel on the threat of surprise attack”. - “The Genie would be carried by Air Force fighter-interceptors. It had a small, 1.5-kiloton warhead and a solid-fueled rocket engine. Unlike conventional air defense weapons, it didn’t need a direct hit to eliminate a target. And it could prove equally useful against a single Soviet bomber or a large formation of them”.


The Genie was to be fired upon contact with a Soviet bomber. The sooner the better for the sake of the US, as will be explained in detail below. 

The on board fire computer would calculate the distance to the bomber, or bombers, and set the on board timer for the Air-2 Genie. After launch, the US fighter would bank hard and roll out and away from the projected device initiation point. Initiation of the device would occur once the timer ran out. The rocket would speed towards the hostile aircraft at Mach 3.3 powered by a solid fueled Thiokol SR49 rocket motor. Primary kill effects were caused surprisingly enough not by blast or heat, which, despite the low yield of 1.5 kilotons, were still effective out to a great distance. The Fireball would consume any aircraft within a hundred yards, yet the most effective killing agent of this device was the prompt radiation released. Even a bad miss could still kill, given that the lethal envelope of the prompt radiation had a radius of about a mile with “the “probability of kill” (PK) within that envelope [found] to be 92 percent”.

“The Soviet aircrew’s death from radiation might take as long as five minutes—a delay that made it even more important to fire the Genie as far as possible from urban areas. Detonated at a high altitude, the weapon produced little fallout and didn’t lift any debris from the ground to form a mushroom cloud. After the bright white flash, a circular cloud drifted from the point of detonation, forming an immense smoke ring in the sky”.


The discussion of permission to fire these devices was brought up, and how a request to fire the devices may be delayed to the point where several US cities may well have gone up in smoke. In response to these concerns, the use of these devices were pre-delegated to the USAF, by Eisenhower in April 1956, with the actual order coming into effect in December.

In effect, the USAF was able to fire atomic air-to-air rockets at any target that was deemed ‘hostile’. While the joint chief’s of staff demanded that these devices were to be locked up in storage igloos, and never to be flown over the United States except in war time. Presumably, the reality of this was that a large volume of air interceptors were on the deck ready to jet in the event of a conflict. At first warning of the DEW line, Mid-Canada line or the Pine-tree Line, the aircraft would be armed, with Genies extracted from their storage sheds, with the air interceptors, now armed with atomic rockets, sent to intercept the soviet waves of bombers.

To prove the device safe in use, the USAF conducted  Operation Plumbbob on 19 July 1957. This proved to be the only live firing of a Air-2 Genie missile, which initiated somewhere  between 18,500 and 20,000 ft (5,600 and 6,100 m) above mean sea level. (Sources vary). A group of five USAF officers volunteered to stand hatless in their light summer uniforms underneath the blast to prove that the weapon was safe for use over populated areas. They were photographed by Department of Defense photographer George Yoshitake who stood there with them. Gamma and neutron doses received by observers on the ground were negligible. Doses received by aircrew were highest for the fliers assigned to penetrate the airburst cloud ten minutes after explosion.


As shown in the video above, with the description just above, “The
officers wore summer uniforms and no protective gear. A photograph, taken at the moment of detonation, shows that two of the men instinctively ducked, two shielded their eyes, and one stared upward, looking straight at the blast. “It glowed for an instant like a newborn sun,” Time magazine reported, “then faded
into a rosy, doughnut-shaped cloud.”

Eric Schlosser,  Command and Control: Nuclear Weapons, the Damascus Accident, and the Illusion of Safety.  (New York: The Penguin Press, 2013), Pg. 105. 

Problems arise.  

Inevitably , problems began to arise. Given that sealed-pit weapons were quite new, with this model of weapon being the first in stockpiles, how safe were they? This was a bit of an unknown, one that needed to be found out when thousands of these devices would be put on airfields and storage facility’s across the country, many within city limits.

The U.S. government was quite public about the Genie missile. 

“When atomic bombs were first transferred to SAC bases in French Morocco, the French government wasn’t told about the weapons. But the deployment of Genies at air bases throughout the United States was announced in an Air Force press release.”

“The possibility of any nuclear explosion occurring as a result of an accident involving either impact or fire is virtually nonexistent,” Secretary of Defense Wilson assured the public”. 
His press release reported “that someone standing on
the ground directly beneath the high-altitude detonation of a Genie would be exposed to less radiation than “a hundredth of a dose received in a standard (medical) X-ray.”


However, it should be noted that “His press release about the
Genie didn’t mention the risk of plutonium contamination”,
not from an airburst anti-bomber detonation, but from an accidental surface burst.

The risks of plutonium exposure were becoming more apparent in the mid-1950s. Although the alpha particles emitted by plutonium are too weak to penetrate human skin, they can destroy lung tissue when plutonium dust is inhaled. Anyone within a few hundred feet of a weapon accident spreading plutonium can inhale a swiftly lethal dose. Cancers of the lung, liver, lymph nodes, and bone can be caused by the inhalation of minute amounts. And the fallout from such an accident may contaminate a large area for a long time. Plutonium has a half-life of about twenty-four thousand years. It remains hazardous throughout that period, and plutonium dust is hard to clean up. “The problem of decontaminating the site of [an] accident may be insurmountable,” a classified Los Alamos report noted a month after the Genie’s onepoint
safety test, “and it may have to be ‘written off’ permanently.” “.

Understandably, this would drive the civilian members in charge of safety quite quickly to protest, with the very thought of having to inform the public that a section, or perhaps all of a major US city would be uninhabitable for an extremely extended period being almost unthinkable.

There was heavy debate actually among those in the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC), as to whether use a plutonium, or uranium-235 base for the fission products in the genie devices. 

“In one respect, uranium-235 seemed to be safer. It has a half-life of about seven hundred million years—but emits radiation at a much lower rate than plutonium, greatly reducing the inhalation hazard. And yet a Genie with a uranium core had its own risks. Norris Bradbury, the director of Los Alamos, warned the AEC that such a core was “probably not safe against one-point detonation.” In effect, shrapnel, or a stray bullet, or what have you from an aircraft crash, or sabotage, or whatever incident may well cause the device to, quite frankly, initiate. Heck, even a fire could cause it. 

