which is not so common

Why Wonder Woman was so Important to Me

I had the opportunity to see Wonder Woman recently, and I was left awestruck.  Wonder Woman is such a timeless character, and I feel this story and the way the film was made really captured the heart of the original character.  With DC’s track record, it had a high chance of being lazy and bad.  But it wasn’t.  It was original. Refreshing. I cried a lot, and here’s why.

1. Women Are Strong 

I’m not one to loudly complain about the misrepresentation of women in media (though we often are).  We’ve had some really awesome and strong female characters over the past couple years.  But somehow, Wonder Woman took this in a completely new direction.  Watching the Amazons fight the invaders on the beach nearly brought me to tears.  It was so special for me to see women take on roles we rarely see them in.  They were the fighters, the protectors, the providers.  There are many women out in the world right now who are fighting their own battles, much like the Amazons.  They’re providing for their families or serving their countries through the military.  It was a pleasant reminder that while men and women have differences, they are equally strong and skilled.

(Also yay for a female director!)

2. Actions Speak Louder

Many times, Wonder Woman is questioned.  She’s scoffed at for being a women (which would have been very common during that time).  She’s underestimated.  But what’s so amazing here is that she never has to prove herself to the men.  It would’ve been so easy for the movie to fall into that common trope.  She never argues with a man and she focuses her attention on others instead of herself.  She wants to kill Ares and stop the war. And in the end, her actions speak louder then her words ever could.  What I took from this is to rise to action.  Stop talking and start doing.  Ignore what others say, because you know what you can do.  Hold your head high and rise above.

3. Mutual Respect Brings the Most Success

As I said before, it would have been easy for the film to fall into certain tropes.  A trope we often see nowadays is a woman proving that she (or all women) are better then men.  That’s never a point of conflict in this film.  Her love interest, Steve, fights as her equal.  He isn’t clumsy or weak to make Wonder Woman look stronger.  He believes in her and helps her to the best of his ability. When they become interested in each other romantically, they both hold their own.  They love each other but are not dependent on one another.  We see the rest of the men in their gang react the same way later on.  They all eventually come to love and respect Diana.  It’s a great reminder that feminism is about collaboration and equality, not one gender being better then the other.  We each have something to bring to the table and our differences are what makes us stronger. 

4. It’s Okay to not be Okay

There’s a really interesting character in Wonder Woman’s gang named Charlie.  He’s supposed to be the world’s top shooter, but time and time again he fails.  He seen some things that have damaged him pretty heavily.  What’s really interesting about this character is that we never see this issue resolved.  He doesn’t have his big “hero moment” where he is suddenly able to shoot and save the day.  This is so much like real life.  We’ve all been hurt, and it’s ok to be damaged.  You have nothing to prove, but your great efforts will help everything to turn out right in the end.  At one point, Charlie even says to Diana “You don’t need me, you’re better of without me.” To this she replies “No, Charlie, if you’re not here, who will sing?” This implies that Charlie is still a valued member of the group, despite his shortcomings.  His friends are able to recognize his other strengths when he cannot.  


5. There is Much Darkness in the World, But Love Will Save the Day

Not much to say here, as Diana said it all in her own monologue:

“I used to want to save the world, to end war and bring peace to mankind. But then I glimpsed the darkness that lives within their light. I learnt that inside every one of them there will always be both. The choice each must make for themselves - something no hero will ever defeat. And now I know… that only love can truly save the world. So now I stay, I fight, and I give - for the world I know can be. This is my mission now, for ever.”

Often times love is portrayed as a great weakness. But it isn’t.  To love is to truly see beauty in the world.  To love is to be brave and strong.  Love is the greatest power of all.  

Additional Notes:

We must learn to forgive.  Diana had the opportunity to kill the chemist responsible for Steve’s death.  And she chose not too, instead focusing on the larger problem at hand and in turn leaving the past in the past.

There were not gratuitous or sexualized shots of the women in the film.  The framing was based around the action.  The women were all beautiful, but the film relied on it’s story and the strength of it’s lead rather then her beauty. 

There will always be hardship. There isn’t always one bad guy to fight.  We all will have to continue to fight our demons and endure through our trials.  But it’s the light and the love, those precious moments, that we fight for.

Thanks Wonder Woman.  You inspired me, and I’m so grateful.  I don’t think I’ve seen a superhero movie with more heart.  There will be many days ahead where I think “What would Wonder Woman do?” 

*I may edit and add on to more of this at a later time, but I wanted to get my initial thoughts out!

10

Farkle Minkus | Riley Matthews parallels  

i cannot wait to rediscover characters i’ve already grown to love by watching them from sana’s point of view this season. because sana sees, truly sees people. she pays so much attention, she is truly so wise, and she notices things which aren’t so obvious to the common eye. she truly sees people’s worth, and their potential, and their essence. and i cannot wait to see her shine this season, and i cannot for everyone else on the show to shine as we see them through her eyes 

10

:: James & Anne similarities ::

I overheard the man
       whisper
          “I am a lover
              not a fighter,”

and to myself
I thought
   
  I,
         am in fact,
 both.
For is it love
   at all
      if it’s not worth
fighting
              for?❞  

elennare  asked:

First, I wanted to say that I love love love your Harry Potter fics and what-ifs! thank you so much for writing them :) And I also wondered if you ever written what if the Dursleys had refused to take Harry in?

