superwholockpottertribute

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writing-prompt-s:

Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise!

Oh my god, this is beautiful.

A small child enters Valhalla. The battle they lost was “hiding from an alcoholic father.” Odin sees the flinch when he slams the cup and refrains from doing it again. He hears the child’s pain; no glorious battle this, but one of fear and wretched survival.

He invites the child to sit with him, offers the choicest mead and instructs his men to bring a sword and shield, a bow and arrow, of the very best materials and appropriate size. “Here,” he says, “you will find no man who dares to harm you. But so you will know your own strength, and be happy all your days in Valhalla, I will teach you to use these weapons.”

The sad day comes when another child enters the hall. Odin does not slam his cup; he simply beams with pride as the first child approaches the newcomer, and holds out her bow and quiver, and says “nobody here will hurt you. Everyone will be so proud you did your best, and I’ll teach you to use these, so you always know how strong you are.”

————

A young man enters the hall. He hesitates when Odin asks his story, but at long last, it ekes out: skinheads after the Pride parade. His partner got into a building and called for help. The police took a little longer than perhaps they really needed to, and two of those selfsame skinheads are in the hospital now with broken bones that need setting, but six against one is no fair match. The fear in his face is obvious: here, among men large enough to break him in two, will he face an eternity of torment for the man he left behind?

Odin rumbles with anger. Curses the low worms who brought this man to his table, and regales him with tales of Loki so to show him his own welcome. “A day will come, my friend, when you seek to be reunited, and so you shall,” Odin tells him. “To request the aid of your comrades in battle is no shameful thing.”

———-

A woman in pink sits near the head of the table. She’s very nearly skin and bones, and has no hair. This will not last; health returns in Valhalla, and joy, and light, and merrymaking. But now her soul remembers the battle of her life, and it must heal.

Odin asks.

And asks again.

And the words pour out like poisoned water, things she couldn’t tell her husband or children. The pain of chemotherapy. The agony of a mastectomy, the pain still deeper of “we found a tumor in your lymph nodes. I’m so sorry.” And at last, the tortured question: what is left of her?

Odin raises his flagon high. “What is left of you, fair warrior queen, is a spirit bright as fire; a will as strong as any forged iron; a life as great as any sea. Your battle was hard-fought, and lost in the glory only such furor can bring, and now the pain and fight are behind you.“

In the months to come, she becomes a scop of the hall–no demotion, but simple choice. She tells the stories of the great healers, Agnes and Tanya, who fought alongside her and thousands of others, who turn from no battle in the belief that one day, one day, the war may be won; the warriors Jessie and Mabel and Jeri and Monique, still battling on; the queens and soldiers and great women of yore.

The day comes when she calls a familiar name, and another small, scarred woman, eyes sunken and dark, limbs frail, curly black hair shaved close to her head, looks up and sees her across the hall. Odin descends from his throne, a tall and foaming goblet in his hands, and stuns the hall entire into silence as he kneels before the newcomer and holds up the goblet between her small dark hands and bids her to drink.

“All-Father!” the feasting multitudes cry. “What brings great Odin, Spear-Shaker, Ancient One, Wand-Bearer, Teacher of Gods, to his knees for this lone waif?”

He waves them off with a hand.

“This woman, LaTeesha, Destroyer of Cancer, from whom the great tumors fly in fear, has fought that greatest battle,” he says, his voice rolling across the hall. “She has fought not another body, but her own; traded blows not with other limbs but with her own flesh; has allowed herself to be pierced with needles and scored with knives, taken poison into her very veins to defeat this enemy, and at long last it is time for her to put her weapons down. Do you think for a moment this fight is less glorious for being in silence, her deeds the less for having been aided by others who provided her weapons? She has a place in this great hall; indeed, the highest place.”

And the children perform feats of archery for the entertainment of all, and the women sing as the young man who still awaits his beloved plays a lute–which, after all, is not so different from the guitar he once used to break a man’s face in that great final fight.

Valhalla is a place of joy, of glory, of great feasting and merrymaking.

And it is a place for the soul and mind to heal.

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But I want people to imagine James in wizard heaven commenting on things going on in Harry's life.

Year 1:

McGonagall: Wood, I’ve found you a Seeker.

James: LOOK AT THAT - THAT’S MY SON. YOUNGEST! HOLY - YOUNGEST SEEKER IN A CENTURY!