In short, using uranium as the base fission product, the Genies would fail the one-point safety test, and could be set off very easily. Using Uranium as the base fission product, “Impact tests revealed that when the Genie was armed, it didn’t need a firing signal to detonate. The Genie could produce a nuclear explosion just by hitting the ground”.

Ibid-Pg 107

Understandably, “given the choice between an accident that might cause a nuclear explosion and one that might send a cloud of plutonium over an American city, the Air Force preferred the latter. Handmade, emergency capability Genies were rushed into production, with cores that contained plutonium”.

Ibid.-Pg 105

Even with the one-point safety test proven, there was still the potential for complications.
“The one-point safety tests at Nevada Test Site had provided encouraging results, and yet the behavior of a nuclear weapon in an “abnormal environment”—like that of a fuel fire ignited by a plane crash—was still poorly understood. During a fire, the high explosives of a weapon might burn; they might detonate; or they might burn and then detonate. And different weapons might respond differently to the same fire, based on the type, weight, and configuration of their high explosives. For firefighting purposes, each weapon was assigned a “time factor”—the amount of time you had, once a weapon was engulfed in flames, either to put out the fire or to get at least a thousand feet away from it. The time factor for the Genie was three minutes”.

Ibid.- Pg 109

Heck, there was concern that the fire may even start the standard detonation process.

“The heat of a fire might start the thermal batteries, release high-voltage
electricity into the X-unit, and then set off the bomb. To eliminate that risk, heat-sensitive fuses were added to every sealed-pit weapon. At a temperature of 300 degrees Fahrenheit, the fuses would blow, melting the connections between the batteries and the arming system. It was a straightforward, time-honored way to interrupt an electrical circuit, and it promised to ensure that a high temperature wouldn’t trigger the detonators”.


In 1977, a study was completed that reported that “despite being the oldest sealed-pit weapon in the stockpile, vulnerable to lightning, and fitted
with an outdated accelerometer, the Genie was still being loaded onto fighter planes”.

Ibid. Pg. 223

In the end, over 3000 Genie’s were produced, being used by both the USAF from 1957 to 1985, and the R.C.A.F. from 1965 to 1984.

Here, have this for your troubles.


Wiki, for basic info-

Schlosser, Eric.  Command and Control: Nuclear Weapons, the Damascus Accident, and the Illusion of Safety.  New York: The Penguin Press, 2013.

So I am no longer in charge of Slime, which if you’re not familiar with that story I would get yourself a snack and give it a read because…. it’s long. It’s a long, long saga of slime. Instead, they’re having me do the Saturday morning kids classes. Or rather, they’re continuing to have me do the morning classes because… why train someone else to work with unattended small children when we’ve already broken this one’s spirit? 

And if you were internetting at the same time I was last night, you were probably aware that my girlfriend and I were making friendship bracelets. Which is very cute, but the reason we were doing that was because today I was supposed to teach little kids how to make them. I’d never made one successfully before and the directions were super unhelpful, so she was showing me how. (Well… it’s still pretty stompin’ cute in the context). 

So what I learned last night was that they really are a labor of love because if you tried to sell them at the fair cost of labor, no one would buy it at that price and you really gotta like that person to put in all that work and then give it away for free. 

“Oh, how shall I, a mere child, show the bonds of our unending friendship? I shall develop early stages of carpal tunnel syndrome as a symbol of our platonic love!”

This is a childhood experience that I never had. Ostensibly because I was the crafty person in the school and I had all of two (2) friends and … eh. Eh. It was the 90′s and my homework already resembled a mountain, so… eh. 


The bracelet that I was supposed to make was a chevron, but it looks more like argyle. Which is a look I dig but I’m mentally preparing dialogue for when someone is upset it doesn’t look like it should.  

There is no way in the squishiest layers of Hell that a four-year old is going to figure out how to make this. I’m 30 and I’m screwing up, so I figure I’ll have a couple of simpler options.  Basically, I would have them braid their colors together and put beads on it. Seems simple, right?

… ha… haha… oh. 

I’m sure that my plan would have potentially worked if there were different circumstances, but here we are… 

I had… no students. 


11:45, fifteen minutes before I was meant to close up. And then I had two. Then five. Then seven, nine, ten. As soon as I gave kids instructions to pick out their colors, more would come in. So half the room was bored and waiting for me to start and the other half was spending a lot of time trying to decide which color pink they want. One of them has her arm in a cast. Something wasn’t thought through. 

It is 11:55 when I finally get started. 

“Measure the length from your wrist to your elbow, and then double it.” 

Three adults failed this part. 

“Fold it in half and tie a knot at the top.”

One kid failed this part. 

“Do y’all know how to braid?” A mix of nods and shakes. “Okay, if you know how to braid, go ahead and braid your colors together.”

Three adults failed this part. I had to teach one kid how to braid because his mom refused to show him and eventually just took over herself. None of the parents were willing to help their kids learn, because they insisted that they already knew but clearly did not. I had to teach some of the adults. 

About halfway through this, a kid says “when are we going to make the slime?”

“Slime isn’t until one-o-clock.”

“We thought this was the slime thing.”

How do you get halfway through a friendship braid tutorial and realize that it isn’t slime? Did you think we were going to put it in the slime? Did you think that we were going to dip it in borax and it was going to suddenly be slime somehow? Did you miss the part in the beginning when I said ‘are you here to make friendship bracelets?’ Because I said that to literally everyone that came in through the doors. 

“Okay, now you’re going to put your beads on.” This part they knew how to do. “And when you’re done, you’re going to put a bead over one end and tie a knot around it, then do the same on the other side.”

All of the adults failed this part. 