When Petunia Dursley refused to take Harry in she forfeited his birthright protection, so Dumbledore took the baby to the safest place he knew: Hogwarts.

The applicable staff (mostly just… not Snape) took Harry in on a rotating schedule as he grew from baby to toddler to child. They traded extra credit for babysitting among the older students, and Harry grew up knowing a few dozen different laps that were safe and warm to nap in.

This was a Harry who grew up among books, among old transient walls and learned professors. They gave Binns night duty sometimes, and let him talk young Harry to sleep. This was a Harry whose world changed, on principle, daily. The stairs moved. The walls became doors. You had to keep your eyes open–you had to pay attention. So he did.

He grew up in a school. Knowledge was power, but knowledge was also joy. This was his sanctuary. There was magic in his world from birth.

“The castle will keep him safe,” said Dumbledore, when McGonagall came into his office to complain for the eighth time about Albus’s rather cavalier take on child-rearing. “That’s what it does.”

Then why do we bother with chaperones ever,” McGonagall said, tempted to shriek it. “Should we let all the children run about willy-nilly at all hours, or just the orphan waifs?!

“He’s not a student. He’s a ward of Hogwarts. It will take care of him, Minerva.”

McGonagall walked off fuming. A cat with spectacle markings followed Harry almost constantly from ages three through four. At some point McGonagall was far enough behind on her paperwork, and had seen enough suits of armor carry the kid back to his room, enough draperies lift off the wall and tug Harry away from edges, and enough stairs creakingly shift their slope for his tiny toddler legs. She gave a grumpy sigh, stole some of Albus’s lemon drops, and resigned herself to a magical world.

The Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower, didn’t really like boys but she liked children. She especially liked patience, and politeness, and Harry had been raised by McGonagall’s stern table manners, by Victorian portraiture and quite a few House Elves. He said please, thank you, and ma'am, and as a child he was very cunning in how he got bedtime stories and bedtime snacks out of most every adult he met.

The Grey Lady told the best stories, you see, the ones with riddles in them. You had to think and ask questions to get all the way through them. So he hunted her down with big patient eyes and plates of very smelly cheese, and she told him stories that made him think.

When Harry was stable enough on his feet to walk, and then to run, Sir Cadogan would race him through the castle, the knight scattering banquet tables and galloping across landscapes, twisting through the abstract gallery up on the seventh and a half floor. Harry stumbled and sprinted up stairways and didn’t notice for years the way Cadogan waited at the end of corridors for him to catch up.

Harry was a chubby-legged toddler, in this world–cute cheeks and stubby limbs. It’s a cute image, yes– but this is important. He was a chubby kid. He ate in a high chair on the teacher’s dais, getting peas and mashed potatoes on the adults beside him– Sprout laughed. Snape didn’t.

But this is important–Harry filled his plate. He wobbled up on little legs and grabbed biscuits from the table, slurped his soup, got marinara sauce on his chin and forehead and somehow behind his ear. When he was hungry, he ate. If he snuck down to the kitchens at night, it was for the adventure of it and nothing else. When he was hungry, he ate.

When he was four, they started letting him go sit down with the students. Bill Weasley, on route to be a prefect next year, took him under his wing and scrubbed his face down after meals. Harry was passed around the Hufflepuff table; theirs was the House Common Room he most liked sneaking into, with its barrels and cozy warmth. Nymphadora Tonks turned her nose a dozen different shapes to make Harry laugh, gurgling, as a toddler (and then a child) (and then for the rest of her life, honestly–it never stopped being funny).

The whole Ravenclaw table got distracted from meals, trying to solve riddles from a book one of their Muggleborns had smuggled in.Harry pushed his fork through his gravy, trying to draw out his thoughts but only making squiggles.

It was years before Harry sat at the Slytherin table for the first time–no one had ever set him down there, like they had with the others. But he liked green–it was the color of Professor Sprout’s greenhouses, where he went and napped sometimes in winter. It was the color of his mother’s eyes, from the little book of moving pictures Hagrid had given him when he was three.

All the Slytherin kids seemed big, but everyone Harry ever met seemed big–except for Flitwick, who was seeming smaller with every growth spurt. He leaned forward, teetering on the bench, and grabbed a chicken drumstick. “Hi,” he said, because he’d had a childhood full of tea parties with high portrait society– the French nobility and the tired housewife from the third floor and an old witch with her sleeve on fire but very particular table manners. “I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

By the end of the meal, they were flicking peas across the table with their spoons, like catapult projectiles. Harry had been unwelcome in so few places in his life, after he’d left 4 Privet Drive, that he simply didn’t expect it. He asked Warrington, a Slytherin with shoulders like a bulldog’s, to help him with the juice, which was too unwieldy for his kid-sized wrists. Harry sat there blinking, smiling, until Warrington took the jug and poured him a brimming glass.

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anonymous asked:

How do you like keeping arboreals as opposed to ground living snakes? Is it a lot harder?

I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily harder; it just has its own set of challenges. Arboreal snakes tend to have different issues come up regarding husbandry and enrichment–for example, when I rescued my Amazon tree boa, the guy who abandoned her said she would never perch and that’s why he didn’t want her (along with the horrible mite infestation she came with).

It turned out she just didn’t like the perches he was providing her and once I gave her something that allowed her more points of contact, she started perching during the day a lot more. Animals seldom do things for no reason and part of being a good keeper is trying to troubleshoot these problems from the animal’s perspective.