Lily: Merlin James, let go of Fabian! You’re choking him!

James: THAT’S MY BABY!!

Year 2:

*Harry and Ron fly Mr. Weasley’s car to Hogwarts*

Lily: James, are you biting your nails? James - you’re shaking!

James: My boy hijacked a car at twelve.

Lily: And he is fine. Besides I thought you’d be proud.

James: PROUD?! PROUD! MY SON IS ON A DEATH WISH!

Year 3:

Sirius: I WANT TO COMMIT THE MURDER I WAS IMPRISONED FOR!

James: Merlin Sirius! THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE A DRAMA QUEEN! JUST TELL HIM THE TRUTH.

Lily: I miss him. I just, I want him to be happy again.

James: I do too. WHICH IS WHY HE NEEDS STOP WITH THE DRAMATICS. I ALWAYS KNEW THEY WERE GOING TO END UP KILLING HIM!! Oh okay, Remus is telling him now.

Year 4:

*Harry’s and Voldemort’s wand connect through Priori Incatatem*

James: Lily, it’s time. I will be right behind you.

Year 5:

Harry: She hated him!

Sirius: Nah! She didn’t.

James: Oh shush Harry! I can give you details that will make your ears bleed.

Lily: You want to add to those details?

Year 6:

Harry: There is no need to call me “sir” professor

James: HARRY YOU MAKE ME SO PROUD! THAT’S MY SON!

Lily: Merlin James! Let go of Sirius! You’re choking him too!

Sirius: That’s alright - *heaves* - just look at our boy!

Year 7:

Snape: Always.

James: Snape, that’s noble and all but for the love of Merlin! Get a girlfriend!

Bonus:

Harry: You’ll stay with me?

James: Until the very end.

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I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.

They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.

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Came up with these bookish stickers for National Bookstore.

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Never be afraid to ask for help

Seriously, as someone with Severe Suicidal tendencies, I know what it’s like to fight to survive every day. I’ve been there, I AM there and I’ve seen what it can do. But I have spent almost half my life at this point fighting those same feelings using my stubborn will and absolute determination not to fail and to keep moving forward with my life. I know how hard it is, I fight every day just to get out of bed, but I will never, NEVER turn away someone who asks for help. If you feel like you can’t hold yourself up anymore, talk to someone, be it a friend, family member, or an internet stranger, ASK FOR HELP! You are important and have every right to a full life as everyone else. Don’t let mental illness or issues of any kind take away your willingness to survive and live a happy life. Because if you’re at your lowest and feel like death is your only option, then you’ve reached the point where you can only go up from there. Just remind yourself to hold on for one more day, and at the end of that day do it all over again, at some point things will get better. I know as someone who’s been there that hearing things like that sometimes are more frustrating than helpful, but there is no other way of saying it. Keep fighting. Ask for help. And NEVER EVER let that voice convince you that you are not worthy of life, because everyone is, including you. Be You, creative, logical, intelligent, crazy, stubborn, happy, sad, be what you are and never apologize for it. Be aware that you are the best you can be and you don’t have to be any more for anyone else. And know you will always have support, you only need to ask.

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Just skip it, not worth the insanity.

Posted mostly because I don’t feel like ranting and I can’t really post it anywhere else without never hearing the end of it. 

For anyone interested in a long-term, preferably (hopefully) forever relationship with an above average to heavy-ish, almost 28 year old woman with some naivety and some metal disorders that make for awkwardness but supremely nice, kind, caring, overly empathetic and sensitive, super good with kids, and slightly lazy due to lack of motivation caused by no medication for mentioned mental disorders, type of person let me know. Be aware I have an overly traditional obnoxiously racist father who would probably scare away anyone he didn’t like as well as very old style baptist grandmother who is sweet and amazing but also very silently judge-y and I live with her, and of course there is my overly protective sister and friends who will watch like a hawk. But I am super easy to get along with, I love kids, painting, reading, writing, video games, computer design, and anything to let my creativity shine and while intelligent, not everything I read is for study, and I do love to experiment, though know in advance I better have either serious commitment or a ring by the time experimenting even becomes a factor.

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I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.

They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.