Around this time, three girls abandoned the craft for their mom to finish in favor of watching whatever mindless children’s entertainment was being played in the baby carriage belonging to a completely different family. So they’ve just left the whole thing to their mother, who is frantically trying to finish because these kids have already learned the age-old art of ‘make someone else do it.’ 

We’re down to seven people and one of the youngest says ‘face painting.’

“The ad said that there’d be face painting.”

“Face painting?”


Suddenly they all want their faces painted. It is 12:25, the class ended 25 minutes ago, I’m supposed to clock out in five minutes, and seven kids are now under the impression that we’re doing face painting. 

“Face painting isn’t until next week. Next week.”

And now… tears. 

The one that brought it up knocked over a bucket of perler beads. The mom is now screaming at her, everyone is upset and I am now ten minutes late to clock out. Some of them are still asking about slime, so now they’re alternating between slime and face painting and the truth is that they want both, but I’m giving them neither and oh man… toddlers are not a pleasant sight when you tell them that they don’t have any choice in the matter. 

They finally figure that the best thing to do is leave, no one is happy, and I’m pretty sure the little one is grounded. 

All of this- all of this

All of this could have been avoided if you’d shown up fifteen minutes later, but sure- Zerg rushing the teacher seems like a way better plan, doesn’t it?

As I am cleaning up the string mess, a line is forming at the door.

“Is this the slime thing?”

“It hasn’t started yet.”

“I’ll wait.” Haha. I’ve played this game. You’ll wait, but you’ll complain to my manager that we made you wait for the event to open before letting you in. 

I finish cleaning up, I get out the door, and the same woman jumps to get into the classroom.

“It doesn’t start until one, ma’am.”

“It said noon!”

“One to three. The event is one til three.”

I know that the color ‘puce’ is hotly contested in terms of it’s actual definition, but her face turned the puciest color I have ever seen. Her son is tugging impatiently at her pant leg. She tells her tiny human that he has to wait longer. 

Haha, don’t care. I’m out, kiddos!

This post is brought to you by Children’s Tears. 

Give us this for 308!!!


“You look rather like a baboon,” I observed.

“Oh, aye? And what’s one of those?” In spite of the freezing November air pouring in through the half-open window, Jamie showed no signs of discomfort as he dropped his shirt onto the small pile of clothing.

He stretched luxuriously, completely naked. His joints made little popping noises as he arched his back and stretched upward, fists resting easily on the smoke-dark beams overhead.

“Oh, God, it feels good not to be on a horse!”

“Mm. To say nothing of having a real bed to sleep in, instead of wet heather.” I rolled over, luxuriating in the warmth of the heavy quilts, and the relaxation of sore muscles into the ineffable softness of the goose-down mattress.

“D’ye mean to tell me what’s a baboon, then?” Jamie inquired, “Or are ye just makin’ observations for the pleasure of it?” He turned to pick up a frayed willow twig from the washstand, and began to clean his teeth. I smiled at the sight; if I had had no other impact during my earlier sojourn in the past, I had at least been instrumental in seeing that virtually all of the Frasers and Murrays of Lallybroch retained their teeth, unlike most Highlanders—unlike most Englishmen, for that matter.

“A baboon,” I said, enjoying the sight of his muscular back flexing as he scrubbed, “is a sort of very large monkey with a red behind.”

He snorted with laughter and choked on the willow twig. “Well,” he said, removing it from his mouth, “I canna fault your observations, Sassenach.” He grinned at me, showing brilliant white teeth, and tossed the twig aside. “It’s been thirty years since anyone took a tawse to me,” he added, passing his hands tenderly over the still-glowing surfaces of his rear. “I’d forgot how much it stings.”

“And here Young Ian was speculating that your arse was tough as saddle leather,” I said, amused. “Was it worth it, do you think?”

“Oh, aye,” he said, matter-of-factly, sliding into bed beside me. His body was hard and cold as marble, and I squeaked but didn’t protest as he gathered me firmly against his chest. “Christ, you’re warm,” he murmured. “Come closer, hm?” His legs insinuated themselves between mine, and he cupped my bottom, drawing me in.

He gave a sigh of pure content, and I relaxed against him, feeling our temperatures start to equalize through the thin cotton of the nightdress Jenny had lent me. The peat fire in the hearth had been lit, but hadn’t been able to do much yet toward dispelling the chill. Body heat was much more effective.

“Oh, aye, it was worth it,” he said. “I could have beaten Young Ian half-senseless—his father has, once or twice—and it would ha’ done nothing but make him more determined to run off, once he got the chance. But he’ll walk through hot coals before he risks havin’ to do something like that again.”

He spoke with certainty, and I thought he was undoubtedly right. Young Ian, looking bemused, had received absolution from his parents, in the form of a kiss from his mother and a swift hug from his father, and then retired to his bed with a handful of cakes, there no doubt to ponder the curious consequences of disobedience.

Jamie too had been absolved with kisses, and I suspected that this was more important to him than the effects of his performance on Young Ian.

“At least Jenny and Ian aren’t angry with you any longer,” I said.

“No. It’s no really that they were angry so much, I think; it’s only that they dinna ken what to do wi’ the lad,” he explained. “They’ve raised two sons already, and Young Jamie and Michael are fine lads both; but both of them are more like Ian—soft-spoke, and easy in their manner. Young Ian’s quiet enough, but he’s a great deal more like his mother—and me.”

“Frasers are stubborn, eh?” I said, smiling. This bit of clan doctrine was one of the first things I had learned when I met Jamie, and nothing in my subsequent experience had suggested that it might be in error.

He chuckled, soft and deep in his chest.

“Aye, that’s so. Young Ian may look like a Murray, but he’s a Fraser born, all right. And it’s no use to shout at a stubborn man, or beat him, either; it only makes him more set on having his way.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I said dryly. One hand was stroking my thigh, gradually inching the cotton nightdress upward. Jamie’s internal furnace had resumed its operations, and his bare legs were warm and hard against mine. One knee nudged gently, seeking an entrance between my thighs. I cupped his buttocks and squeezed gently.