Arboreal snakes also tend to behave a little differently in regards to handling. In my experience they tend to be more alert and high strung (this doesn’t necessarily mean aggressive, it might just mean you need to pay more attention to where your fingers are moving around when you handle them to avoid startling them). Treating mites on arboreals can be a bigger ordeal since I’ve found that they’re more susceptible to getting stressed by the bathing process.

I practice what I call “husbandry handling” with my ATB because she’s a slightly nervous animal who prefers not to be handled often–however, I need to be able to do it with as little fuss and stress as possible in case she ever got sick or injured and needed hands-on medical treatment. This basically means I take her out on a regular basis and practice touching gently all over her body in the ways I might need to in order to provide medical assistance, but try to make it as stress-free and short as possible. She prefers to be a hands-off pet, and that’s fine! She’s still pretty chill for an ATB and I’m grateful she’s tolerant of husbandry handling.

Holly, on the other hand, is very laid back and doesn’t mind being handled. I’ve met CBB chondros that were much more nervous and didn’t like handling at all, so this seems to be a matter of individual temperament. She had an infected tooth last year from hitting the tongs and I was able to get in her mouth to treat it with relatively little fuss and stress for her.

This got a lot longer than I meant it to, so I guess the TL;DR version is that keeping arboreals is definitely different, but not necessarily harder if you have the experience and resources to do it properly. I’ve only kept chondros and Amazon tree boas though as far as arboreals go so that’s about all I can speak for.

Writing Series #6: Worldbuilding

When I went to speak with a group of high school writers (the event that prompted this “series”,  almost all of them asked me about “worldbuilding.” Wikipedia defines worldbuilding as “the process of constructing an imaginary world, sometimes associated with a whole fictional universe;” I define it as that thing I always forget to do. 

Worldbuilding is particularly important if you write fantasy because in a completely made up universe, everything is up to you: there are no pre-established rules. You event the landscape, the towns, the people, the hierarchies, the leadership. You are god. 

But for all of the realistic fiction writers out there, world building is a little different. It’s certainly less overwhelming, definitely takes less memorization, but it does have more rules. The question I always find myself asking is: do I base this story in a real town, or do I make it up?

What I’ve found to be the best solution is a mix of both: I choose a town I am familiar with, and I base my “fake town” off of it. This means I can add in a grocery store that doesn’t exist, a local pool that was never built, and, of course, if I want to talk about how terrible a place is, I don’t have to defame a real location. 

The advice “write what you know” is probably the most prominent in settings, which is why it’s so common to find all of an author’s books set in the same location (or coincidentally in all the different locations that author has lived in throughout their life). The way I see it, there are so many other things I need to keep track of (like character arcs, plots, actually writing) that I don’t have the patience to also research and learn new places, but for some writers, this is the best part, the chance to escape the place they know and go anywhere in the world via their writing. 

If you fall into this second category, here are a few rules of thumb:

  • Just because a place is “foreign” to you, does not mean it is to everyone, so please don’t treat your setting (especially if it’s in a different country) as “exotic” (as this can often come across as a fetishization of a race, people, culture, or land). It’s also, frankly, just less realistic. If your character lives in that place you desperately want to live in, they’re not going to see it every day with the wide eyes and fascination that you, the author, have. They’re going to complain that the drug store on the corner isn’t open and bitch about the weather. (This is different, of course, if your character is a newbie in this land and visiting, if they are seeing it for the first time; then the wonder and first impressions are valid to express.)
  • It might help to get a map. Finding a city website will also help (there you’ll find information about parks and rec, town history, libraries, public buildings, etc.). But being able to actually visualize the place will you allow to drop your character into that setting with a better idea of what will really be surrounding them. If you can visit the place even better! But what’s important is to get a street view one way or another, an idea of what it looks like to the left, right, forward, and back of where your character will be standing. Will they see hills on the horizon, just above the buildings’ tops? Is there a skyline? Is the air cool or muggy? What amenities does the town have? What is the wild life like? (Don’t write a squirrel into the scene, for example if there aren’t any in that climate.) 
  • Don’t let the setting hold you back. If there is no city on Earth that has everything in it that you need for your story to take place, it’s okay to make a place up. Just make sure that place has its own set of rules that make sense and add up logically (don’t say it’s a town of 300 people and then give it a strip mall, for example–that sort of thing would never be built for that population).
  • Keep track of your location! Whether your setting is real or made up (in which case you should keep a folder of your notes and maybe a hand drawn map), you should have something (a map, a list of places, a picture, etc.) to refer back to while writing. In order to keep the surroundings consistent, I find myself constantly scrolling up to an earlier moment in the story; I can never remember if I made the local park have a purple slide or blue. It sounds silly, but it’s all in the details, and the more accessible you can make this information, the easier a time you’ll have later (and the less time you’ll spend editing).

To all the writers out there: how do you figure out your setting and what are you tips for keeping things consistent and realistic throughout a larger work?

Feel free to add to this post or submit your own advice to share with your fellow writers at ancwritingresources.tumblr.com

The Right Way

When John opens his eyes, everything is white and silent.

His first feeling is shock.
Shock over this surreal environment. The sand, the heat, the tanks and the death have disappeared. No screams and no helicopter sounds can be heard. Instead, quiet, friendly voices around him. Birds singing somewhere. Well, outside. Outside where the sun shines. Where there is a daily life. Around him is the smell of disinfectants and mild detergent.

