#i'm so glad you asked

[shanastoryteller]

Happy lovers season Shana! I'm very excited for the upcoming prompts! 😀 Can I please request some more Enola Holmes or Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries? 💚 If not please feel free to do a dealer's choice. I love all that you write and it fills me with joy to see new updates from you 😊

set in the same universe as Here is Your Home Country

Dot doesn’t want a big wedding, doesn’t want a lot of fuss. Married at her church, and then Prudence has offered to have the reception in her garden. Probably more at Jane’s insistence than anything else, but considering Mr. Butler has already insisted on handling the catering and logistics and anything else she might need assistance with, she might as well.

It’s sweet of him, really. She knows that he’s worried about her sisters that disapprove and her mother that disapproves and her brothers that had been apocalyptic at the news, and how that means she’ll be planning this wedding without them. She’s not worried. They’d never cared about her life or her happiness until it was something that would embarrass them.

The less said about what her friends from church think, the better. But she hasn’t headed their gossip for years, not since she started working for Miss Fisher.

Jack’s a good man and doesn’t deserve their ire. She won’t tolerate it.

~

“You’re really doing it, huh?”

Dot looks up and feels first pleasure then wariness that settles on a gut rolling mixture of the two. “Hello, Nell.”

Her older sister is standing over her, blocking her light, but she just closes her notebook and uses her foot to nudge the chair opposite her. The waiter should be by again soon.

She looks different out of the heavy makeup and light clothes of the club. Wearing a sweater and long skirt, she looks like the sister Dot remembers. “Mum called me. Me.”

Dot winces. “You’re invited, of course, I just wasn’t sure where to send the invite.”

Nell leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow and reaching into her purse for a cigarette. Dot wishes she wouldn’t. She hates the smell. “I didn’t really get that impression from you two.”

“We were just colleagues then,” she says, which isn’t completely accurate, but neither is friends. Or perhaps it is. They knew one another then, and respected each other, and were kind to one another. But she’d had Hugh, and Jack’s eyes had been on Miss Fisher, and – they hadn’t known, then, where they would end up.

It’s nice.

She knew him and liked him and cared about him before she loved him. It makes her feel like she can trust him, that he won’t surprise her in a way she doesn’t like.

Nell hums, then says, “She wants to know if you’re having money troubles.”

Dot stares, wishing she knew her mother a little less well and didn’t understand exactly what she was saying. “She thinks I’m marrying Jack for his money because I have gambling debts?”

She shrugs. “You know what she sees at the church.”

She’s not going to get angry. Getting angry won’t do her any good. “I’m marrying him because I love him.”

“You loved Hugh,” she says. “He was cute. Your age. He even converted.”

Part of her wonders who was keeping Nell updated on the gossip of her life. The rest of her doesn’t care. “He didn’t love me right.”

“There’s a wrong way?” she asks, too lightly.

“Yes,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling. “And I can’t love anyone right who loves me wrong. Hugh and I would have been miserable, in the end. We were in love with people that didn’t exist.”

She’d wanted someone who would love her through all of her changes.

Hugh had wanted someone who would never change.

Even in her bitterest moments, she can’t truly blame him. She had been a static woman when they’d met. She was the one that changed and she was the one that had wanted someone who would love her anyway and she was the one that had ended their engagement when she’d realized that someone wasn’t him.

Nell leans forward to steal her half-drunk cup of coffee, leaning back as she gulps it down in three long swallows. “Okay. I’ll tell Mum to back off, yeah? Not that it’ll do any good. She never listens to me anyway.”

“Oh,” Dot says, startled, and then Nell is getting to her feet and waving as she melts back into the crowd of the street.

~

Bert and Cec are in their room, sleeping after working through the night. Jack is over, but he’s never not known, and these days they don’t even bother to shove their twin beds apart when he's here.

She’s seated on her knees at the coffee table, Jack sitting behind her on the couch, nose buried in a case file that she’s going to look over herself as soon as she figures out this seating chart.

Jack clears his throat and she leans back, pressing her back to his knees and looking up. The file has been discarded and he’s looking at her with a sort of warm softness that has her reaching out her hand and letting him haul her upright just enough so that she can fall into his lap, seated sideways so her legs are stretched out over the couch.

His arms come around her waist and his lips quirk up in an almost smile. She smooths out the line between his eyebrows with her thumb, almost asks, but know it’s a waste when he’s nearly there already.

Sure enough, he looks at the space over her head and asks, “Do you want us to get a new house?”

