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#seeing a pattern of dinosaurs all over it.
wienners · 30 days
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the worst thing (and probably the the thing that spurred my everymanhybrid rewatch) was watching the q&as as background noise a few months ago and realizing i have the same fucking khols button up
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leisureflame · 30 days
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"I CANT THINK"
If you write, I assure you you have thought that.
Fear no more child, for I have found a solution.
it's called Rapid writing
something we learned when I was in 9th grade drama class and I cannot emphasize enough just how effective it is. Its actually what gave me the idea for my first book.
Stop what you are doing and do what I tell you
go grab either a pencil and paper (or open an empty document)
set a timer for 2 minutes
ask a friend to give you a random sentence. I have a few examples that I myself rapid wrote to: a) I looked around and saw b) the old lady hung from the ceiling and laughed c) purple paint dripped from her long purple fingernails d) there is a hole in my ceiling. e) when I am sad I... f) When you close the door, I... g) there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob
Now the most important thing is not to think of this sentence before you start writing. as soon as you decide which one if you are choosing from my examples (or as soon as you hear it if you are getting if from a friend), start the timer.
start writing the sentence and without hesitating just keep writing. the #1 rule here is to not stop or hesitate for a single second until the 2 minutes are over. you can write nonsense if you want and if you REALLY can't continue then write some random words for a couple of seconds then continue AS LONG AS YOU ARE STILL WRITING.
another rule is that you are not allowed to delete. even if its a spelling error, just ignore it.
after the timer is done, I promise you will have something to work with. now copy the paragraph you wrote and paste it below, here you can start fixing spelling errors and adding things at your own pace because now the creative side of your brain has opened.
don't think about the way you are writing or the words you use, think about the story you are telling. the idea.
Sometimes you will get something beautiful and deep like I did here:
When I am sad I go to my blanket, not many people know about it, all they think is happening is that a child likes to cuddle in a blanket, but no. my blanket has a special thing about it, it is a magical blanket, well, not the blanket itself but the embroidery on the blanket, it simply takes my sadness away but it adds the story of my emotions to the embroidery, my blanket is a very pretty one, it is a pastel blue color and it has so much silk embroideries that you just think its patterns, but it isn't, if you look deeper you will find stories every one of those stories came from someones tears... my tears. whenever i cry, i wipe my tears with my blanket and my pain goes but my story stays.
or
there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob on the door there is a painting of you, and there are many locks on the door from top to bottom, when you open the door, there is a mirror. this door is the door to self discovery, from the outside there is a painting of how people think you look like but when you open the door, you get to see what you really are in detail and look at yourself they way you want to, you can smile or cry and the refection on the mirror will change but on the painting, it doesn't show ur emotions, just how people see you usually.
or you can get something so stupid like i did here:
there is a hole in the ceiling in my classroom. everyday a dinosaur would a pear and eat my lunch and i keep coming home hungry but my mom dsays she packed me enough food. so she didn't feed me. i told her a dinasour was eating my lunch but she said that disasours only live in Norway! so i went into the school vents looking for that idino and revenge my food, we met at last, held our weapons, i was holding a subway sandwich and the dino was holding a bana na MY BANANA  i lost it, so i attacked him one hit on the head and the whole species were extinct , people thousand of years from now said dinos got extinct because of a meteorite but i know better, also i am still alive because whoever kills a dino becomes immortal, also i killed my mom for not believing me and let her starve in her grave just like she let made me starve. and then i killed everyone who was a flat earther because i hate them and now i can kill anyone once i tap them with my super subway sandwich 
(by the way, ignore the horrible spelling, the examples i gave were from the unedited version.)
THE POINT IS ITS ACTUALLY SO HELPFUL. you can use it for a new story idea (i used the blanket one as an element in one of my WIPs and it helped the story a lot) or if you get something stupid like the dino one I wrote THATS GOOD THATS FINE because now you have your creativity going.
I challenge you to actually try this and PLEASE share it with me I LOVE reading other peoples rapid writings. have fun <3
tagging @cosmosandcapybaras24 @ajsbookshelf @gloryofdawn, @chaoticharmony93 @deception-united and anyone else who's interested to try this out and share with me!
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httpisaoki · 2 months
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i. lazy morning + kiss countdown
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sypnosis: It was the week before your girlfriend's birthday but while her schedule was jam-packed and stressful, unbeknownst to her--- you prepared the best surprise you've ever planned for her.
alternative: phase one of y/n's plan to annoy her birthday girl!!
warnings: fluff, established relationship, jimin is sleepy, jimin is wife material (as always), she's so gf material :((, kisses, pure flufffff, cooking for the birthday girl!!
-> part one of the birthday series!! if watched the jimin birthday cooking video you'll get the soup reference lmao. wc is 1.8k!!
series masterlist. next.
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ever before you and jimin started dating, you always managed to surprise her with weird things on holidays, most especially on her birthday.
on her 20th birthday, you surprised her with 20 cakes for her, all with her favorite dinosaur on them. on her 22nd birthday, you surprised her to a trip to jeju, another dinosaur-themed birthday was checked on that day.
and finally, on her last birthday, you surprised her backstage during her concert holding multiple banners with her name plastered on everyone in different patterns and holding up the 5 layered cake in your hands– least to say, you absolutely loved celebrating her birthday with her. i mean who wouldn't want to just spoil a girlfriend like her, right?
but now, it was 10 days before jimin's birthday and you showed her no sign of celebrating at all this year, but that was your plan. 
you had gave her subtle hints, gifting her the things she thought were pretty, just spoiling her with anything she asked for or wanted, but you planned a set of surprises for that day, and it was by far the best surprise you planned.
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the night before her birthday, phase one had began. You had set up your alarm for 12:00, the second it was april 11th, you would wake her up and try to annoy her for at least 10 minutes. It was mean, yes, but it would be worth it to annoy her on her day just to see the look of surprise on her face once jimin realized your plans.
Jimin had texted you, saying that she would be late. You chuckled at the sight of the text, you guessed right. And your plan was slowly falling into place. So you did the next step, sleep and wake up to your alarm right after the clock hit 12.
your alarm woke you up, shifting your body to face your girlfriend, staring at her facial features like she was a piece of art (i mean she is). you grow fond of how peaceful she looks while she slept, always so gorgeous even when sleeping.
you grinned as it was already time for your plan. You sit up, pecking her lips, stirring her awake. 
she groans, "baby?" you hummed, "23 left." you teased, wanting to see a reaction from her. she furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes slowly opening as she realizes. horror in her face as she did.
you chuckled, pecking her cheek, whispering "22 more. you better wake up, yu jimin."
she grumbled, "please," she said in a soft tone, hiding her face away again, trying to go back to sleep. she rolled over away from you, but you pulled her back. 
she tried to cover her face with the blanket to hide away from you, but you kept pulling it away, grinning and chuckling while doing so.
you placed one more peck on her cheek, telling her in a teasing tone, "21 more.."
you pat her head, "yah, happy birthday, jagi.." you smiled at her. 
she scoffed at you, a smirk growing on her face, "shut up," she said, now rolling over to face you again. before she rolled back over, she grabbed your arm, pulling you to her, and grabbing you close. 
but she didn't let go, still holding you tightly in her grasp. it was so warm and cozy, you didn't dare to move at all.