John blinks at the bright light in the room. He realizes he’s in a bed. No narrow, hard cot. It is a large, soft bed. A thick pillow under his head. A blanket pulled up to his chin. It’s warm.

He also notes that he can hardly move. It’s like a heavy weight is pushing him down.
John grunts, and wiggles tentatively with his toes under the blanket. This works very well. But as he tries to lift his head, an unpleasant, throbbing pain passes through his shoulder. At the same time, it occurres to him that he has been shot.
Shot. In Afghanistan.

John lets his head sink back into the pillow and breathes in the cool air in the room.
I was shot …
Pictures before his eyes make him swallow.
Running soldiers, screams, shots, an explosion. A hand on his arm, a whisper, a groan as eyes close forever …
And then the sharp pain as the bullet pierces him. Pain, so much pain, he falls into the sand and he can hear his name. Someones shouting his name …
A moment later it’s all gone.

John knows he’s been taken to a hospital. For the initial treatment. And then. Home.

Home, meaning this hospital.

He sighs, and licks his dry lips. Thirst.
His gaze falls to the side of the wall, where a call button is.
He presses it.
A few minutes later, a young nurse comes into the room. She smiles the certain standard smile, which is so common in a hospital.
“Ah, Dr. Watson, you are awake. Very good. The doctor will want to see your wound soon. Do you need something?”
“Water,” John can only croak with difficulty. And he points his finger vaguely at the bed. “Could you … raise it please?”
“Yes, of course.” The nurse pushes a button on the bed and it slowly lifts. “I’ll bring you water.”
Then she is gone again.

John can see the room better now. And when he looks aside, he sees that he is not alone.
Next to him is another bed. And there is a man in it.
The face half hidden by an oxygen mask.
John can see thick, dark locks. And pale, almost white skin. He judges the man to be in his mid-thirties. He stares at the completely motionless body and swallows. Something is drawing him to this unknown man … something he can not explain. John notes that he is fascinated. Fascinated without really having a reason for it. He shakes his head slightly.

The nurse comes back with a mug and a water bottle.
She pours him water into the mug and John takes it with a still unsteady hand. He drinks, relieved.
Then he says softly, “Who is that?”
The nurse follows his gaze and says with a sad undertone, “Oh, this is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. He’s been here for a long time. Almost half a year. He’s in a coma.”
“Ah,” John says, swallowing. Half a year. That’s a long time. “How …?”
“How it happened? He overdosed on cocain. We … well, we can’t ask him, but we think it was a suicide attempt.” She gently shakes her head and takes the empty mug from John. “It’s really a shame. He never gets any visitors. Never. The thought that no one in the world is there for him … Who knows if he will ever wake up again. Perhaps there is simply nothing worth it for … Oye, I talk too much.” She seems a little embarrassed and clears her throat. “If you need anything, just call, ok? The doctor should be here any minute.”
“Thank you. Yes.”
The nurse leaves. John does not look away from the sleeping man in the other bed.

Half a year. No visit.
Jesus.

*
The days pass at a quiet, slow pace, which both soothes and disturbs John.
He is not used to it.
He almost expects to be suddenly torn from the calm routine by a shrill siren. Or suddenly lie back in the hot, bloody sand of the desert.
But of course it doesn’t happen.
Instead, he wakes up around 9 in the morning, receives his breakfast and is examined. The doctor is friendly and passive. Nodding pleased at the sight of John’s wound, while John himself stares at the hole in his shoulder with a growing nausea.
After that, he can only watch TV, or watch Sherlock being fed.
It’s hard to watch.
No reaction comes from the comatose man, when the nurses lift his limbs off the bed to wash him. Turn him to his side. Dress him again.
The motionless body doesn’t resist. It reminds John of a doll. He does not like this thought.
At noon, they bring John food again.
For Sherlock, of course, nothing comes. He is fed artificially.
In the evening, more food. And more TV.
A lot of rest. A little too much, John thinks once, and feels strangely guilty at the thought.
On the third day of this routine, he talks to Sherlock for the first time.
It’s because a James Bond movie is on.
John always liked James Bond.
And that’s what he says.
“This is a good movie. A really good movie. Lots of action. And the women are pretty, the men too,” he says aloud in the room. And laughs. There’s no answer. And he feels a little stupid.

*

After a while, John realizes that he will not get any visitors either.
It’s not really that surprising.
Harry is … well, he doesn’t even know where his sister lives. His mother is dead. And he does not want to see his father. Not that he thinks, his father would want to see him …
Once, he receives a call from the leader of his unit. From Afghanistan. He says something like, “it’s a shame” and “get back on your feet soon”. John doesn’t say much. He only murmurs “Yes, sir” now and then.
His hand is trembling as he holds the phone. A tremor. It hasn’t stopped since he woke up.
He doesn’t get any visitors. Just like Sherlock.
Only the nurses and the doctor enter the room.
“Here we are, huh?” John says to Sherlock while eating his bland soup. “We’re alone together here.”

And then the nightmares start. About the war. About death and pain. About men he could not save. Distorted faces in the dark. Eyes full of despair.
He wakes up in the middle of the night. Heavily breathing. Bathed in sweat.
He moans and sits up with difficulty. Runs a hand over his face.
He looks at Sherlock. Sherlock, who is, as always, motionless in bed. A part of his face lit from the machine that measures his heartbeat.
John swallows. He must … He feels the overwhelming desire to talk to someone. It needs to stop. He can not … Oh, hell, he has no one and it’s not like Sherlock would complain, right?
He clears his throat and begins.