She blinks. She hadn’t considered it, really, had assumed that she’d move into the house Jack has now. She’s been there. It’s a very nice house. A little empty feeling, perhaps, but she figured they’d solve that quickly enough. Instead of saying any of that, she asks, “Do you want me to want us to get a new house?”

He looks at her then, exasperated, and she smiles, shifting her hand lower to trace his bottom lip. He licks his lips, his tongue barely brushing her fingertip, and her breath hitches, but he says, “Rosie picked it.”

It makes sense that his first wife helped pick the house, and Dot has never tiptoed her way around Rosie, but that’s not quite what he’s saying.

Rosie picked it.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Jack shrugs, looking away from her again. “She made a good choice.”

“Yes,” Dot agrees. It really is a very nice house, in a good area. “But do you like it?”

He shifts beneath her, meeting her gaze when he admits, “I let her pick what she wanted. I thought things would be okay, if I could give her what she wanted.”

And now it reminds him of how much that didn’t work, how she left that house and him both. He’d offered her the house in the divorce, but she hadn’t wanted it, for her own reasons.

“Why don’t we pick something we both want?” she asks, because no matter how nice the house is, she doesn’t want what he doesn’t’. “I bet Mac has some good leads on houses that are going to be on the market. She knows so many useful things like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, relief making his whole body relax even as his arms tighten, tugging her that much closer against him.

“Yeah,” she echoes, then dips down her head for a kiss he’s eager to give her.

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

I wonder, in what app do you draw? (sorry if it were asked already, I didn't found anything similar)

Paint 3D Pixel Pen 5px thickness 100% opacity Color #000000 3+ yr old laptop Apply middle finger directly to keyboard touchpad beanbag and blanket combo

me: "i wonder why my back hurts" ALSO ME:

[il3x]

@heliosandsonchariotco oh ho HO!!! [cracks knuckles]. You betcha.

Disclaimer 1: 90 percent of my christhoughts are WILD extrapolation. He unfortunately isn't like this in most of the text. He's also an asshole for most of the text.

Disclaimer 2, I don't remember Ward perfectly (and I'm not finished it), so wardreaders please feel free to add on or remove chapters that aren't essential. Speaking of, the essentials are in bold.

THE CHRIS ELMAN SUPERCUT:

Glow-worm 0.6: PHO interlude debut.

[As an aside, I would also highly recommend Glow-worm 0.7, Kenzie’s interlude debut! Might help you understand her relationship with Chris, will definitely get you hooked on her as a character. You might cry.]

Flare 2.5 - intro to the team, including Chris. Tldr: Ms Yamada asks Victoria to help mentor her therapy group in their transition to being a hero team (well, technically, she asks Vic to dissuade them from being a hero team…) and warns her that one of them in particular is dangerous.

The first training fight with Breakthrough (the team) is pretty good groundwork. Starts at 3.2 (or end of 3.1); ends in 3.4, I think. 3.2 is the really essential bit though.

4c has a brief but impactful chris moment.

End of 6.4 and 6.5 has one of my favourite chris scenes. 6.6 is also good for casual moments. 

Torch 7.7 is absolutely essential chris content. This was the chapter that got me invested in him. 7.8 is also good.

Beacon 8.6 and 8.7: good look at the grosser side of his powers. And metaphors ohhh hhhhh my fucking god you can read SO much metaphor into this form. It’s not really there but it is if you believe <3

Uh, 9.2 has some moments, and sets up for the upcoming arc. 9.3 has a good moment. I thought the Goddess arc was just gonna be Breakthrough’s Youngest Members Defeat Masters With The Power Of Trust Issues, partly bc of this chapter.

Gleaming 9.15. Sigh. This is where my blog header comes into effect.

-Last scene of 10.13. AND THEN BEST CHAPTER FOR MY BOY!!! 10.Y!!! HIS INTERLUDE!!!!!!!

And that’s about where my Chris scholarship ends. My Ward progress ends soon after.

[hillbilly---man]

do you have any internal rules about what makes a good/bad olympic mascot, like how you say a flag should not have words on it (I agree by the way. unless its funny)

Kind of!

Most of it is just vibes, to be honest.