“Dorcas told me that a number of gentlemen pay very well for the privilege of being smacked at the brothel. She says they find it…arousing.”

Jamie snorted briefly, tensing his buttocks, then relaxing as I stroked them lightly.

“Do they, then? I suppose it’s true, if Dorcas says so, but I canna see it, myself. There are a great many more pleasant ways to get a cockstand, if ye ask me. On the other hand,” he added fairly, “perhaps it makes a difference if it’s a bonny wee lassie in her shift on the other end o’ the strap, and not your father—or your nephew, come to that.”

“Perhaps it does. Shall I try sometime?” The hollow of his throat lay just by my face, sunburned and delicate, showing the faint white triangle of a scar just above the wide arch of his collarbone. I set my lips on the pulsebeat there, and he shivered, though neither of us was cold any longer.

“No,” he said, a little breathless. His hand fumbled at the neck of my shift, pulling loose the ribbons. He rolled onto his back then, lifting me suddenly above him as though I weighed nothing at all. A flick of his finger brought the loosened chemise down over my shoulders, and my ni**les rose at once as the cold air struck them.

His eyes were more slanted than usual as he smiled up at me, half-lidded as a drowsing cat, and the warmth of his palms encircled both breasts.

“I said I could think of more pleasant ways, aye?”

The candle had guttered and gone out, the fire on the hearth burned low, and a pale November starlight shone through the misted window. Dim as it was, my eyes were so adapted to the dark that I could pick out all the details of the room; the thick white porcelain jug and basin, its blue band black in the starlight, the small embroidered sampler on the wall, and the rumpled heap of Jamie’s clothes on the stool by the bed.

Jamie was clearly visible, too; covers thrown back, chest gleaming faintly from exertion. I admired the long slope of his belly, where small whorls of dark auburn hair spiraled up across the pale, fresh skin. I couldn’t keep my fingers from touching him, tracing the lines of the powerfully sprung ribs that shaped his torso.

“It’s so good,” I said dreamily. “So good to have a man’s body to touch.”

“D’ye like it still, then?” He sounded half-shy, half-pleased, as I fondled him. His own arm came around my shoulder, stroking my hair.

“Mm-hm.” It wasn’t a thing I had consciously missed, but having it now reminded me of the joy of it; that drowsy intimacy in which a man’s body is as accessible to you as your own, the strange shapes and textures of it like a sudden extension of your own limbs.

I ran my hand down the flat slope of his belly, over the smooth jut of hipbone and the swell of muscled thigh. The remnants of firelight caught the red-gold fuzz on arms and legs, and glowed in the auburn thicket nested between his thighs.

“God, you are a wonderful hairy creature,” I said. “Even there.” I slid my hand down the smooth crease of his thigh and he spread his legs obligingly, letting me touch the thick, springy curls in the crease of his buttocks.

“Aye, well, no one’s hunted me yet for my pelt,” he said comfortably. His hand cupped my own rear firmly, and a large thumb passed gently over the rounded surface. He propped one arm behind his head, and looked lazily down the length of my body.

“You’re even less worth the skinning than I am, Sassenach.”

“I should hope so.” I moved slightly to accommodate his touch as he extended his explorations, enjoying the warmth of his hand on my naked back.

“Ever seen a smooth branch that’s been in still water a long time?” he asked. A finger passed lightly up my spine, raising a ripple of gooseflesh in its wake. “There are tiny wee bubbles on it, hundreds and thousands and millions of them, so it looks as though it’s furred all about wi’ a silver frost.” His fingers brushed my ribs, my arms, my back, and the tiny down-hairs rose everywhere in the wake of his touch, tingling.

“That’s what ye look like, my Sassenach,” he said, almost whispering. “All smooth and naked, dipped in silver.”

Then we lay quiet for a time, listening to the drip of rain outside. A cold autumn air drifted through the room, mingling with the fire’s smoky warmth. He rolled onto his side, facing away from me, and drew the quilts up to cover us.

I curled up behind him, knees fitting neatly behind his own. The firelight shone dully from behind me now, gleaming over the smooth round of his shoulder and dimly illuminating his back. I could see the faint lines of the scars that webbed his shoulders, thin streaks of silver on his flesh. At one time, I had known those scars so intimately, I could have traced them with my fingers, blindfolded. Now there was a thin half-moon curve I didn’t know; a diagonal slash that hadn’t been there before, the remnants of a violent past I hadn’t shared.


“Daddy! Daddy!”

Rosie Watson comes thundering into Mrs. Hudson’s flat, her thin blond plaits fluttering behind her, her little Doc Marten boots pounding on the floorboards. Her favourite stuffed toy, Penny the Penicillin Microbe, is clutched to her chest and her eyes are wide as saucers; previous experience has taught John that his daughter has either discovered something terrifying or wonderful, and the likelihood of either is entirely dependant on whether she was with Uncle Sherlock when the breakthrough occurred.

With an indulgent smile Mrs. Hudson pats her on her head as she dodges around the older woman’s legs to fling herself on her father, Penny the Penicillin smacking him soundly in the backside as she does so.

The “oomph!” noise he makes causes Martha to chuckle.

“Alright then, young lady,” John says, staring down at his daughter with what he hopes is a mixture of sternness and reassurance. “What’s brought all this on, eh?”

Rosie stares up at him, lip wobbling, and it’s only now she’s close that John sees her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. Immediately his face softens.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks more gently, settling himself on Mrs. Hudson’s couch and swinging the child up into his lap. He sets her on his knee. “What’s the matter?”

The little girl stares up at him and sighs, giving every impression of a Christian who’s about to be tossed to some particularly peckish lions.

“It’s- It’s about Uncle Sherlock,” she says, dropping her voice until John has to lean in to hear her. “I saw him upstairs with Aunty Molly and, and I think… I think something’s wrong with him!”