“Well, uh, Sherlock. How do you feel? Um, I hope I didn’t wake you. Sorry, haha, bad joke … I had a nightmare, which is quite obviously, right? Well, uhm, I hope it doesn’t bother you if I just talk a little. Yes. I’ll talk. So make yourself comfortable. Haha.
Sometimes I think I’ve gone the wrong way. I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. And the army … Well, it was just a whim. An idea that me and my friends had. One of them is dead, by the way. Mmh. I … it was not always bad. The training was exhausting though. Sometimes I thought I could not make it. My family was not much help either. My father is an asshole. There is no other word. My sister was thrown out. My mother died. It was all … a mess, you know? Anyway, I’ve been struggling. I wanted to do it. This one thing. And I did it. I’ve become a doctor. I went to Afghanistan and treated soldiers. I’ve seen things that would turn your stomach. Wounds that seemed like death sentences. I’ve looked into hopeless, desperate eyes. Sometimes I saved them. Sometimes I couldn’t.
And the faces of those I could not save, they haunt me now, you know? In my dreams. God. I’m so sorry. I really am … Do you see that? I’m crying. That hasn’t happened for a long time. It seems to make you sentimental when you get a bullet in your shoulder … " 

*

"Thank you for listening to me all the time, Sherlock. All this blabbering must be terrible. I thought about James today. Who that is? Well, good question. We were more than friends. But never more than … no idea. I kissed him. Well. In the desert, watching the sunset. Once. Just once. Do you think that is romantic? Shit, yes. Mabye it is. ”

*
“My middle name is Hamish. I hate it. I mean, who calls their child John Hamish? My father chose my name. There we have it again. This bastard. Hamish. I always avoid telling people that name. So, I guess that makes us mates? Hey, buddy, haha. No. That just sounds wrong. Sorry.”
*
"I can get up today. Great, huh? I feel like an old man. My damn shoulder, my trembling hand … a pretty sad picture I make, huh? ”

“It was not so bad. I mean, I for some reason I’m limping, quite badly, but the fresh air was great. I was down in the park. And imagine, a woman spoke to me. She’s called Mary. She said she’s working here. She is nice. And you know what, I asked her if we could go for a coffee. She said yes. Can I get a ‘well done’? No? All right. ”
*
“Do you know, that you’re pretty? Really, you are. I maybe would have asked you out, if I met you somewhere else before. Oh God, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I … Maybe I’m just afraid. Because … well. I’ll have to leave here soon, I guess. And I don’t know what to do then …”
*
“Well, that’s it. I … tomorrow I can go. I don’t know exactly where, but I can go. Mmh. I think I’m really scared. Mary said I should do therapy. No idea if that would help. I guess, I can try it. Maybe. Well, I’ll pack my things. You know … you really could wake up to say good-bye to me. It would be nice …”
*
“Surprise! Yes, here I am again. I … I missed you, Sherlock. You’re a good listener, you know? Better than my therapist … So, what happened since I left, tell me, haha.”
*
“I will marry Mary. That’s … yes, that’s good, right? She is … she gives me a certain hold in life. I would not know where else to go. What else could I do? So. We are getting married.”
*
“Oh God. Fuck Hey, Sherlock. I … She’s pregnant. She … she’s really pregnant. Did you hear that? I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a father. I. Can you belive that? No, me neither. I … Oh my God, what am I doing?”
*
“This is not what I wanted, do you hear me Sherlock? That … my God, I can not do that. That’s … That’s not me. Fuck. ”
*
“I love her … Really, I do. I mean, I married her. But … I just do not know what I’m doing. I’m … This is not me. I don’t want a quiet family life in a terraced area. I want … I don’t even really know what I want … But, I hate all of this. I … I thought I was going the right way this time, but that … that’s not what I want. I’m not a family man, Sherlock. ”
*
“You know, Sherlock, you can just wake up once. So … so we could really talk. Because, well … You listen to me here as I talk every day. Aren’t you bored. Jesus. I know it would be a miracle if you woke up. I have … I’ve heard the nurses talking. They’ve given up on you. It would be a miracle. But … I don’t know, maybe you can just make the miracle happen for me? Simply … Oh God, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Good bye, Sherlock. Until tomorrow.”
*
6 weeks later.

“Hello, Dr. Watson. I’m sorry to call you so late, but he … he’s asking for you.”

“Who? Who is asking for me?”

“Sherlock Holmes. The coma patient you have been visiting. He woke up and now he’s asking for you. Very urgently.”

John hurried to the hospital. He doesn’t even notice that he left his cane at home. Until Sherlock points it out. Sherlock, sitting upright in bed, an exhausted, oblique smile on his face.
Sherlock, who says quietly, “Hello, John.”
Sherlock, who steals John’s heart within a second and opens the door to a whole new, completely different story. Who shows John a new way. Which is finally

           the right one. 



This was inspired by this beautiful post of @johnnlocked: AU in which Sherlock is in a coma and John is in the same room.