"you better go back to sleep.." she muttered, before she slowly drifted off to sleep again, still clinging onto your arm tightly.
You laughed, "alright fine. it's midnight anyway. sleep well, baby" you cooed, watching her slowly fall asleep as you waited for the night to pass by. 
as the hours passed, you couldn't help but feel a bit impatient. not only was that because you wanted to see the look on her face once you surprised her, but also the fact that you've been planning this for so long and didn't want to risk her finding out accidentally.
you felt her grip on your arm slowly started to loosen, her hand finally released it. her breathing seemed a bit more steady as she was finally into deep sleep.
You were amused that it was so easy to plan your surprise, ‘how could she not realize?’ You chuckled, thinking to yourself before falling asleep.
hours later, the sun slowly shone into the room, making your girlfriend stir as she slowly woke up. a yawn escaped her lips as she slowly opened her eyes and stretched, and she glanced towards the clock, and she glanced at her phone on the nightstand next to you.
"morning..." she mumbled, stretching and rubbing her eyes.
"mhm... good morning," you replied softly back to her, wrapping your arm around her to pull her to you as you cuddled her close. she mumbled, a yawn escaping her lips once more followed by a tired groan and a small huff.
she then nuzzled into you, making herself comfortable as she cuddled into your grasp. it was so warm, soft, and cozy, that you didn't want to let go, just wanting to continue holding her in your arms.
"happy birthday, baby," you whispered, pulling her even closer as your arms wrap around her.
"m-mmm..." she mumbled sleepily, slowly shifting her head to face you, her expression being tired still. she groans, "you better let me sleep..." she muttered, turning around to face away from you, before slowly shifting in your arms as she tried to get comfy again. she slowly cuddled into your side as she nuzzled her head up to your neck, nuzzling you gently for a moment.
"alright," you pat her head again, slowly standing up, "rest more, alright? don't go out until you've risen from a coma," you joked, pecking her lips before turning to leave the room.
 "20 more!" you yell out, closing the door before she could protest.
she grumbled, sighing as she heard the door shut, now alone with her thoughts and her phone beside her. 
she yawned again, groaning quietly as she slowly sat up on the bed. she shifted herself around, making herself comfortable and slowly started to scroll through her phone, not doing much, just trying to occupy herself or waste the time.
"I wonder what she's doing," she mumbles, and eventually the smell of her favorite dishes catches her attention.
the scent of food wafts over her nose, catching her attention easily. she slowly sits up, a small smile growing on her lips as her stomach growls, and her eyes glaze over. 
she stands up from the bed, adjusting her position as she walks over to find the source. she walked out of the room, the smell getting brighter as she got closer.
she soon found herself in the kitchen, the dishes she could smell were exactly what she thought they were, her favorites.
her eyes beamed with delight as she saw your back, her stomach rumbling at the thought of the smell alone.
she took her steps quietly, sneaking over to the kitchen as she watched you from behind. the smell was so strong it made her mouth water.
she couldn't help herself, standing on her toes, watching you cook silently from behind. suddenly, her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and she nuzzled into your back, "mmm..." 
she was silent for a moment, before she whispered, "what are you cooking?"
You hummed, "sea mustard soup." you replied, grabbing a spoon, scooping up some soup, and gesturing it for her to taste. "here." you carefully hold up the spoon close to her face.
she grabbed the spoon, taking the spoonful of soup from your fingers. she looked at the soup, smelling the familiar scent, before finally taking a bite. her eyes glaze over, her mouth watering as she did. 
she took a moment before replying, "mmm... it's so... good..." a smile grew on her face as she ate a few more spoonfuls, eating some of the vegetables before looking up at you.
"eat now. the soup's almost done. I won't be able to be with you while on your schedule but enjoy your day, alright birthday girl?" you teased, pointing towards the dishes already set on the table.
a smile grew on her face, now taking some of the dishes and starting to eat. there were fried veggies, rice, soup, and some meat, and everything looked and tasted delicious. 
she hummed quietly as she ate silently, before stopping to look at you, her lips curling upwards in a playful pout. 
"why can't you join me?" she asked, her tone being a mixture of a playful whine and a teasing tone at you as well.
she then continued eating, but her eyes lingered on you, watching you as you finished up the last bit of preparations. she then glanced towards the table and her phone beside it, noticing her schedule. 
she hummed, eating some vegetables before looking back at you. "could you sit with me?" she begged, tilting her head before she looked down at the ground, a blush growing on her cheeks due to her begging.
you walked over to the table, her favorite birthday tradition in your hands. her face brightened as she noticed the sea mustard soup was ready.
"I need to go to work after, baby," you give her an apologetic smile, knowing she didn't like it when you didn't eat together.
she sighed, a small pout growing on her cheeks, "alright... but promise me we'll eat tonight together too?" she asked, her eyes begging you for a little bit of compassion. 
her lips then turned into a smirk, "pleaseee?" she begged quietly, looking at you with her cute, big, brown eyes, the same eyes she used to convince you to do stuff for her.
you smiled, "well, of course, I already told manager unnie after your schedule that we'd go out after." you take a seat across from her, chuckling at her pout.
she sighed in relief, a small smile growing on her lips as she sat back down before leaning back in her chair. she nodded, "alright... i'll be looking forward to that, jagi," she hummed, picking at her food again before she continued eating silently, now wanting to enjoy the rest of the peaceful time she had before she prepared herself for the day ahead.
she slowly ate the rest of her meal, now finishing up her plate before her phone was once again calling out her attention. her eyes glazed over, seeing that it was 10:30am on the schedule.
she sighed, before slowly standing up from her chair, glancing at you as she did. "gotta prepare for my schedule today, can't be late," she muttered quietly, before leaning over the table, giving you a quick peck and a tight hug.
"see you in the evening," she mumbled, her tone being softer, more affectionate, and more gentle compared to this morning's earlier interaction. she gave one last smile before she gently untangled herself from the hug, now beginning her morning routine. she walked out of the kitchen, making her way to the bathroom, but not without taking a single glance back at you one last time.
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chaosandmarigolds · 29 days
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you can skip this all u want but
I wanna know abt readers ex ngl
why does Ollie have attachment issues?
you seem like you could do soft angst, 👻
(I audibly giggled like a maniac when I opened this, because angst has my heart. it has my HEART- only when it ends in fluff tho, otherwise someone might as well just shove me in a ditch it feels the same- ahem, sorry, got sidetracked)
Let’s do a lil flashback and backstory to this whole…debacle shall we?
May 20th
“Annnn then we got get- got get, noo-no! Ister Riley no,” Ollie grumbles as he reaches over the block castle he had spent the last twenty minutes building to grab the toy Simon was holding- a tyrannosaurus, or as Ollie called him- The Superman. The little boy fixes the doll cape attached to the toy and then holds it back out, “Otay, is fix.”
Simon nods, “Good good, he needs to have his-his-“
“The cape gives him powers.”
“Oh!” Simon agrees and looks at the worn out toy, the cape like it would be found on an actual Superman toy but put on a dinosaur. He only looks back to Ollie as the boy goes on about grabbing the rest of the toys he thought they should have.
“Yeah, that what my daddy tell me. That-that my superhero cape make me have superpowers.” A short silence and he sets the toy fire truck down along with a tow truck, “It no give me power, but it does for Bo though.”