Keep reading

Imagine #5 - Elevator Encounter

You ran down the hallway of the convention hotel in your town. Out of lack of rooms, your school had permission to use some conference rooms and decided to move all the art classes for higher grades there. That meant you had about 5 minutes to get from your school to the hotel halfway across the town, though. Luckily, this was the last class of the day for you so you only needed to hurry through town once.

“No, nononono!” you muttered under your breath as you turned the corner and saw that one of the elevators was just closing the doors. You knew that waiting for another one to arrive on your floor was like playing roulette and taking the stairs would take too long as well. Not to mention that you really were not in the mood to take the stairs up to the 10th floor.  

You prevented the doors from closing all the way by quickly sticking one of your sketchbooks in the small gap. As soon as it fully opened up again, your eyes widened at the sight of already a good amount of people inside of it. They all turned their heads to look at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized and tried to catch your breath. You could feel the heat rise up to your cheeks that were most likely tinted in a dark shade of pink by then. “I’m just gonna wait for the next one.”

“Nonsense,” a brunette guy said and nodded for you to get in. “Which floor did you need to get on?”

“Uh, 10th, thanks,” you answered, then standing next to a blond guy that was significantly taller than you.

“No problem,” he answered smiling. “I’m Ellington by the way.”

“(Y/N),” you answered, lightly smiling back. Everyone else introduced themselves and if you were remembering correctly, you were standing next to Riker. Next to him was Rocky and across from you were Ellington, Ross and Rydel.

The doors opened on floor 6 but no one was moving to get out. “This isn’t your floor either?” you asked, not actually knowing where they were headed.

“No, we’re going one above yours,” Ross answered, seemingly not fazed by the random stop at all.

Fantastic. Of course, the elevator had to stop at random floors just for the fun of it. You leaned your head back and sighed quietly while the doors closed again.

“Everything okay?” Riker asked from next to you.

“Yeah, these elevators are just worse than any gambling game,” you laughed lightly. “And I have a class that actually started a couple minutes ago already.”

Right as you said that, you arrived at floor ten. “Well, it was nice meeting you all,” you waved and stepped out.

“You too,” they replied. “Maybe we’ll see you around again.”

After your class ended, you had some time to kill and decided to sit down in the little café that was part of the hotel. Scribbling in your sketchbook to figure out some concepts for the assignment you just got, you heard voices approaching you.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Rydel said, smiling from widely. “Mind if we join you?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head and made some room on the table since your things took up most of the space. Rocky and Ross were sitting down next to you, the others scattering around the rest of the table.

“Your description of the elevator being like a gambling game was pretty accurate, by the way,” Riker laughed.

“Oh yeah? How many times did it take you to get to your floor?”

“I think it was 3 or 4 times,” Ellington overdramatically sighed and rolled his eyes. “But how was your class?”

You tried not to groan at the thought of the past one and a half hours, but it was to no avail. “Let’s just say that I can’t think of anything more boring than being stuck in a History of Typography lesson that is 100% theoretical for 90 minutes,” you chuckled causing everyone else to let out a small laugh as well. “At least the assignment we got is practical. But what were you doing? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s fine,” Rydel waved her hand dismissively. “We had a little band meeting and finished earlier than expected so now we have the rest of the day off. Then we thought we could check out this café,” she smiled.

“Oh, you’re all in a band?” you wondered and tried to hide the fact that you were a little surprised. They seemed so normal and down-to-earth, you never would’ve guessed they were in a band.

“Yeah, R5,” Ross piped up from next to you. “Ever heard of it?”

You shook your head no and gave them an apologetic smile. “I will totally check your stuff out, though.”

“Is this for your assignment?” Rocky suddenly spoke up. Just then you noticed that he had taken the sketchbook that had been lying in front of you and was flipping through the pages. Usually, it was the probably biggest pet peeve of yours when someone would just flip through your sketches without asking beforehand. Seeing that this was the book especially for schoolwork and it was getting graded and critiqued by pretty much everyone anyways, you condoned it.

“Yeah, it’s just a rough draft of the first couple ideas, though. It most likely won’t look anything like that in the end.” Your eyes followed the book that was now making its way around the whole table.

“They are really good for just rough drafts,” Riker noted and passed it to Ross, who seemed to be eagerly taking a look at every page.

“Yeah,” Ellington agreed. “Maybe we will hit you up in the future when we need some new designs.”

“Thanks,” you blushed. “But I’m sure you would want someone with an actual degree or at least a lot more experience.”

“Eh, who cares about degrees when the final product is awesome?” Ross shrugged and handed you the book back.

You kept chatting for a while, getting to know each other more, until you realized that it was time for you to go. They asked to exchanges numbers so you handed your phone over and got theirs to put your number in.

“So, (Y/N), if you ever want to get away from boring history class assignments, we have a show coming up soon and could sneak you a ticket if you want,” Riker smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

You laughed. “I’ll keep that offer in mind, thanks.”

“Just shoot one of us a text or something,” Rydel pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tight. “Not only because of that, but in general. You’re pretty cool.”

“You guys are pretty cool, too.” You grinned at your new friends.

You said your goodbyes and walked down the street, smiling while recalling the past couple hours. Out of everything that could have ever happened, you never thought that the shitty elevators in the convention hotel could actually be the reason for an awesome, new friendship to start.

Male Companions react to realizing they’re not as straight as they thought thanks to Sole - part I

A/N: 1) I REALLY like this ask. So thank you! 2) woah this is a good way for me to find out just how long my hiatus has been lasting, damn. Anyway, better late than never? 3) I get overenthusiastic and write too long texts… I’m working on it. Anyway, it’s the reason why I decided to post this in parts, 2/4 companions a day if I can get that done. - next up deacon and nick-  4) obviously I’m also writing one for the girls 5) when they’re all up I’ll make an overview with links.