Corrected by my wonderful beta @bakerstreet-irregular <3

Tags are under the cut. As always, if I forgot you or you want to be tagged in future works, tell me :)

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i go off about arya’s connection to water all the time but theres a lot of importance placed on food too. which is associated with life as well plus family. one of the first things we learn about her is how much she values sitting at her fathers table, the most communal setting, where she has not only food but the company of those she cares about. but through a lot of her story arya is in situations where food is as scarce as her pack which makes it all the more significant. despite this arya still shares and provides food for others. the rabbit leg with gendry and worms with weasel and the boys. arya acts as a cupbearer in harrenhal and the house of black and white where she serves food and wine. she spends a lot of time in the kitchens of both helping prepare meals, an act of giving sustenance. arya is very comfortable in kitchens. they’re warm safe and represent security in a lot of ways. esp for a character who’s been cold and hungry. she also works selling seafood as cat of the canals and offers sam some for free after protecting him from bullies. arya has a very generous nature that revolves around family life. 

aquarians are full of ideas, they are a breath of fresh air, they blow bubbles of sky clouds. saturn rules aquarius and represents institution, and uranus co-rules aquarius which activates collective humanity, so its common for aquarians to be involved in politics or social causes. they are most often on the side of people who have nothing. aquarians are influential and inspired by a better world. the aquarius labor is love 

daughterofthemyscira  asked:

do u have an autistic rachel headcanons? bc i have Lots™ but i love ur autistic hcs & would love to hear any u have for rachel

yeah rach is definitely on the spectrum this is less headcanon-y and more meta-y.

she fits quite a bit of criteria spot on, particularly the ones that are less talked about (or that the medical community ignores…yadayadayada we could talk about that for ages)

  • she has a very keen sense of justice and a very high interest in social change
  • she tends to fixate on highly specific issues, like saving the endangered yellow bellied sapsucker.
  • she appears quite overzealous and intense when she’s talking, percy once says it feels like she’s punching him with her words.
  • she can be…more than a bit heedless of social context, probably on purpose because she literally doesn’t care (“these two aren’t human! they’re actually half greek god!”)
  • she is quite rigorous about making sure her specific goals get accomplished ( “i’m writing my number on your hand and you’re gonna fucking call me and explain i don’t care if the school is on fire that’s besides the point you are going to fucking call me got it”)
  • she definitely strikes me as a brutally honest type. she also doesn’t seem to have much of a filter, and maybe has a tendency to blurt things out.
  • she feels very passionately for the environment, there’s definitely a case to be made that she’s hyperempathetic towards plants and animals. she’s an activist, and there’s also a brief mention that she needed a therapist to get over the death of her hamster when she was 6.
  • she can see through the mist and notices things that others don’t, and has very complex and vivid visions/dreams/nightmares and is obviously a very intuitive person (bet u never knew that was an autistic trait, but it is!). she literally has a different way of observing the world; i think this is a super super cool trait for an autistic character to have in a fantasy series. lots of autistic people feel like we pick up on things that others don’t because we use our senses in different ways, or we’re more sensitive to certain things. it’s sort of fantastic to think about an autistic person in a supernatural world developing supernatural powers because they’re used to looking at things in a different way than most people.
  • her visions of delphi cause her to have “migraines”, which is also a really cool way for autistic characters in a fantasy setting to interact with their symptoms. she’s been struggling to cope in the beginning of tlo because her brain is on constant sensory overload, leaving her perpetually drained and exhausted. i’m fairly certain there’s mention to her squinting and being sensitive to light at some point.
  • she’s definitely known for being quirky, having eccentric tastes and interests, and occasionally being a bit whimsical ( “i can see hope inside…so fragile”).
  • she doodles all over her clothes and seems to dress quite eccentrically, possibly for sensory comfort (she’s first seen in a worn harvard sweatshirt, which suggests she wears it quite a bit, and with jeans that have holes in them “like she’d been poking them with a fork”..which, she probably was, quite honestly)
  • percy goes out of his way to comment that her music taste is strange and no two songs can sound the same
  • she’s an artist (honestly enough said)
  • she’s quite trusting of people, and accepts when they offer help, even when you think she’d be quite wary of them (percy is the most obvious example of this, but there’s also chiron and hestia and apollo. but literally agreeing to help percy and annabeth on a death quest just because they said they’d need her and would protect her..is pretty huge)
  • she doesn’t quip back at annabeth when she’s being a brat to her, and sometimes just answers her sarcastic question literally (she does realize that annabeth is being a brat to her, though, so i think it’s less of her being naive and more of her just being unsure how to handle being the target of such negative attention)
  • she definitely strikes me as the sort of autistic who doesn’t particularly have a gender or have a connection to their gender because they see themselves as their brain, which is inherently genderless (this is remarkably common actually like so common that even the medical community talks about it lmao)
What’s Bred in the Bone: Part II

Mass Effect: Andromeda

Jaal x Sara Ryder

A 600 year nap and a 2.5 million light-year journey to find out the answer: are humans and angara genetically compatible?

Rated M for strong language, some sexuality and violence. Alien-human pregnancy fic.

Spoilers for Jaal’s romance and loyalty mission, and end of game.

Part II of ??? Part I - Part III - Part IV

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acelaevateins  asked:

Sorry if this was already answered; I didn't see it on the blog so I figured I'd ask. I can make fully-fledged characters almost on the fly. Sometimes it's helpful but most of the time, I wind up with more characters than I can handle and eventually give up on the story they're in. How can I maintain a small main cast?

My first recommendation is that age-old hated writing advice: Kill Your Darlings. You just came up with a beautiful new character! She has 6 toes! She likes salsa (the sauce), salsa (the dance), Circe (the mythical Greek figure), and Cersei (the Game of Thrones character)! She wrinkles her nose when she’s embarrassed and has a penchant for thinking she’s right about everything! Great! I want to pinch her cheeks and make her nachos. The problem is, she’s the 8th in a cast that’s already falling apart.