(Bo, the name of the T-Rex.)
Simon looks at the boy, watching his demeanor change and he holds how the toy, “‘ell your dad was right, Bo does have some super cool powers.”
To that Ollie takes the toy and then shrugs, “I guess. But my dad- he-he lies and you say lying is not good.”
“Ladd I’m sure your dad didn’t lie,” Simon returned, it was just a toy, and he couldn’t see the harm in letting a three year old believe in superpowers for his plastic T-Rex.
Ollie shakes his head, “But he do! He said he come back for-for my birthday and no come, he didn’t-he lie.”
“Oi, Olls, ‘m sure your dad wanted to come, he just couldn’t-
“My mom doesn’t like him anymore, I heard her talk to my Auntie Beth and she said my dad is lair and mean- so that mean he not good.”
Simon, upon a lot of other things, realized that little kids really did share anything that came to their mind. and that he should definitely do some more research.
July 2nd
“It is-“ you laugh out a sigh as you stumble into the entrance of Simon’s house, having left your umbrella outside, “Raining cats and dogs out there!”
Almost as it had fallen into some odd and domestic pattern, he helped you take off the coat and hang it off without much speaking and you then look to him as you take off your boots, “Thank you for watching him later, I didn’t know I would be working a double and it-“
“No problem, darling. Lil’ guy was out by seven.” He cut you off and hung up the coat beside Ollie’s on the rack, which hung beside his own, “You go’ dinner al’eady?”
You hum and stand back up, “Are you offering?”
“Aren’t I always?”
Dinner was a delicacy of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and oven cooked fries, matched with a hearty portion of sprite. And about an hour of what you would consider you yapping about your crappy day, and what he would consider it favorite part of the day- you finally faltered, leaning on the dinner table with a dull and lifeless laugh.
“I feel like…I owe you, god, I owe you my life or something.”
He furrows his eyebrows to that, “No’ why? ‘M no doing anything special.”
You give him a look, “Free babysitting for one. Not to mention the rides, you-you pay for him to go to soccer, and you go to the games and you buy him clothes and you love him and you care for him and-“ you cut yourself off and look up to stop the tears- which were threatening to flow, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. I’m…it’s just- no, it’s just been a day.”
Now, Simon was many things, a merciless killer and a solider was one of them but he always knew how to read body language. What really gave it away was how you messed with your ring finger, as if you were twisting a nonexistent ring, “What’s today?”
A glance up to him and you give a dull laugh, almost mocking yourself with your words, “I got married five years ago today. Wore the pretty dress and said ‘I do’ to a man that was a piece of shit but damn….i loved him. I did. I loved him so- and I’m, god, Simon you gotta tell me to shut up sometimes.”
He looks at you, and he knew you couldn’t read him, but there was sadness etched in his expression, “I never want you to shut up, luv.”
( That’s all the backstory you get for right now! Aka, I am doing this on my phone and my thumbs hurt…and all I’ve thought of rn- comments, feedback, and your ideas make my day!! Annnnyway that’s it! <33)
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could you tell me more about spoonflower? i'm interested in uploading my own designs, but i'm not entirely sure how it works or how much it pays. thank you!
Sure! When you first upload your design, it'll look like this.
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The standard DPI for printing on all the fabric sites I've seen is 150, and since I made this pattern at 200 DPI that means Spoonflower will print it bigger than I want it unless I change it here. So I click on the "change DPI" thing, type in "200" and click "change". Sometimes I find it doesn't save, so I always go back later to check and make sure it did save the right DPI.
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(You can avoid this by just changing your image to the right DPI before uploading, but sometimes I want the option to make it a bit bigger, just in case.)
If you want to make multiple sizes of the same pattern available you'll have to upload a different version for each one and change the size individually. For example, I drew my Bathroom Dinosaurs pattern pretty large and at 150 DPI, and left that as is for the big version.
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But I wanted a small version too, so for that one I changed it to 670 pixels per inch so it'd print much smaller.
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You write in the title, tags, and description, and you can put any links to other pages or references in the "Additional Details" section.
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(Leaving links isn't usually necessary, but sometimes it is, like how I wanted to leave a link to the original 1760's teapot for my crinoid fossil pattern.)
At this point, you can order things printed with your design, but nobody else can yet. You have the option to show the design publicly, but I like to keep it private until I've ordered my proofs and can sell it.
Now, to order proofs! DO NOT GET THE CUT SWATCHES!!! They are SO much more expensive than getting a fill-a-yard, because cutting and packaging all the little pieces is a lot of extra labour. Wether you have a few designs, or a lot, just get a fill-a-yard.
To make a fill-a-yard you first need to make a collection. Collections can be either public or private, so I keep a private collection called "new designs to proof", and I put all my new designs in there until I've ordered them. You can also add other people's patterns to a collection, so if you have extra space to fill up or you want little bits of a bunch of other people's patterns for a quilt or something, add whatever you want to your collection.
On the collections page when you hover your mouse over one you'll see a little patchwork symbol show up in the middle along the bottom edge, and you click on that.
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That'll take you here, and you choose a layout and a fabric.
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For some reason the fabric options here are a bit limited and vary depending on the layout. I like to get either the 1 yard/42 designs in cotton poplin, or the 2 yards/48 designs in cotton sateen, but there are plenty more you could try.
I'll click the latter for this example. (The squares in this one are the perfect size for pleated face masks, and I have a few made from mine and my friend's fabrics.)
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Then you just click on a design and click on however many squares/rectangles you want it to fill. It usually takes a few seconds for them to show up.
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You can have just one little sample of each, or you could make half the fabric be one design and fill up the rest with little samples. (That's what I did for my brown monster waistcoat - I printed juuuust enough of a fill-a-yard to cut out a waistcoat from, and the rest was other samples.)
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You can change it around if you want. Once you're happy with it, put it in the cart and buy it!
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I'm not going to order this one since it's an example with designs I've already proofed, but here's what my monster patterns looked like when they arrived.
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Also, I want to point out that you could VERY easily make some really fun pride flags using the fill-a-yard! You might have to have it be only part of the fabric, depending on the number of stripes, but you could make it be any texture or pattern you want. Here's a quick example I did with other people's patterns by searching "(colour) marble texture".
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With only 4 stripes I'd have to fill the rest of the space in with something else and cut it off, but it would still be pretty big! (The edge of that purple stripe looks jagged in the preview, but they print perfectly straight.)
I have not done this, but someone should! Just wash it, trim the blank edges off, hem it, and you've got a flag!
(Don't do this with the 2 yards/4 designs option though, it looks like nice stripes in the thumbnail but it's made for infinity scarves and there's a gap and dotted line down the middle for cutting. Bleh.)
Anyways, once your samples arrive you can make the designs available for sale! If you have any changes you'd like to make, to the size it prints at or the pattern itself, you can make them now.
I found the small version of the Bathroom Dinosaurs print was too small when I first got my proofs, so I just reduced the DPI a bit.
And you can replace the image with a new, edited version by clicking "upload revision".
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So when my brown coffin pattern printed really washed out and grey, I replaced it with a more saturated version and was good to go, no need to order another proof.