Here ya go  VenusLena:

As soon as he realised he was attracted to anyone at all, he figured this came with the body. Nothing to worry about, at all. Except… why did it have to be Sole who suddenly had gone from his master to look after to someone who distracted him from medial tasks? This could hardly be considered a desirable outcome. Was it innapropriate? Surely, it had to be. For a fraction of a second he decided to ignore it but then he got distracted again by Sole’s arms, and that smile, and he decided to strike up a conversation, perhaps gain some information on what to do about this. “Sir, could I… pehaps have a word with you?” “Sure, Codsworth, what’s up?” Codsworth smiled, caught off guard for a moment. He noticed his body temperature seemed to go up, especially in his cheeks. Peculiar.
“ May I bother you with some questions about… some new feelings I am experiencing?” 
Sole raised an eyebrow. “Such as?” 
Codsworth had originally presumed a small system malfunction when it would take him this long to word a sentence coherently as a robot. 
“ Feelings such as eh… distraction and eh… Romantic… feelings?” Sole grinned. “ Look at that, in love, huh?” 
“ What can I… do to resolve such feelings? To stop it?” Sole shrugged. “In my experience you can’t do much about it.  You hope it goes away or you speak to the person you’re interested in. Have you tried that yet?” 
“ Y… yes? Not really but I’m eh…” he scraped his throat. 
“ Any word on who the lucky person is? Is it Curie? I figured perhaps with the background as synths…” Codsworth only just noticed that yes, it was statistically more likely he would be interested in someone who he could procreate with. Did this decrease his chances with Sole?
“ Eh… Curie is a lovely girl but I merely consider her a very good friend, sir. My interests are in someone altogether different. Say, a man.” 
“ Lucky man.” Sole smiled. That’s when Codsworth decided to just go for it. “You are aware I value your opinion highly, Sir, could I ehm hypothetically get your… interest?”
Sole’s eyes widened. “ Codsworth, are you saying that…?” And that was when he chickened out. If human bodies could have such a thing as an alert to retreat, he surely would have it going off this instant. 
“ Oh, no it’s just a nice, intimate chat between friends. I’m glad you got it off your chest Sole.” Sole had a massive grin on his face, looking at Codsworth , rushing away as fast as he could. “TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION, YOU HYPOTHETICALLY COULD!”  


Danse had never really had all that much time for romantic feelings, in a lot of ways joining the Brotherhood meant marrying it. He was dedicated to his goals there, to protecting those under his command.  Falling in love would be an unwelcome and even dangerous distraction from his duties. But his bond with Sole had been growing, and the more time they spent together, the less he could see him as another ‘brother’. He was starting to notice… things. That he sometimes zoned out and thought of him when he wasn’t around, that he caught himself involuntarily looking at Sole’s lips when he was speaking, that he even had some less than platonic dreams. It had happened without him even really being aware of it and now… now he wasn’t sure what to do with it. He couldn’t deny that he had a different kind of feelings for him than just friendship. And that was a first for a man. He had been infatuated with a girl before, but this seemed more serious. Less of a crush, more of… he shook off the thought. This was alltogether new. He had no clue on how to deal with this, no previous experience to speak of. He decided to keep it quiet for the time being; Sole had more important responsibilities. It would be selfish to take him away from those. He bottled it up for a long time, until the point he lost everything he once believed in, and Sole was still there. Still telling him he was worthy of his place in this world, still maintaining an unwavering trust in him. Danse felt like it was too late, that he  no longer had anything to offer him but a shadow of a man. Yet the moment he realised that he couldn’t just ignore his feelings was the moment Sole stood up to Maxson for him. He never saw anyone do such a thing before… show such strength and bravery… let alone do it for him. Every supressed thought came cascading onto him again. Still… he didn’t want to act on it. He didn’t feel like he deserved Sole, considering what he was, how little he had left to offer. Not until Sole managed to get himself literally blown away from the enemy. He rushed to his side relieved to see he was okay. “ If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do.”  “Damn Danse, the way you’re saying that sounds like more than just friendship.”
” I… perhaps we need to talk.” Sole just looked at him, prompting him to carry on. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that if you’re… interested…. so am I.”
“ Are you saying you’re…in love with me? “
Danse sighed. “ I am, I’ve never felt closer to anyone before but I don’t even know what the hell this means. Nor how this… works. I mean I have an idea but.. “ Danse got flustered at the idea. “I’d be honoured to be the man by your side. “


Spoilers!!! If you haven’t finished The Adventure Zone (Balance campaign) I’m sorry. If you have… I’m still sorry.

Anyways, @dadvidismycanonheadcanon , you know how you brought back those two posts and I came upon them as I was scrolling your blog at 4 am, and I started thinking about it as well again, but now with a new point of view since I finished listening to TAZ? So of course, it being more… complicated is a pretty much an understatement?? Uh, so yeah. Have David/Taako angst. Also, yes, Daniel is Sazed. I think I might try experimenting with putting campers into the roles of the THB, since this doesn’t feel like it fits that well anymore, tho I guess it’ll be very hard to fit the roles well enough with these two universes. Eh, I’ll still just have fun with it. Anyways, I’ve rambled enough, sorry for this pure sadness again, and that they’re in the form of very messy night sketches.

cesarean-pizza  asked:

Just read a post of yours discussing Sleep over. For a minute I thought, eh, Jackie's pretty fickle if she suddenly didn't know who she liked. Then I thought for a minute more. No... I'm exactly like that. I'm more likely to be into someone who's into me. Have you ever liked someone more because of how much they liked you?

I’ve never experienced this because no one ever liked meBUT yeah, it’s a pretty common human experience, and there’s nothing bad with it. It’s not like it makes the feelings less genuine, even more in this case, since a handful of scenes showed, or hinted that, Jackie was interested in Marco before Sleepover. It probably wasn’t anything romantic, just “I’d like to befriend this guy who has been my schoolmate for a decade”, but still means that the reciprocared crush didn’t come from nowhere, it just got a big push.


Just a bit of dialogue between CS (does it count as a ficlet if there’s no exposition?). 820 words, or thereabouts.

“The first and last diaper I changed was my brother’s.”

“The time he shat all over you?”


“Well, you’ve changed more of them than I have.”

“No kidding? I thought you might have had more experience than me.”