-I prefer the single mascots to the ones that come as a big group

-I also tend to not care much for the CGI ones. I think they're kind of boring

- I really like it when you can tell something about the host based on the mascot! Like if you can just look at it and think "hmmm. That guy looks French/Greek/Soviet/Canadian etc"

-And honestly........ I'm a sucker for cool merch. If I can go on eBay and buy a bunch of vintage stuff with a mascot on it, it makes me like that mascot a little more

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

I just wanna say bc I KNOW you're somewhere on tumblr, to the teenage girl who attended Take Your Kid To Work Day at an office building in Ontario, Canada circa 2013 and had a conversation with a middle aged woman in which you showed her your Black Veil Brides fanart and fanfics and ship content and told her about different fanfic tropes including a/b/o verse bc she happened to know who Panic! at The Disco and Fallout Boy were and thus you felt the need to show her your bandblr ship art, that was my fucking mother and I had to clarify all that to her including looking my mother in the eye and trying to explain a/b/o verse without sounding like a lunatic.

It's been 10 years and I still regularly sent evil energies in your direction. Since you'd be probably two years younger than me and thus legally an adult now, please know if this post reaches you it's on sight.

[your-good-pal-chevy]

Swordtember : 8 : Psychopomp

Lei had gone as far as his legs would carry him. He panted with exhaustion, leaning against a tree for support. In the darkness of the forest, he could not be sure he was safe enough to rest, but his body refused to go on. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, lying on his back and staring blankly up at the blackness and the leaves.

He wasn't sure when he lost consciousness. At some point, he just became aware of how little he was aware of. His body wasn't aching from his mad dash through the night, it felt weightless, he felt strangely at ease.

Obviously, he didn't trust such things. Lei knew what his dreams held, and so he knew what would be coming.

He looked down at himself, splattered with mud and gore, his jian clutched in his white-knuckled fist.

Lei shoved the sword into his belt, furrowing his brow in contemplation. He hadn't seen that sword since he was captured by the Greencloaks. He wasn't sure where he was anymore, when this vision took place.

This was somehow different from the usual ones. He didn't feel as if he was reliving a memory, he didn't feel as though he'd been here. He looked around, and where there had been trees, there were now the stone walls of some ancient ruin. The ground beneath was slick with rain, the dirt having become a mire from the water and the blood.

There were bodies. Countless bodies. He could scarcely identify them, save for symbol on the blue tabards they wore. A white raincloud with a golden lightning bolt lancing down from it.

He racked his brain, trying to place the heraldry, but it was to no avail. He had never seen this symbol before.

Suddenly, he became aware of a presence behind him. He whirled around, nearly tripping on one of the bodies' splayed legs, drawing his jian as he turned.

There, standing to face him with his own sword drawn, was Lei himself. Not Lei. The thing he had been waiting for.

"Tell me," the Not Lei said in its monotone imitation of his voice, "Tell me what you think of death."

Lei answered it, as he always did. "It comes too soon for some, and it comes too late for others. But it always arrives."

The Not Lei darted forward, weaving through the mess of bodies on the ground with ease. Its sword lashed out, striking not at Lei himself but at his blade, trying to disarm him.

Lei stumbled backward, tripping over one of the dead men. His sword hand stung with the effort of warding off the Not Lei's blows, and he couldn't find his footing.

"Tell me," the Not Lei roared, "Tell me how you will die!"

"With sword in hand!" Lei crouched low to avoid a swing and sprung forward, slashing wildly at the Not Lei's legs. The Not Lei danced backward, stepping carelessly upon the corpses that littered the road.

"Tell me," the Not Lei whispered, "Tell me who you are."

The Not Lei leapt up, far higher than a human ought to be able, and landed sideways on a stone pillar. It pointed its blade at Lei, crouched, and shot forward like an arrow from a bow. The pillar was knocked back by the force as the Not Lei launched itself toward its foe.

Lei couldn't get out of the way in time. He kept his jian ahead of him, but lost it in the collision. His sword flew away, but he escaped the Not Lei's lightning thrust.

Lei drew a knife from his belt, brandishing it toward the thing with hatred in his eyes. "I am Zhu Lei, nephew to Zhu Huan. I am your death. Approach me if you dare."

"Death," the thing repeated, listlessly.

"Yes! I am death!" Lei swiped the air with the knife, teeth bared in a stubborn refusal to give in.

"I am death." The thing stepped forward, dropping its sword, not halting its stride even as its chest came into contact with the point of Lei's knife. It continued to press in, shoving the blade into its own ribs, until its nose was nearly touching Lei's.

It locked eyes with him. He refused to blink first. Blood trickled down the hilt of the knife. The rain grew louder. Lei could feel the sweat on his brow. The Not Lei stared with empty eyes.

"I am death," it finally said. "And you are death. And we are death." It gestured around the ruins.

"I will remember this place. I will wait for you here. You will forget it. But you will remember. Here." It reached up and touched Lei's chest above his heart, the same place on the Not Lei's body where his knife had slipped between its ribs. "You are not death. But you will be. And I will be there. And we will be death."