Down at the bottom of the design editing page you can now click on the options to list it publicly, and to sell it on fabric and/or wallpaper. I make all of them available on fabric, and some on wallpaper if I deem them to be appropriately large.
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They'll pay you 10% of the sales price of the fabric, or slightly more if you sell over a certain amount in a month. There's a whole page of questions and answers about it.
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You also get a 10% discount if you order fabrics with your own designs. (Although, personally, if I'm ordering my own designs on fabrics for me then I'd prefer to get them from somewhere like ArtFabrics, since they use reactive dyes instead of inks, so their blacks actually print black and don't make the fabric stiffer like Spoonflower's do. And also because they're here in Canada so there's less shipping cost. Sadly they don't have an option to sell your designs though.)
Spoonflower also has weekly design contests which are announced a few weeks in advance and have pretty big store credit prizes (the first place one is 200 USD), and I've entered a few times, but I don't vote often because Spoonflower is such a huge site that there are frequently over a thousand entries and it's really time consuming to scroll through them all.
Ok, that's everything I can think of! I also put all my patterns on sone things on Redbubble, since they have options for repeating patterns on some things.
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crevicedwelling · 11 months
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do you know any cool moth facts? i totally understand if not, i just wanna get over my phobia by noticing how cool they r ^_^
thanks ! have a good day
“moths” is a huge category of animals, so if you were asking for cool adaptations in particular species you’ll have to be more specific because it’s impossible for me to know where to start!
but a few general moth facts:
moths have been around a long time, and some basal types still exist that have mandibles (like the usual bug mouthparts you see in beetles/ants) instead of a tube proboscis for drinking nectar like most of the big moths you see. these moths are all super tiny and mostly eat pollen.
Moth - Plain Gold - 4-5mm
flickr
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as you can see from this phylogenetic tree, butterflies are moths! or rather “butterfly” is just the English word for a particular group of diurnal Lepidoptera, sort of like how birds are a particular group of dinosaurs (but it’s not common to refer to them as such outside of taxonomy or a joke)
most moths are nectar-feeders, but others feed on decaying fruit, tree sap, or honeydew, and silkmoths and many hawkmoths do not feed at all as adults, relying on larval fat reserves to power them through their brief adult lives
there are numerous diurnal moths, beyond just the butterflies. family Uraniidae are some of the most dramatic:
Swallowtail Moth, Urania fulgens, Uraniidae
flickr
moths have some of my favorite mimicry examples of any group of insects:
many moths mimic bird poop (birds aren’t likely to look for meals out of their own poop!) but Macrocilix maia takes it a step further and has patches of colored scales that look exactly like red-eyed, shiny-winged flies eating the bird poop!
Macrocilix maia (3)
flickr
a number of tiny moths’ wings mimic jumping spiders, which might seem an odd choice until you realize that jumping spiders—predators of these moths—have excellent facial recognition. even if the jumpers would eat another spider, the oOOo pattern tricks them into thinking their that spider is looking right at them, and can’t be taken by surprise.
_Z2A8389 jumping spider mimic moth
flickr
phylotree from: https://www.pnas.org/doi/10.1073/pnas.1907847116
moth enthusiasts: feel free to add cool moth facts if you’d like!
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a-dinosaur-a-day · 1 year
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The Birdcage
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Jurassic Park: It's Ironic, by Meig of A-Dinosaur-A-Day
What follows is a retelling of the Jurassic Park story, mainly based on the 1993 film, with portions of the original novel used to supplement the story. The main point of divergence occurs when the park is unable to find workable nonavian dinosaur genetic material for cloning, since - as in the real world - dna degrades much too rapidly. Instead, the park consists only of extinct dinosaurs that can be brought back - birds from the last 2.5 million years. What happens after that is, as Ian Malcolm would say, an emerging pattern.
Thanks to beta readers @plokool, @killdeercheer, and @otussketching! Thanks to logo artist @i-draws-dinosaurs for the killer logo! Happy 30th anniversary of the Jurassic Park film!
Fic Chapter Masterpost
Prologue: The Peck of the Raptor
Robert Muldoon had seen much in his forty-odd years on planet earth. A pride of lions tearing into the carcass of a giraffe. An elephant kicking an African leopard into the air. A swarm of hyenas attempting to hunt the wildebeest, only to flee in panic from their hooves. Nile Crocodiles and Hippos fighting over river space, with no obvious winners. Wild dogs hunting him, with coordination and planning he wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Indeed, if someone were to have asked Robert Muldoon if he had seen everything nature had to offer, he would be tempted to say yes.
At least, until today.  
It was a simple transfer operation. Take the new asset from the hatchery complex to their permanent enclosure. Introduce them to their new flock members. Try to not drown in the torrential rain, to hear each other over the violent wind. Remember that humans are warm-blooded and no matter how much the rain soaked to the bone, warmth would return. Go home in time for dinner.
The thought now, of course, made Muldoon snort out loud, though of course no one could hear him. Flock was the moniker the higher-ups had chosen, ages ago, but he knew flocks. This was no flock. Better, really, to call this grouping a pack. Not that it mattered. After this, Muldoon was certain of his course of action.
He had to recommend termination.
Everything had happened so fast. The loud calls of the other assets, anxious for their flock member far away. The container, raised to the pen entrance. Locked in, safety verified. The animal was silent, but they usually were during transfer. Muldoon had chalked it up to fear or hesitancy, though it was odd that it wasn’t calling back to the others. All workers were in their proper positions, so he called for the gate to be raised. And then, before he could register any of it, the asset had rocked against the container, shaking it loose. It managed to reach out, grab onto Jophery’s hand – the scream chilled Muldoon down to the marrow – and suddenly there was no more Jophery, apart from his second hand, grabbing for dear life to the side of the container. On instinct, Muldoon grabbed his hand, and pulled as hard as he could. Jophrey was still screaming, the other workers were shouting and scampering, alarms were blaring from the cage, a gun or two going off pointlessly. The asset, still, remained silent. It didn’t even bite, or claw, or crunch, or tear.
All it had to do was peck – at the temporal artery
Peck again – at the leg – near the femoral –
Peck again – on the neck – blood was everywhere –
A final peck, Muldoon couldn’t even see where, there were feathers and limbs and blood and screams and –
Jophery went still.
Only a few more seconds, and the asset was also down, multiple tranq darts sticking out of various places. Muldoon hadn’t even had a chance to insist on lethal ammunition, but there was no point now. The asset was neutralized. No one was in immediate danger. The alarms were still blaring, and Muldoon was starting to lose his hearing from it, as loud as it was in his ears. But he couldn’t undo Jophery’s grip – it had been so strong; it didn’t even need rigor mortis to lock in – and he found that the slippery blood oozing from Jophery’s neck and face down the arm weren’t helping matters. But Muldoon had been hired for this position for a reason – a few, actually – and he managed to take a deep breath, grit his teeth, and remove the hand from his.
Now he was walking, slowly, to his employer’s office, tracking mud and rain and blood down the hall with him. People were running, talking in hushed whispers, angrily arguing. He didn’t much care for these lab rats who never entered the tropical sun, never mind interacted with the very things they were working on. Even now, when their concerns should be one and the same, he heard mentions of rehabilitation, modification, and genetic integrity – worries from individuals who did not have blood on their hands refusing to dry in the humid air. So antiseptic they had removed their own humanity.