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Au where Draco speaks broken English because his first language is French. And when he’s trying to intimidate Harry or he’s angry or frustrated he’ll go into French and Harry most certainly does not find it hot ok Ron shut up-

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Nerdy Fact #1765: To promote the release of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Google Maps added various hidden locations from the film for users to explore, including the MACUSA Headquarters, The Blind Pig, and Tina and Queenie Goldstein’s apartment.

(Source.)

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Just...Shit

Haven’t been on in forever, so for those of you who follow this immensely boring account, welcome to my wall of rant. Don’t want to hear it, move on. This is the only place I can vent without pissing off family or getting my ass reamed for my language and life choices.

As much as I love the holidays, Christmas especially, this years sucked ass worse than any in history for me. And thats coming from a poor kid with parents too proud to ask for help and too addicted to their cigarettes to take care of their kids. My grandfather, the man who basically raised me and taught me wrong from right, the man who helped me grow up to be the person I am despite my parents, who loved Christmas probably more than I did because he got to see his family all together, who has supported me through every step of my shitty life, this man this amazing man. He died on December 21st exactly two weeks after his 89th birthday and four days before his favorite holiday. But let’s make it just a little bit harder okay? Since I live in a basement apartment below the house and have for the last EIGHT YEARS to help take care of him, well grandma is panicked and doesn't know what to do so get me and have her figure out what’s wrong. I run up the stairs at 1:30 in the morning because she doesn’t think he’s breathing and he hates when she calls EMS so tell her what to do. Walk into the room, and I already know he’s gone, but hell if I am going to consciously admit it. Call EMS and both sons (my dad and uncle) everyone shows up at once, and I, ME, THE GRANDDAUGHTER!!! ends up making decisions and answering questions because my grandmother has never had to control anything, she is a proper southern traditional housewife. He’s 89 she's almost 80 and they’ve been together for over 63 years, she’s never known anything else. EMS says he’s gone and has been for a while so it’s already too late. So let’s LEAVE HIM LAYING THERE SPREAD EAGLE AND START TALKING ABOUT OTHER SHIT WHILE HE LAYS THERE!!!! I mean I get it, my best friends dad is an EMT, he was there that night but left since they didn’t need two rigs, I know once we have acknowledged he is gone that you have to wait for body release or whatever, but is the living room stepping over his lifeless form to joke around with your co-workers about a bad date you have to talk to now because he’s the only one who can call about the release and then preceding to chat about recent dates and what your plans are like nothings happening really necessary when my grandfather IS LAYING THERE DEAD ON THE FLOOR WITH HIS FAMILY CRYING AROUND HIM? Anyway let’s move on to the fact that I can’t stand to be in my own house. That every time I hear movement upstairs I immediately think of him and if he’s doing something he shouldn’t be before I catch myself. Or that I am afraid to go upstairs because I don’t want to not see him sitting there. How bout the fact that as much as I miss him and want him back, I resent him for leaving because he took my small amount of life with him. I’ll be the first to admit that I am the poster child for social awkwardness. But I did like to get out of my house on occasion to spend time with the people I care about and am comfortable with. Now I can’t leave my house without making sure there’s someone with my grandmother and she hates needing a babysitter because she’s not an invalid but I’m the only family member without a life and since I already live here it’s my responsibility. I hate my life, my choices, and the fact that I resent him for dying. But I also hate that he’s not here. as much as he drove me crazy about some things because of our generational differences aI adored that man with everything that I am and I don’t want to have to wake up and know he’s not upstairs waiting to have coffee in the morning with me, or watching TV with him during the day, or kissing his head when I walk past because it made him smile that I cared. or the fact that every single night without fail he would call down to me to tell me goodnight and that he loved me. I would give anything to hear it one more time. I don’t regret a second of it because he knew how much I loved him, I told him every day, but I still want him here with me. He will never get to meet the guy I fall for and approve, he will never get to see my wedding, never see my kids. My niece was the only great grandbaby he had and that little girl was his entire world for the three and a half years he had with her. he would call to check on her every day and would be upset if he didn't see her at least once a week. The last thing he did every night after telling my grandma and I goodnight was to tell her picture how much he loved her and goodnight. He has 89 years, he was loved, respected, treasured, honored, and will forever be remembered. But I want him back. 

This turned more into a mess of I don’t know what but anyone who follows this already knows I either re-blog fun things or post rants. So you really should have expected it.