Lei awoke with a start, drenched with sweat. It was still dark, and he could hear nothing but the sounds of the forest at night. Insects chirping, the rustle of leaves on the wind. No shouting bandits, keen to recapture him.

He struggled to his feet and dusted himself off. He had time.

He did not remember his dream, save for the vaguest of impressions. He knew it had visited him again. He knew the Sword God had some plan for him.

He didn't care. He had places to be. He had men to kill.

[a-rabbit-obsessed-queer]

Aspec men deserve much more respect and recognition in the aspec community than they receive. They often face a different form of aphobia specific to them ("men are naturally sexual they can't be ace" "all men are unromantic that's not unique") this rhetoric is spouted by many, even members of our own community and I hope for a day where that is no longer the case. As an ace and demiro woman (demigirl but that's beside the point) I want to encourage folks to take the time to give the aspec men in their lives support and to the aspec men reading, you are who you say you are no matter what people say and you deserve the world. I'm sorry for the ways in which toxic masculinity has harmed you. You are a valued member of the aspec community and the queer community as a whole. No ace or aro person is broken and neither are you. I'm sorry if anyone has ever told you otherwise.

[keferon]

The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~

Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍

[thebigolbee]

why do you draw Mr.House kinda… 😳

The amount of hours I've spent thinking about this fool is genuinely bananas

[alenkosx]

Then & Now. 

“She likes you.”

“She didn’t at first.”

[scurvyboy]

ok its kinda awkward. but your super honest humble thoughts about fiddlebill but with possesing fords body (like theyre doing stuff but ford has no clue about it)?

idk i just keep thinking about these dorks and ok its super unhealthy but kinda funny how they could just kick ford out to wander as a ghost and he wouldn't even mind it at all bc it gives him opportunity to explore things in gravity falls

honestly that makes a lot of sense to me. allow me to refer to my graph:

as you can see, according to the challengers love triangle diagram, fiddleford is placed on the "horny" corner. This means that he is majorly part of the relationship for the physical aspects of it. obviously he still clearly has feelings for ford, but over all ford is more emotionally attached to both him and bill. also fidds isn't emotionally attached to bill at all and vice versa. bill would probably go for fidds because he'd want to use fords body to fuck something and he already knows that he would be game.

because of this, it's fairly safe to assume that fiddleford would bang bill while he's possessing fords body. I think he would be into it but also feel a little bad morally (his morals are shot). ford also seems like he only has sex with humans in two positions and refuses to make eye contact, which fiddleford attended coked out bisexual swinger parties in the 70's mcgucket wouldn't be into all the time. He would not have sex with bill in triangle form because he's not as much of a freak as ford is.

also i love the idea of ford as a ghost just hanging out and doing his own thing while they get nasty. he absolutely would use this as an opportunity to enter government buildings and look at classified documents.

I hope this was humble and in depth enough for you. and in all honesty, i think not even considering a ship just because it's kind of toxic is a bit stupid if everyone in it is a bad person. i think it's great specifically because they're all bad people.

[mymhameme]

I came to your account from a post with eri and aizawa and now you’ve got me invested in spinner x shigaraki somehow :D? Ur account is cool! (I hope I’m using this feature right, not quite sure how this app works. U don’t have to respond btw I just thought it was funny)

Thank you! They sneak up on you for sure!

Tiny morsels for the newest spinaraki member 😊 <3

[deoidesign]

"what do hands mean about a character?"

Their hands mean they love eachother

(webcomic)

[vaggieslefteye]

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ↳ anonymous asked: HUSK and ALASTOR or angel and valentino?

[destinationtoast]

So, Tumblr is doing another new thing, and you may want to make your Likes private.

On my dash, I've started seeing posts with a header that says "Liked by [username of someone I follow]."

So far via this new feature, I have learned that various people I follow are fans of spicy queer photography, rpf, and some controversial opinions. Which is hardly surprising on tumblr dot com, but I haven't seen some of those people reblog such content in the past, so I didn't know that about them previously. (All these folks have their Likes publicly available, so I could in theory have browsed the posts they liked before. But to me, there's a difference between having Likes visible when people go looking for them vs. having them publicized on followers' dashes.)

If you don't like the idea of your liked posts showing up on followers' dashboards with your name at the top, you can change your settings so your Likes are private.

On mobile, open up your settings and click "Pages:"

Then make sure that sharing is turned off for Likes:

You can also send feedback to Tumblr.

[satans-knitwear]

Don't stand up, just use your words for me

Please, p-p-pretty please?

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me