Muldoon couldn’t wait any longer. The image of Jophrey’s clouded eyes hung in his mind as he shouted into the hallway.
“HAMMOND.”
Ray Arnold stuck his head out from the control room, eyebrows raised over the rims of his glasses. “Hammond isn’t here. Shouldn’t you be getting cleaned up?”
“We have to shut it down.”
Arnold sighed, “You know he won’t do that, Robert.”
“This is the third worker.”
“Yes, but –“
“Third. If you think officials across the water will ignore it at this point, you’re out of your god-damned mind.”
“People die on construction projects, Rob. All the time, in fact.”
“Their corpses don’t usually come back littered with peck marks.”
“We’ve managed all crises up to this point. Hammond insists on moving forward with this asset.”
“All because his impossible pet project didn’t work out, we have to insist on these uncooperative, murder-minded –“
“They’re no more murder minded than a lion or a wolf.”
“Says someone who has never interacted with any of them.”
Arnold sighed, fidgeting with his tie. Muldoon had moved to face him directly, but Arnold continued to look at his computer screen, the lines of code reflected in his glasses.
“I’ll talk to Hammond. If we can’t even get them in the enclosure, maybe it is time to pull the plug.”
“Finally,” Muldoon spat out, “Thank you.”
“Uh-huh.” But Arnold was already back at his computer, not even facing his torso towards Muldoon. So Robert turned and walked back, through the hallway, muddy bloody footprints showing his short journey down the hall and back.
It was time to call up another family.
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vickysaurus-art · 9 months
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One paleoart for each period since the Cryogenian
Thanks to the timeline on my walls that I've been trying to fill in with my art, I have now reached the point where I've done paleoart for every single period of the Phanerozoic, plus the Ediacaran and Cryogenian! That is to say, every period of the last 700 million years. So with that milestone, I thought it'd be fun to go through those periods in order and show off one paleoart of mine for each!
Cryogenian
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In the Cryogenian, the Earth completely froze over. Twice! Life wasn't much to look at yet, but I enjoyed drawing what our planet might have looked like at the time. The girdle of lakes at the left is the equator, which may have had ice-free patches.
Ediacaran
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When the ice retreated, animals first began to blossom into their endless forms most beautiful. Ediacaran life was strange and quite unlike the creatures that would come later, but it was nonetheless an incredibly important chapter in life's history. Here we see the Ediacaran weirdos washing up on shore after a storm.
Cambrian
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The Cambrian explosion brought much more recognisable creatures. But one thing that's easy to miss is that they were all tiny! All of them? No, Anomalocaris was, with a length of about 40 cm, the dragon of the Cambrian.
Ordovician
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Life continued to diversify in the Ordovician, and among this diversity were the cephalopods. They produced the largest animals yet to exist, the orthocones, who hung vertically in the water column and decended upon their prey like a claw game.
Silurian
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Although fungi and bacteria had already made forays onto the land deep in the past, things began to get busier there in the Silurian. But these horseshoe crabs, and their larger cousins the sea scorpions, have not come to the shore to stay, but to mate and lay eggs. Unfortunately for the horseshoe crabs, they have come to the very same shore.
Devonian
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Our own vertebrate ancestors, like Tiktaalik, were pretty late to the party, only taking their first steps on land in the late Devonian. That's no knock against them - there was plenty to do underwater! This Tiktaalik is busy guarding his eggs while his mate is busy hunting, for example. Who has time to step on land?
Carboniferous
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The end of the Carboniferous saw some quite large bugs, like these two Mazothairos chasing off an interloping Meganeura. They're representatives of a pretty interesting group of basal insects called the Palaeodictyoptera, who have a set of weird little extra wings on their thorax.
Permian
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Among the many fantastic creatures of the Permian were our own cousins, the synapsids, like these lovey-dovey Moschops. As you can see, this picture and the previous one are done in coloured pencils instead of watercolour, because they're the oldest images I'm including in this post. I only very rarely used watercolours before this year. I think it means I should do some more Permian art, it's such a cool and underexposed period.
Triassic
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One mass extinction later, the archosaurs are diversifying all over Triassic Pangaea. Here we have the three main groups of them: Paratypothorax, a pseudosuchian in the background; Peteinosaurus, a pterosaur on top of the cliff; and Procompsognathus, a dinosaur climbing the cliff.
Jurassic
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I had three different option for Jurassic paleoart to showcase, so I picked the most experimental one. These backlit insects are not butterflies, but kalligrammatids, a group of large-winged neuroptera, some of which even mimicked maniraptoran dinosaurs like this iridescent Caihong with their patterns.
Cretaceous
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The Cretaceous featured some of life's most gorgeous crescendos of diversity, like the Yixian formation, where a Psitaccosaurus wants to visit the favourite tree of a group of Sinosauropteryxes, who are having none of it. This is still one of my favourite pieces I've ever drawn.
Paleogene
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The Paleogene featured some of the highest global temperatures of all time, leading to tropical climates all over the planet, including at this lake in what will one day be Messel, Germany. Darwinius, a close cousin to our own ancestors, is having a staredown with the lizard Geiseltaliellus.
Neogene
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The world turned colder and dryer in the Neogene, leading to the spread of large grasslands, like these South American ones. Phorusracos, a large terror bird, has caught a Thoatherium on the edge of the forest they both live in. South America was an isolated continent for the duration of the Neogene, leading to a quite unique fauna.
Quaternary
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The Quaternary, our current period, is marked by the cycle of ice ages regularly freezing the northern hemisphere. But even during the ice ages, spring would come to the mammoth steppes, and these steppe mammoths are happy to celebrate its coming with a bath in the river.
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elliesmainhoe · 1 year
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Ellie Williams Headcanons: HouseWife!Reader
My Masterlist
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Ellie loved providing for you.
She took on all these gnarly tasks, patrols, dealing with trespassers and infected, do people always traded her the best of the best.
She loved coming home to you after a long day of patrol.
Loved seeing you sway to the radio in the pastel pink apron she'd found for you, humming along with the tune while you stirred your pot of stew that sat idly on the stove.
Enjoyed how pretty you were, loved looking at your pristine clothes, perfectly done up hair and simple makeup.
You were her certified arm candy. Ellie, always wearing dirty jeans an old ripped top and muck on her face she hadn't washed off yet, with you on her arm.
It's so funny to look at lmao
Tries to make you smoke a joint with her one night. You practically coughed your lungs up, did not go well.
She loves having baths with you. You often suprise her with a tub of foamy water, rose petals floating in the water and lit scented candles scattered around.
"Ellie!! Your home!!!" You squealed happily, rushing over and flinging yourself into her arms, throwing her a bit off balance before she could even close the front door.
"Yeah hi baby" she spoke, trying to steady herself and leaning down to press a brief kiss on your forehead.
"Come, come. I have a suprise for you~~~" you hummed happily tugging her along hand in hand up the carpeted stairs.
The bathroom door was still ajar, steam flooding out onto the landing. Her tight muscles relaxed immediately as the wave of warm air pushed against her rigid body.
"Ugh your such a sweetheart" she cooed, a stupid smile on her face.
"Mhm, I know", you giggle back at her and start stripping of the small floral patterned skirt that hung prettily against your frame and getting into the hot soapy water.