Kill her. (Probably.)

I don’t mean narratively. I mean straight-up set her aside and tell her “sorry, this table’s full”. She’s great, and you love her, but it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t serve the story. Every single character you create MUST have a place in the story. They must serve the narrative. No matter how beautiful, funny, or cool they are, if they are making your story fall apart, they don’t deserve a place in it.

Now, a caveat. You’ve created Jane Darling who loves salsa and Circe, and you realize she TOTALLY has a place in this plot – in fact, she’s the answer to the problem in your current story that you’ve been worrying about all this time! In that case, obviously, keep her. Just make sure she actually is doing the work for you – and that all of your current characters are, too. If you read Tolkien’s drafts for Lord of the Rings, you’ll find he’s replacing or significantly changing characters left and right. Even an author with as huge a cast as Tolkien’s has to cut or switch out characters sometimes in order to keep the story tight enough to track (and there are lots of readers who will tell you he didn’t do it enough).

All that said, you’re the only one who can really decide which characters need to stay and which should go. If you get a good reader (and I recommend you do at some point in your journey – though many writers prefer not to utilize a reader until a first draft is done), they may be able to point you in the right direction. But it sounds to me like you are suffering from another, very common problem, which is novel fatigue. It’s so easy to drop a novel. There are too many new ideas waiting. You don’t know for sure where it’s going. Things feel out of control. You don’t have enough time. And on. And on.

If you are serious about finishing a story, you’ll have to take another piece of hated age-old advice, which is: just do it. Just sit, every day, until you’ve written SOMETHING, even if you know you’re going to end up deleting what you came up with. Or just sit, every day, and think about your story for one full hour, whether anything gets written or not. There are lots of strategies, but the bottom line is that you have to interact with your story daily until it is done, however long that takes. You have to set aside newer ideas who’s newness is appealing (because you’ve thought about the old ideas for a YEAR and there’s no way they are going to sound exciting and new to you even if they sound awesome to every potential reader). You have to say no to friends and activities. You have to actively say, “I want to and am going to finish this.” Over time, sometimes a long long time, the other problems, like cast size, will become smaller, until they are relatively insignificant.

Some practical helps along the way, however: 

Consider a novel-writing software, like Scrivener. These are created to help you keep track of characters and plot points.

A wall covered in sticky notes goes a long way.

A folder for new ideas (in your case new characters) that aren’t presently useful goes a long way, too. Kill Your Darlings, but give them a chance to rise from the dead some other day.

I hope this helps. I know novel writing can easily become unwieldy and overwhelming, but I believe in you!

Top 10 Facts Of The Day (March 29, 2017)

10. Radithor, a health drink in the 1920s that contained radium and slowly killed its customers. But it didn’t cause a public health crisis because it could only be afforded by rich people (unlike cheaper, safer knockoffs).

9. Vasili Arkhipov, a senior officer on a Soviet submarine, refused his captain’s orders to launch a nuclear torpedo at US war ships in October 1962, perhaps preventing WWIII.

8. Because of the amount of granite in its construction, Grand Central Station produces more radiation than is allowable at a nuclear power plant.

7. Actor Kevin Spacey has kept his private life as secret as possible and says “The less you know about me, the easier it is to convince you that I am that character on screen.”

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my favorite bits from grimmy’s interview with niall (sorry it got so long rip): 

  • goSH the first bit that really jumps out me is when grimmy’s asking him about does he feel like he’s more likely to be bit by a shark since he’s been so successful, and niall goes [laughing], ‘i’ve been fairly lucky in me time’
  • niall talking about ‘slow hands’ being very different from ‘this town’ is just so interesting to me in terms of what must make them seem so different, you know? is it the lyrical content or the musical arrangement or ?? because he’s obviously the thing in common now, which is so interesting
  • grimmy going, ‘how does it feel like knowing niall that that is out there and that the world - and quite literally the WORLD will care about this and the WORLD will want to hear it, does it feel scary or exciting knowing millions and millions of people will have heard this and have opinions on it?’ and niall going, ‘well, i’ve pleased you, i’ve pleased me mum…i think that’s it!’ i feel like that encompasses niall’s approach to this business so neatly. it’s not, does EVERYBODY like it, the question is, do you like it? 
  • ‘not really competitive with the charts and that, more competitive with myself’ FASCINATING
  • ‘at that time, i was - i didn’t want to do it myself, that was like the second time i’d performed it…and i was literally standing on the [r1 teen awards] stage kind of waiting for the lads to appear. louis will just come out of the toilet anytime soon’ is just?? my heart?? like this is NIALL who loves this and had to know he’d love it again if only he could push past the nerves. not to get emo but that’s inspiring man 
  • you know what i was thinking about while grimmy was asking after the songs the boys wrote during 1d? were all those songs they wrote registered, or is there like a vault of unreleased 1d stuff that never made it onto an album, or what’s up with that? just listening to niall talk about writing while the band was together, and how many writing credits are on each of those tracks, i’m just wondering how they actually put those songs together. like, how much experience writing had each of them had before they set out to make their own solo albums??
  • ‘i’ve actually put it (liam’s ‘big daddy chain’) around my neck and it is heavy’ - I JUST WANT THOSE PICS MAN I MISS NIAM 
  • the first time niall heard sott was on the radio because ‘harry’s weird like that, isn’t he?’ i MISS NARRY TOO MAN
  • NIALL’S AWARENESS OF PPL PLAYING UP THE COMPETITION BETWEEN HIM AND HARRY A;SDKLFJSAL;KDJF he just could not be less impressed
  • he would look cool in silk dragon pants though 
  • ‘HE USED TO HUG ME LIKE THAT…I’M GONNA GET MESELF A SIDEKICK, LIKE PINKY AND THE BRAIN’ i’m just saying louis has DEFINITELY made that reference before and it KILLS ME 
  • ‘your sitting room looks like a dressing room’ you’re not wrong niall what is up with ur decor dude get a throw blanket or something
  • niall as the david beckham of golf i love the way nick’s brain works and i would lOVE for his offer of a golf course interview to be legit
  • niall ‘i am more irish’ defending his stake on the irish folk music
  • ‘you’ve always been a fan of niall, haven’t ya?’ ‘i’ve always been a fan of niall!’ SAME GRIM
  • u know how niall serially minimalizes his pain or discomfort when he talks about stuff that he didn’t enjoy? him talking about being stuck in a hotel for the day and being ‘angry’ about not being able to leave, i wonder how rotten that REALLY must’ve been for the poor guy. probably like 10x worse
  • NIALL GOT WAY ONBOARD WITH PRANK CALLING THE NIALL IMPERSONATOR SO FAST HE’S LIKE JUST GIVE ME A NAME I GOT THE REST A;LDKJFSLA;KDJF 
  • are we far enough down this list i can admit his capability with the accents is s*xy [eyeball]
  • as always i’m just struck with how warm and friendly grimmy is and how charming niall is i can’t wait for him to come back when the whole album’s out 