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“O Brother Where Art Thou?....”

Play Supernatural [S11E9] : O Brother Where Art Thou? Full Episode Now!!!!

More Episode:

>>Play Supernatural S11E8: Just My Imagination 

>>Play Supernatural S11E7 : Plush 

>>Play Supernatural S11E6: Our Little World 

>>Play Supernatural S11E5 : Thin Lizzie 

>>Play Supernatural S11E4: Baby 

>>Play Supernatural S11E3: The Bad Seed 

>>Play Supernatural S11E2: Form and Void 

>>Play Supernatural S11E1 : Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire 

“ Drama, Mystery, Sci-Fi & Fantasy “

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Just keep scrolling

While I spend a lot of time reblogging fandom stuff that seems to make the few people who see my posts smile, I feel like this has become my go to place when I am upset, so if you don’t want to read a rant you may keep scrolling. For those still reading, welcome to my life. 26, single, virgin (by choice), hella messed up in the head, and absolutely NO ability to figure my life out. I know this whole issue is probably caused by the fact that I am off my meds right now, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling it even if I am too medicated to deal with it usually. My life doesn’t suck that much, but it used to and the things that do are big enough to make it hard to get through the day. Let’s start with the meds...I am manic depressive with and anxiety disorder, a social disorder, a paranoia disorder, OCD, ADHD, and a complex the size of Australia. The meds...help...to the extent that they keep me from thinking about any of it and keep me grounded enough to focus on adult life and responsibilities I should be, but there are times when even that doesn’t work. And due to idiot doctors who can't set refills right, I am off my meds until my next appointment which just so happens to be right before Christmas. So I am already not doing well. Let throw on top of that the fact that I am in the midst of my first regular period (yes I said it, I’m a girl, deal) since I was a freshman in high school. So basically emotional as all hell with mood swings from the gods themselves. And I’m still trying to be responsible enough on top of it all to keep going to work so I don’t lose my job or piss anyone I know off. I was raised (borderline brainwashed) with a father who was mentally and emotionally abousive, and a mother that was too depressed to care; AND my father’s grandparents who were as close to biblical times traditional baptists as you could get. So during the week it was shit from every angle about how fat stupid lazy worthless blah blah blah me and my sister were and weekends of how the almighty God in the heavens would rain down fire and brimstone against the unbelievers and fornicators of the world...this said, somehow I came out relatively normal (in a not normal hella messed up but really good morals and super supportive kind of way). I believe in God I am a Christian, but at the same time I believe that everyone deserves respect and love if I every expect them to be able to be the same with me. SO while I may disagree with someone I can see their side and respect they have a different opinion than mine and move forward easily. But at the same time I am what my sister calls “relationship sensitive” which basically means after years of raising my sister I am super mature for my age in almost all aspects of life except one, you guessed it, intimacy of any kind. When it comes to relationships I am like a twelve year old blushing that a boy said the word penis let alone be capable of handling any sort of adult relationship. This means anyone who gets close to me has learned that it takes me a LONG time to open up fully to anyone and new people make me uncomfortable for a very long time till I get used to them. But that doesn’t stop me from longing for the life I’ve always wanted. I’ve been the mother figure in my friends lives forever, according to my sister I “grew mothers instincts” super early for making care of her in our childhood. But from the minute I was old enough I have dreamed, yearned, longed, every possible won that matches it, for a family of my own. A husband who loves and understands my quirks and inability to open up sometimes, children of my own that I can care for and spoil and raise the opposite of the way I was raised. But I am now 26 still single, and hating my self and my life because I can’t find anyone who is even remotely interested and I am too shy and uncomfortable to step out on my own and look. Everyone around me my age older and younger are having kids and happy and in relationships and I am sitting here by myself in my basements apartment wishing things were different and being terrified that I have missed my chance. I fight tooth and nail every day just to function but the thought that I am still alone and more lonely than I can even begin to try to explain just make me hurt bone deep. All I want to do anymore is cry, and all I ever do is wish for things I try to convince myself I will have in the future. But at the same time I sit here thinking why me? Why am I still alone and sad and lonely when everyone I know is happy? Am I doing something wrong, or is my life not as important as other people’s? I have spent years fighting to be the best I can through my disorders but I can only take so much. I don’t expect anyone to have made it this far, I know if it was about anything but my own life I’d probably never think to take a second look let alone read all the way through it. For those that did I thank you for reading the thoughts I needed to get out. And I’m sure it’s probably unfinished, but how do you answer a question you don’t know the answer to? And how do you move forward when all you can hear in your own head is that you brought this on yourself and you don’t deserve to be happy anyway. Ignore me and my ranting, this website is the only place I can go to post these things because there are too many people everywhere else who know me and the perfect smiling girl that people see can NEVER be the person who wrote this. It’s not worth it from all the well-meaning family who think I’m either crazy or don’t understand anyway who just tell me that it’ll get better and I shouldn’t think this way. I think it’s time to close my crazy rantings anyway. At least here even if no one ever reads it, I know I got it out, and if nothing else that helps.