Your favourite thing is baking. You trade small baked confectioneries and pastries at your own stall. You loved making requests from children.
Dinosaur cookie?done. Astronaut themed cupcake? Absolutely.
You help at around the day care and elementary school, painting and reading with the toddlers.
You loved kids, and you really wanted your own. But due to yours and Ellie's situation you couldn't physically reproduce.
And that's why, the day that Ellie found an abandoned infant outside Jackson's walls while on patrol, you immediately took him under your wing.
When that little boy came into your life you whole perspective of the world changed.
The world was dangerous, Ellie would have to teach him to protect himself.
And you? You would have to be a mother. So many children grew up unnurtured and without maternal love. You could let that happen to your baby boy.
--------
Inspired by the one and only @elskittie ❤️
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And omg thank you so much for 200 followers. I started this blog five days ago. That is seriously insane. I love you guys so much 😭😭
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television-overload · 4 months
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chance encounter
an X-Files Fanfic
Read on AO3
Summary: "Six months after becoming fugitives from the US government, Mulder and Scully have a chance encounter with someone that is very important to them."
Word Count: 6,556
Tag List (let me know if you want taken off or added!): @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @mulderscully @perpetually-weirdening @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson
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It was him.
There was no way to explain how he knew, but he did.
The little baby sitting in the puddle deep water at the end of the pool was William.
His hands, still chubby like they had been in his infancy, splashed excitedly, and Mulder could hear his squeals of delight over the sounds of the other children playing. An electric yellow swim shirt paired with a dinosaur-patterned bucket hat kept him shielded from the hot California sun, and he wore striped yellow and blue swimming trunks.
Mulder thought he'd never seen a swimsuit so small.
What were the odds that of all the places they could have traveled to, he was here?
They'd been on the road for 6 months, stopping at unremarkable motels and campgrounds all the way, never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time. It was a fluke they were even here at all.
Perhaps fate.
The hotel was certainly a step up from their usual accommodations, but Mulder had insisted. It was their anniversary, he said. Anniversary of what, Scully wasn't sure. The progression from coworkers to friends to lovers happened so gradually that it was hard to pin down a particularly important date for anything. But he wanted to celebrate, to find a brief reprieve from living in darkness, so they splurged a little on this modest, if slightly run-down, hotel by the ocean.
Where their son and his new family just happened to be vacationing.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this possibility. In those nights where Scully was extra quiet, eager to fall asleep at the end of a long day, of course he'd lay awake and think, what if.
What if we found him? What if we saw our son again? What would we do?
The idea was so far-fetched that he hardly gave it any real consideration. His thoughts ranged from “steal him back, take him with us” to “pretend you never saw him and flee town.”
The urge to do the latter was strong. It was not safe here. They'd given him up for this very reason, what would be the point if their being here got him injured or worse? Was it really worth the risk to William? To Scully?
His next thought was 'Should I tell her?' Should he tell Scully he'd seen him? Would she want to see him too, even if from a distance?
The loss of their son had broken her heart. Broken his too, but not in the same way. She had spent months with him, almost a year, only to be forced to give him away with little time to prepare.
He knew she felt the loss like a phantom limb. Even all these months later, she still awoke with his name on her lips, panic written on her face as she looked around for him. It drove a stake through his heart every time, yet part of him felt he deserved it after leaving her to deal with it herself.
He watched the boy.
He'd only come out here to enjoy the sun, sit on one of the loungers for an hour or so while Scully took a nap in their room. It was a much more comfortable bed than they've had in a long time, though that wasn't saying much.
He hadn't bargained on having his whole world tipped upside down in the short time they were apart.
As stressful as it was, life on the road lended itself to relatively simple decisions. Fast food or canned? Motel or campground? Will you drive, or should I?
This was different.
Should he tell Scully?
The thought of keeping this from her made him feel sick. He couldn't do that.
Then again, would it hurt more to know? Ignorance is bliss, they say.
Mulder had never believed that, though.
The Truth, with a capital T, was the one thing that connected him and Scully. Though their beliefs and methods differed, they valued the Truth above all else. That was what drew them together. That was what propelled them forward, even now.
She had to know. She had to know her son was here, even if knowing might hurt.
She could make the decision for herself, whether she wanted to see him or get as far away from here as possible. It might be the last decision she makes as a mother, who would he be to keep that from her?
She might never forgive him.
Swallowing back emotion, Mulder stood to his feet, trying not to draw attention to himself as he made his retreat. His sunglasses thankfully hid the redness of his eyes, a small mercy in this endlessly unfair life.
He stole one last glance back at William. There was a chance this was the last time he'd ever see his son, his baby boy. If this was it, he'd treasure this moment for the rest of his life.
A woman dropped down beside William, showing him how to cup the water in his hands and throw it.
'A quick learner,' Mulder thought, watching as he gleefully tossed small handfuls of water in the air, giggling as it rained back down on him.
Okay. He could do this.
Find Scully. Tell Scully. Find Scully.
He rushed into the moldy-smelling hallway of the hotel, not bothering to take the elevator up to their floor. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, finding himself out of breath by the time he reached the 4th floor.
He nodded politely at a passing family decked out in beach gear, not wanting to draw suspicion. Once they were gone, he gave a quick rhythmic knock on the door to let Scully know it was him, then slipped his key card into the slot to unlock it.
The room was still dark, the curtains drawn tight to block out the midday sun, and he could hear soft breaths coming from the lump on the bed.
His heart twisted involuntarily as it so often did when he looked at her.
“Scully,” he whispered, approaching the bed. “Honey, wake up.” He settled on the side of the bed, placing a gentle hand atop her shoulder and jostling her just so.
“Mm,” she hummed, curling into her pillow. A good nap, then. That was nice, at least.
He shook her again, saying her name a little louder. “Scully, you need to get up.”
This time her eyes opened, sensing the serious undertone to his words. He could tell she was waiting for bad news, for him to tell her they needed to leave again. Wanting to put her worries at ease, he tried to smile.
“What is it?” she asked, blinking at him in confusion.
“Uh—” he hadn't gotten this far in planning what to say. But she was waiting for him now, so he needed to say something quick. “Scully, I saw some people outside...”
“Government people?” she asked, sitting up suddenly, ready to start packing.
“No, not the government,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders soothingly. “Scully—it's William.”
He could see the moment his words hit her. She blinked, like she might think she was still dreaming, but she saw the truth in his eyes. Her expression shifted.
He wasn't sure what reaction he expected, but his first guess wouldn't have been anger.
“Did you know he would be here?” she asked, her voice laced with hurt and betrayal. “Mulder, I told you not to look into it! Why—Why would you...”
“I didn't know,” he promised, begging the tears in his eyes to keep from falling. He clasped her hands in his, pulling them from their grip on the fabric of his shirt. “Scully, I swear I didn't know. I was just out at the pool, and—”
“You're sure it's him?”
His heart broke looking at her. Equal parts hope and dread, she didn't deserve this.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.”
She let out a shuddering breath.
“What do you think about that coincidence, huh?” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.
She shook her head.
“Mulder, we can't see him. It's not safe, it's not—”
“I know.” He didn't like interrupting her, but he didn't want her worrying unnecessarily about things she shouldn't. They had enough of that already, these days. If she didn’t think it was a good idea, he’d be okay with that. “We can leave, if you want. I just thought you should know.”