anonymous asked:

Hello! I was curious weather or not you've posted about Yorkies? I've considered getting one, but would rather know a bit more about the health concerns and such. (Also, I love this blog and am learning loads. Thank you so much!)

I have not yet posted about Yorkies. Let’s change that, but be prepared for a long post. I might just have to limit this to the most severe or most common concerns.

Please note the disclaimer that these posts are about the breed from a veterinary viewpoint as seen in clinical practice, i.e. the problems we are faced with. It’s not the be-all and end-all of the breed and is not to make a judgement about whether the breed is right for you. If you are asking for an opinion about these animals in a veterinary setting, that is what you will get. It’s not going to be all sunshine and cupcakes, and is not intended as a personal insult against your favorite breed. This is general advice for what is common, often with a scientific consensus but sometimes based on personal experiences, and is not a guarantee of what an individual animal is going to encounter in their life.

Originally posted by entirelypets

These little dogs have a number of difficulties in their treatment. These concerns apply to standard dogs of this breed, but are extra common in so-called ‘teacup’ dogs, which are not ethical to breed and I do not support.

Collapsing trachea is a major respiratory concern for these dogs, with risk increasing as the dog’s are structurally smaller or are overweight. The cartilage rings that hold open their windpipe when pressure if applied to their neck (eg a collar) or when they breathe faster and deeper (like when they’re excited). These dogs typically have a harsh, honking cough and may be prone to fainting.

Medial Luxating Patellas are very common in these little dogs. In most cases their tibial crest is positioned abnormally ans these dogs will need surgery to have a normal knee joint.

Portosystemic Shunts are abnormal blood vessels that allow blood from the intestines, full of interesting molecules from food, to bypass the liver where they normally would be detoxified. Dogs with this condition are often stunted or runts, and can have really bizarre symptoms including seizures or temporary blindness after eating. Some of these dogs will benefit from surgery, others are no so lucky.

Another anomalous blood vessel this breed is prone to is patent ductus arteriosis. This occurs when a perfectly normal blood vessel in the fetus, which allows blood to bypass the lungs, fails to close at birth. This heart defect (really a vessel defect) is severe, and dogs require surgery or an implant to live a normal life.

Particularly with the smaller individuals, this breed is prone to developing hydrocephalus (fluid on the brain causing a deformed skull) or seizures. This is especially frustrating because the dosages needed to treat these dogs can be minuscule.

On the topic of finding small enough doses for medication, Cushing’s Syndrome is relatively common in these dogs once they achieve old age. This overproduction of cortisone causes dogs  to typically loose fur on their bodies, develop a pot belly, drink lots, eat lots and develop secondary liver issues. It’s not immediately lethal but does impact their quality of life.

For some reason these dogs also seem to get aseptic necrosis of the femoral head which causes a subtle lameness due to changes in the hip, and once again we would be talking about surgery.

To add to the list of weird things this breed likes to throw, Bladder stones are extra frustrating. Some of these dogs are small enough that if they develop small bladder stones, they can develop life threatening urethral blockages like male cats do.

And finally, Awful Dental Health plagues these dogs. It’s so common to see them with an absolute sewer mouth, I’m surprised owners don’t notice the smell when they lick them. More concerning is that their jaws are so little I’m terrified of fracturing something when I extract the rotten teeth. It’s common for them to also have retained deciduous teeth (baby teeth) which need removal.

Especially in regards to so-called teacup dogs, the smaller the individual the more fragile they are, and these dogs can have assorted misadventures up to and including fracturing a leg by jumping off the couch. Seriously, some dogs are just too small to ethically bred.

In addition, unusually small dogs have an extra expense in getting their required medication compounded, which means specially made into a appropriate size. This can also delay treatment while you wait for those medications to be made and shipped.