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Rant Incoming

Have you ever been so pissed that you can't even think up a good fantasy to solve it. How can a 26 year old woman who lives in her own separate apartment be forced by "well-meaning" family to clean her house for someone who she doesn't even know to come in? Story time: I live in a one bedroom apartment below my grandparents. It's my space but because my grandparents own it and my grandma has family coming to visit, I have to do a full house clean to be ready for her family that I don't know to come through MY house when he visits. My logic was "it's my house and I don't know him so why would he want to come through and see my stuff" but according to them it's their house I'm just taking up space and when he comes he'll want to see HER house whether I'm in the space or not. So being the fucked up person that I am I don't handle stress well. I planned out recently to have one of my friends and my sister come next week to help me so I could do a little at a time and not lose my shit or hurt myself like I did last time. But "other" family members who have thought they were better than me for pretty much MY entire life are "trying to help" by offering to help me clean. But she only wants to help on a day when I am not free BECAUSE I am helping the same grandparents get the rest of THEIR stuff done because they are old and incapable of doing it themselves and the judging family can do all they want to take issue with how I live my life but not come help the elderly people they think so much of that they think I'm a bad person. And then she has the audacity to go back to her dad and tell him that I told her I was going to MAKE my grandmother help later next week on a day I wasn't planning on being home. So now my uncle is pissed at me and ripping me apart. As well as telling. My grandmother that it's not her job to clean up after her lazy useless granddaughter. Like I'm not fucked up in the head enough lets piss me off to the point that I can't even think of a way to release my anger without breaking things, which I can't do right now because we have "family" coming. I can't even try to regulate my frustration at this point because every time I think I've got it handled something else comes up and sets me off again. So for the grandparents who want me to get a job, I now have to cancel every appointment for job things that I have next week so I can help them do their stuff and get my own stuff done all because he decided to come at the beginning of the month instead of the end last minute. Wish me luck, it's going to be a long furious week for me.

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Not remotely fandom related

I am so tired of this frustrating, terrifying, stressful, tear-my-hair-out, all-out insanity ride that my life has become. I am ready to get off now. I think I would prefer something less stress-inducing, and more steady than what I have got now. If things keep up I will definitely not be there for the end of it. Please Note: This is not a trigger, a suicide warning or note, or a cry for help. This is the only outlet I have available where I can anonymously vent without the worry that family and friends will think something is wrong with me and thus treat me like the breakable thing I feel I might become.

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This page is a fan page. But considering I’m the type of person who can’t post her feelings on Facebook because of the people on my friends list, the few of you who follow me may have to deal with a rant post on occasion. The following is one.

So when you get into your first fight with your first every boyfriend (I'm a week shy of my 26th birthday so big deal) and you have a thousand things on your mind while he’s going crazy. Why in the hell would you let his best friend be the one via a picture of us on Facebook be the one to tell me it’s over? But even worse, she thought she was being sneaky by hiding the post from me so I couldn’t defend myself. Notice the note at the top. I am almost 26, emotionally stunted, and can’t defend my way out of a paper bag so of course I have a hell of a lot of friends and family members that do it for me because I can’t. And then for said boyfriend to get on there and defend his best friend and not me after she announces to everyone but me that my relationship is over when SHE STARTED EVERYTHING TO BEGIN WITH!!!!! You’ll understand why I am ever so pissed. So next time I’ll stick to being alone and maybe if I still haven’t found anyone by the time I’m 30 I’ll just have my own damn baby by myself. It’s not like I don’t have enough people to support me over it.