Her blue eyes met his, brimming with unshed tears.
“Is—Is he…?”
“He's beautiful, Scully,” Mulder answered her unspoken question. “He looks happy.”
She choked out a sob, and he immediately enveloped her in his arms, holding onto her tightly. She clutched at him like a life raft, and he ran his hand over her back in comforting circles, murmuring soft words into her ear.
“What do you want to do?” Mulder asked, knowing that time was ticking, and the little family might not stay out there much longer.
Scully sniffed.
“We could—we could go see him,” she said uncertainly, looking at him to decipher his thoughts on the matter. “From a distance.”
Mulder nodded, then stood, helping her to her feet.
“I'm with you,” he reminded her, grasping her hands tightly in his. “It'll be okay.”
With an arm slung around her shoulders, he led her out the door, this time opting to take the elevator down to the ground floor. Scully seemed nervous, almost frightened, and he didn't blame her. He tried to picture how he would feel if their positions were switched, and he couldn't imagine that he'd take it very well. Eventually, they reached the glass doors leading out to the outdoor pool, pausing for a moment.
“They can't see us,” Scully warned, looking anxious and ready to bolt, but she was glued to his side and scarcely able to move without his guidance. He nodded and took her hand, leading her out to a couple chairs in the corner, hopefully obscured enough by the shadow of the fence that they wouldn’t be seen. That bright neon shirt was still there, easy to spot, and Mulder felt tears rising to his throat again. This was the first time they had all three been in the same vicinity since those first few days when he was born.
He squeezed her hand, checking one last time to make sure she was okay. She searched his eyes, trusting him wholeheartedly, and he was certain he had never loved her more.
“Over there,” he said in a low whisper. “With the little hat on.”
Scully followed his line of sight, gasping when her eyes settled on the playful baby in the water.
What followed next was a sob, and he quickly lost his battle with the tears that stubbornly refused to go away. He wrapped his arms around Scully, offering her what solace he could, while his own chin wobbled miserably.
She alternated between sneaking glances at her son and crying into his shirt collar, muttering “Mulder,” desperately as he rocked her back and forth, his hand smoothing out her hair for her comfort as much as his own.
He couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing her like that... it made it hard to stay strong, but he needed to be. For her. He closed his eyes, pleading with the universe never to give her this kind of pain ever again.
When he opened them again, his stomach dropped to the floor.
The woman he'd seen earlier was looking at them, her eyebrows pinched in concern.
He cursed under his breath, his arms tightening around Scully. She was in no state to leave. The best they could do was avoid eye contact and keep to themselves.
But it looked like that wouldn't be enough.
The woman, William's adoptive mother, whispered something to the man she was with, nodding in their direction. His concerned face matched hers, and he nodded. With a sickening lurch, Mulder realized she was getting out of the water, wrapping herself in a towel and heading toward them.
It was too late. They'd been made.
“Scully,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice. She only had a moment's warning before the woman was there, glancing down at them with a worried frown.
“Is she alright?” William's mother asked, empathy oozing from her.
Mulder hurried to compose himself, knowing Scully was a lost cause at this point. It would be on him to get them out of this.
“She's fine, sorry,” he managed to speak, wracking his brain for a believable excuse. Best to stick close to the truth. “We—We can't have children, so—” he nodded toward their son, hoping she could fill in the blanks.
Looking behind her at the boy in the water, her face eased into one of understanding.
“Oh, I know how that feels,” she said, smiling consolingly. “Our son over there is adopted. Every day we thank God for blessing us with him. He's our little miracle.”
Scully grips him tighter, barely restraining a mournful wail. His heart sinks, knowing this interaction isn't going well at all.
He presses a desperate kiss to her hair, wishing he'd never exposed her to this pain. Wishing they were alone in the confines of their hotel room or car so she could let it all out without arousing suspicion. Wishing this woman, as kind-hearted and friendly as she seemed to be, would leave them alone.
“Are you sure she's okay?” she asked Mulder, brows furrowing again.
His hand rubbed up and down Scully's shoulder, and he nodded. “She will be. This is—hard for her.”
“Okay,” the woman said, not sounding fully convinced. “Let me know if there's anything I can do. Like I said, I've been where she is.”
“Thank you,” Mulder choked out, eyes flitting about, looking for their escape.
Through the gate. Through the hotel. Down to the beach.
“Oh, sorry,” William's mother spoke, turning back instead of leaving. “I never introduced myself. My name is—”
“No!” Scully stopped her, looking suddenly panicked and alert.
The woman startled at the outburst, jumping back slightly.
“Mulder, we can't know,” Scully said, looking pleadingly at him. “We can't know anything, we can't!”
“It's okay,” he said softly, coaxing her back from the edges of a total breakdown. “It's okay.” He looked back up at William's mom, smiling an unconvincing smile. “I think we'd really better get going. It was nice talking to you,” he said as he helped Scully to her feet. “Come on, hon, back to our room.”
It was hard to move quickly with Scully desperately clinging to him, but it wasn't the first time they'd been in this position. Once they got back inside, he'd run her a nice warm bath and apologize over and over for everything he'd ever done to hurt her.
They just. Had to. Get. Through—
“Wait.”
He froze.
“You're—You're his parents, aren't you? The ones who gave him up?”
Ice water filled his veins. He could feel Scully shaking like a leaf under his arm.
“We really should be going—” he tried, refusing to turn back around.
Her voice was closer now. “You are. I—there's so many things I've wished I could ask you. At least let me thank you. Please.”
Against his better judgement, he risked a glance back.
“Mulder, we have to go,” Scully begged, now standing on her own and pulling him by the hand. His feet were rooted to the ground, unable to take a single step forward or back.
“Just wait a minute, Scully,” he said, his brain running a mile a minute to calculate the amount of danger each potential course of action held.
He met the woman's eyes, serious.
“Look, this is not easy for her. For us. Our situation right now is—” his eyes scanned around for anything out of place, “We—We really shouldn't be talking to you.”
The woman stepped closer still, a pleading expression on her face.
“It was a closed adoption, I know. But—”
“I'm sorry. We can't.”
Scully looked exhausted, frightened, and sick all at once. Every second they stood there chipped away at her, the anxiety sinking deeper and deeper into her skin.
“You're right about one thing,” Mulder conceded, glancing over at his son and drinking in his unconcerned, innocent features.
The next words nearly choked him with sorrow.
“He is a miracle.”
They were meant to be parting words, a reminder to this woman to never take what she has for granted, but before he could move, a hand landed on his forearm, effectively stopping him.
“We'll let you see him,” the woman offered desperately, near tears herself. “Please. Just a few moments.”
And with that on the table, Mulder was torn.
On the one hand, this woman had offered them something invaluable: a chance to say goodbye, something they hadn't been able to do properly the first time.
On the other hand, it would be selfish. To put their son and his new family in danger simply because they got caught in a moment of weakness... it was unfathomable. He couldn't be responsible for more suffering. He didn't think he could bear it.
“Please?” the woman said again, squeezing his arm.
He had a decision to make. Glancing once more at Scully's crumpled face, he caught sight of the slightest hint of hope. A barely-there gleam that he'd tear down earth and heaven for the chance to brighten.
His decision was made for him.