“I hate to break it to you love, but there’s not much time for the care and keeping of infants aboard pirate ships.”

Keep reading

Their Idol Crush Having Split Personality: BTS


From the moment he found that out he would be the most worried person on earth. He would try and find out how you were doing if he wasn’t able to ask you that for himself.


He would be shocked upon finding out. You looked so normal in his eyes before he knew- he didn’t even dare guess that you had such a horrible thing etched into you. He felt bad for thinking that way, as well. He wondered, just how on earth did you deal with it.


He wouldn’t know how to deal with the new information so instead of giving a proper reaction he would simply blank out, staring at one spot and contemplating his further plan of action, because sure as hell he ain’t backing off from you.

Rap Monster:

He would become your human alarm clock of when you had to take your medicine, since you were an idol and your mind was certainly preoccupied with things different than your own problems.


I think JiMin would have a slight notion as to what could possibly cause a split personality, such as memories that were suppressed by the other personality, hurtful memories at that- in such a form, he would be dead worried about your past a child, or even now if you still experience such things that forced your sub-consciousness to block it.


He would turn into a man when with you- no more childish TaeHyung which his fans knew like the back of their hands, no- TaeHyung would become a gentle and caring man that observed you even more- worried over you and helped you however much eh could.


First of, I don’t think he ever thought of actually meeting a person with such a phenomenon, much less actually having a crush on them and wanting to be with them regardless of anything and everything. Because of that, he would spend his free time trying to find out as many quirks of split personality disorder as was possible.

(masterpost) Male Companions react to realizing they’re not as straight as they thought thanks to Sole

All male companions’ reactions below the Read more! No nsfw, just put it under a read more because these reactions got LONG. So I did it not to clog up people’s dashes, essentially. They can also be found per 2, in a seperate post which you can get to by clicking the name after ‘includes:’.
Includes: Codsworth, Danse, Deacon, Nick, Hancock, MacCready, Maxson, Gage, Preston garvey, Sturges and X6.

Keep reading


the justice league experience event was great, im glad i got to go yesterday. here are some pics of me in the wonder woman room with the tiara on, it was clearly too big for me lmao.

so By The Skin of Your Teeth has finally concluded and holy smokes was that an experience. I posted the first three paragraphs or so of that thinking “eh, no one’s gonna read this” but I WAS SO WRONG. I did not expect it to go on so long or get so, um, large in scale, or for lots of people to read it and tell me they loved it and make my heart go all fluttery. and I would genuinely like to thank each and every person who defied that expectation because seriously you guys have made my day so many times, you don’t even know. 

I don’t have any more fanfic planned right now, but I’m sure some more will come along eventually (I mean there’s tons of opportunities in this AU alone). for the moment, though, I want to focus on some original things, which, if you’ll allow me a moment of shameless self-shilling, are gonna be over here on my writing blog. 

but for now, the Mystery Trio are happy and so let us be happy as well, and I will leave you with the final collected playlist of all the AO3 chapter title songs, just in case anyone wants that:

1. ‘Monster’ by Caravan of Thieves 

2. ‘Fraud’ by Jonathan Coulton

3. ‘Fight From The Inside’ by Queen

4. ‘Shovels and Dirt’ by The Strumbellas 

5. ‘Building Steam’ by Abney Park

6. ‘Saints and Sinners’ by Flogging Molly

7. ‘Bartholomew’ by The Silent Comedy

8. ‘Orphans’ by Jack’s Mannequin

8. ‘Why Not Smile’ by R.E.M.

10. ‘Feel It Turn’ by Great Big Sea 

adorable-minibot  asked:

Le character's ask, you may hate me but imma give ya 3 0w0. Megatron, Rung, and Swerve pretty please Lilly ^^

JEEZ TAILGATE you’re lucky I love ya ;)


Why I Like Him: I mean, he’s okay. I am attracted to bad ass, big, powerful bots so thumbs up there. I like his more intelligent side as well. And in the comics the reason for the war makes a lot of sense to me, even if it all went screwy in the end. But he’s not one of my favorites. 

Why I Don’t: You’d think it would be because of all the horrible stuff he’s done and I mean I definitely don’t like that part of his character. But also just kind of annoyed with all the shit he gets away with in the comics though I guess that’s more on Optimus eh?

Favorite Episode: 

I mean I LOVE seeing the other bots as humans too but DAMN MEGATRON YOU A SILVER FOX~!!!! >;D

Favorite Season/Movie: N/A

Favorite Line: Okay so I can’t for the life of me find a picture and I don’t remember the exact words. But it was that scene where Whirl attacks him and ends up losing his arm because it gets sucked into Megatron’s fucking stomach??? AND MEGATRON IS JUST LIKE YEAH SHOCKWAVE EXPERIMENTED AND NOW IT’S A SWIRLING MASS OF SPACE BITCH! Like if that’s not bad ass what is? 

OTP: Megatron/Rung or Megatron/Ultra Magnus. 

Brotp: Deeeeeeeeeeeep inside of my darkest of hearts, I want Optimus/Megatron or Megatron/Rodimus. Don’t hate *flashes peace sign*

Headcanon: Secretly liked that cane he had originally in his holoform but didn’t want to seem weak. 

Unpopular Opinion: It’s not really unpopular I think a lot of people agree with this, but his ‘punishment’ for all his crimes is fucking bullshit. Also the only version of him I like - TFP is ehhhh okay to me but mostly I find him boring as a villain. This was the first series I thought he had some extra ooomph though he is funny in G1!


An oh-god-please-don’t-ever-happen: ?? Normally I’d say death but eh. Don’t let him go back on his redemption arc maybe?? Don’t let him continue to get away with shit?? Idk. 

5 Words To Describe Him: Scary, intelligent, poetic, bossy, stubborn

My Nickname For Him: Megs, Mr.Glares-A-Lot, Tall Dark & Handsome




Why I Like Him: He’s sweet, he’s into psychology (I wanna be an Art Therapist!), he likes to study people (I do this too), he’s adorable and has glasses! HIS HOLOFORM HAS RED HAIR! He says it like it is without being a straight up jackass. There’s many reasons to like Rung. 

Why I Don’t: That one scene where he basically said Rodimus was throwing a temper tantrum. I mean he WAS but jeez that was rude at the time. Otherwise nothing much about him I dislike??

Favorite Episode: Haven’t gotten there yet but saw this on tumblr and yeah it’s my favorite -

When I first realized he could take off his little glasses and saw his sexy optics, I nearly passed out. *heavy breathing*

Favorite Season/Movie: N/A

Favorite Line: 

I know it’s not a line but look at him go! Punch the moon Rung!!! I’m so proud :’)


Brotp: Everyone? Love Rung? He is good?

Headcanon: He has a not-so-secret addiction to sweets. Pretty much canon though?

Unpopular Opinion: Uhhhhhhhhhh, Hmm. I don’t have one? 

A Wish: I just want him to develop a close friendship with a bot and not be so sad. ALSO STOP FORGETTING HIS NAME!

An oh-god-please-don’t-ever-happen: Death as usual I’m not creative lol. 

5 Words To Describe Him: Thoughtful, observant, caring, sweet, cute

My Nickname For Him: Ring? Rong? Ran? Just kidding! XD I feel like I’d call him dear a lot for some reason. Also Mr. Kinky.



Why I Like Him: I connect with him a lot. That feeling that no one really knows or likes you. Always putting on a smile and making jokes to hide how truly depressed you are. Hating yourself :/ I just see a lot of myself in him. 

Why I Don’t Like Him: He can be a bit of a jerk sometimes especially to Ten. 

Favorite Episode: 

MY POOR BABY! The whole Swearth thing was so fucking sad oh my god but it really warmed my hearts when certain bots went after him. This scene especially is sweet. <3  

Favorite Season/Movie: N/A

Favorite Line: 

Kind of hard to see, so it’s when the Legislators are invading Swerve’s bar and he’s like GET THE FUCK OUT basically!

OTP: Swerve/Skids but I could see him with lots of peeps, including weirdly enough, Swerve/Ten.


Headcanon: He’s a serial cuddler~! :D

Unpopular Opinion: Um. Nothing really? 


An oh-god-please-don’t-ever-happen: (Potential spoilers??) Well Skids already died so I guess Swerve dying too. Or Ten! 

5 Words To Describe Him: Hilarious, talkative, outgoing, lonely,depressed :(

My Nickname For Him: Swervy, The Sexy Bartender, Mr. Earth-Know-It-All lmao


マイク誕生日お祝いマイ相漫画① #1日1マイ相

note: my translations are loose

(please look at the whole thread for all of the parts of the comic!)

an earsermic comic in celebration of mic’s birthday (part 1) #1day1erasermic

(T/N: tanabata is the japanese star festival, celebrated either on july 7th or august 7th)

page 1
[sign says “Tanabata festival”]

Aizawa: Your birthday’s on Tanabata?

Mic: Yeah, Tanabata. Romantic, right?

Aizawa: That’s today, isn’t it?

Mic: Yep, today’s my birthday!

Keep reading

(SPOILERS) I just got back from Rings. It was good...I think.

-You could tell they had paid attention to the movies and even the original Japanese ones.

-The opening scene was terrific.

-I liked the idea that the video itself is now a science experiment for college professors. Ringu 2 had a similar plot. These people are too stupid to even be scared: It’s all intellectual curiosity at this point. Gabriel was crazy.

-You see the twist coming in the first 20 minutes but that seems to make the whole thing a lot more more ominous. 

-The actors were, eh, fine. Not terrible, but, well, sorta there. The lead actress was not Naomi Watts, putting it nicely. 

-Julia liked exposition way too much. Stop talking to yourself, girl!

-”You think you’re the first Good Samaritan to try and help her? No. You’re the twelfth.” The best line of the film because it summed up the whole franchise. Everyone keeps trying to help this girl but, well, they just can’t. Julia ends up with a fate worse than death because she tried to love and understand her. Rachel got it in The Ring Two: She survived and saved her son because she finally understood something about Samara.  

-Those weird two minutes when you found yourself rooting for Samara for standing up to the creepy rapist priest dude.

-More intriguing a film than a scary one, though. Only Julia glimpsing Samara‘s shadow at the door and the cemetery scene creeped me out. 

roseclipping  asked:

jamilton 48 - "think they bought it?"

It was Washington’s fault. They’d been called in last-minute, and they didn’t have the time to get their own kits. Alex looked at the knives on the wall. He needed something effective - sharp but not bulky. 

“Hello!” A cherry voice called out. “Welcome to Sur La Table! Is there anything I can assist you with today?” 

Alex turned to look at the smiling blond lady who was now standing at their side. Jefferson stepped to his side and pressed a kiss to his temple. Alex froze. Jefferson laughed and said, “No, we’re good, but thank you. We’re just looking for a new knife set. Alex here likes to cook, and I thought it was time he got some proper tools.”

“Of course!” The woman’s smile remained. “Let me know if you need anything!”

The smiling saleswoman turned the corner and Alex shoved away from Jefferson. “Jesus christ we’re never doing that again.”

“Are you too good to be playing my doting husband?” Jefferson asked, smirking.

Alex shuttered. “That was one of the most painful experiences of my life.”

“Surely you jest.”

He shook his head. ‘Nope - but, more importantly, do you think they bought it?”

Jefferson shrugged and said, “eh, I think it worked well enough. She’s gone, and that’s what matters.”

“Fine.” Alex turned back to look at the knives. “So, which set?”

The saleswoman neared them with another couple in tow. Jefferson wrapped his arm around Alex’s waist and said, “Well darling’, we have to have a wide selection with how much time you spend in the kitchen.”

Alex picked up a knife, appearing to be examining it’s edge, and leaned up to whisper in Jefferson’s ear. “Call me darling one more time and it won’t be Adams meeting his maker.”

// gossip girl sentence starters // ko-fi