Cursing his lack of willpower, he turned suddenly to meet the woman's eyes.
“Not here,” he whispered sternly, pointing in her direction. “Give us half an hour, then come to room 409.”
“409,” the woman repeated, nodding. “We will.”
Mulder hardened his jaw, giving one final nod before collecting Scully and hurrying off into the building without another glance back.
“This is dangerous, Mulder,” Scully said worriedly as they passed through the hall, though he knew deep down she was relieved that she might get to see her son again. He only hoped that this risk would be worth it, that they'd be able to find some semblance of peace here and leave feeling less like a part of them was missing when all this was over.
As soon as they entered their room, Scully broke down.
“Oh my god, Mulder,” she gasped, crouching low to the ground and covering her face with her hands.
He immediately dropped to his knees to help her up, ushering her over to their bed.
“Did you see him? He's gotten so big.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, a mix of happy and sad, and though he'd known Scully and her nonverbal cues for so long, he still wasn't quite sure what she needed right now.
“Yeah, I saw him, Scully,” he answered, pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently.
“Do you think they'll really come?” she asked, hopeful, but hesitant.
“We need to be prepared in case they don't,” he answered realistically, thinking of an entire squad of police cars surrounding the hotel with their flashing lights and sirens. “I can pack up the toiletries, you got the suitcase?”
She nodded, grateful to have something physical to do.
Mulder checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes. If they didn't come in twenty-five minutes, it was time to get out of dodge.
“I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips. “I love you, Scully.”
“I love you too,” she answered, breathing deeply to calm herself. Checking one last time to make sure she was okay, he nodded and released her, each to their own assignments to ensure they were ready to make a quick escape if need be.
As the minutes passed, they became restless. They watched the clock, counting down the seconds until they should have arrived.
Their cutoff time came and went. Mulder was about to call it and give the signal to run, already gathering bags and suitcases, but the subtle knock on their door stopped him in his tracks. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing for Scully to stay quiet while he checked the peep hole.
The sight before him caused his shoulders to slump in relief.
“It's them?” Scully asked hopefully, reading his body language.
He gave a cautious smile back, then unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.
There they were, William’s adoptive parents.
And William.
It nearly took his breath away. 
This close. They were this close to him, after thinking they’d never see him again. He felt like a dehydrated man in a desert stumbling upon an oasis when he was sure he was going to die.
“Hi,” the woman said, looking more uncertain now that they weren’t out in the open. Her husband looked similarly guarded, but they were here, that was all that mattered.
“Uh, come in,” Mulder said, finding his voice.
He stepped aside to allow them entrance, and Scully immediately stood from her seat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in front of her.
“I promise we’re not here to take him,” he assured them, closing the door behind them. “As much as we wish we could.”
Once the door was secure, he went to stand by Scully, placing a hand on her back.
“We were just passing through, I couldn’t believe it when I saw him sitting there in the pool.”
The woman nodded, still a little tense, but wanting to believe him.
“Small world,” her husband said, standing protectively next to his wife and child.
Mulder nodded.
“Look, there’s not much information we can give you. For his safety and yours, this is the way it had to be.”
“I always wondered where he came from,” the woman said. “I thought maybe a teen mom, or someone who just couldn't take care of him, but, you—”
“He was always wanted,” Scully spoke, finally able to speak for herself. Her voice came out strained, gasping for air between words. “I prayed for him for so long.”
Mulder's hand found hers, giving it a squeeze to lend her some of his strength.
“He was our miracle.”
The woman looked down, saddened by this news.
“But you were right,” Scully continued, steadying her voice. “We couldn't take care of him. Our life—it isn't stable enough for a child right now. It might never be again. So, I gave him up.”
“Didn't you have a family member who could have taken him? A friend?” the man asked. “Why a closed adoption?”
Scully shook her head, looking down at her feet. How she had wished she could have sent William to live with Bill and Tara, maybe even Charlie. But it wouldn’t have been enough. It would have only endangered more people she cared about.
“That's something we can't disclose,” Mulder answered for her. “But someday, when he asks, I want him to know...” He breathed, summoning the strength to form the words. “I want him to know that we loved him... so much.” With each breath he took, tears filled his eyes, clogging his throat until he wasn't able to speak anymore.
They would always love him, for as long as they lived. Giving him up wasn't going to change that.
“Well,” William's new mom said through tear filled eyes. “I can't tell you how much it means to us to have him.” Scully bowed her head, nodding along with a steady stream of tears. “I promise to take good care of him. He'll be safe and happy with us.”
“Thank you,” Scully whispered, unable to look the man and woman in the eyes.
“We've been worried about him,” Mulder admitted, “hoping he was alright...” He checked in with Scully, reading her like he was so good at doing, before deciding it was safe to speak for them both. “I think, seeing that he is... is a huge weight lifted off our shoulders.”
Scully gave a nod in agreement, looking up at Mulder with something of a promise. A promise that they would be okay, eventually.
“I can't imagine what you must have gone through,” the woman said. “But we are so thankful. He—I don't suppose you want to know his name?”
“No,” Scully said quickly. “I—we can't. I couldn't handle the temptation.”
The temptation to track him down, just for the chance to see him again.  That was a dream that could never be.
“What did you call him?” the woman asked, and Mulder squeezed Scully's hand again, letting her know it was okay. It was a common enough name, there couldn’t be any harm in telling her the truth.
“William,” she answered. “His name was William.”
To hear it spoken aloud after all this time was a relief. It had been almost taboo the past six months, too painful a word to be uttered. But now, there was something freeing about letting his name hang in the air.
Letting go, Mulder realized. They had to let him go.
“Well...” the woman began again, smiling at them reassuringly. “William is such a bright and curious child. He loves building towers out of blocks and throwing things at it to knock it down. He—He has this stuffed fox he takes everywhere. They're practically inseparable. His first word was 'mama'. He likes watching baseball and hockey with his dad. He—He's everything we could have hoped for, and more. So, thank you. Thank you for making such a beautiful child for us to love.” Her eyes shone with happiness, the kind which Scully wondered if she’d ever felt. “I knew you had to be remarkable people, because he's a remarkable child.”
“And now we know where he gets those lips and that hair from,” the father added, lightening the mood as much as possible, under the circumstances. “He's covered in sunscreen, must be your genes,” he said, nodding at Scully with a smile. And wonder of wonders, she laughed, a sudden, unexpected thing, and leaned into Mulder's side.
“We should let you go,” Mulder said after a moment, hating that it had to be done. “We'll need to be heading out soon.”
“To where?”
“We can't tell you that.”
Will's adoptive father's eyes met those of his biological one, and a look of understanding passed between them.
Adjusting her hold on William, the woman spoke, glancing between them as she did.
“I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you a moment with him.”
Scully's head snapped to attention.
“You've already sacrificed so much,” she continued, “And I trust you. You're doing what's best for—for William. I know you have his best interests at heart.”
Mulder wished, wished, wished he could honestly say it was in William's best interests to be with him and Scully... but it wasn't. The truth of their reality was such that it could never be. Not through any fault of their own as parents—but because of external forces working against them, desperate to tear them apart and leave them with nothing.
But they had failed.
Because what they had was more than nothing. They had each other. And though they would have to live with the knowledge that a part of them was missing, maybe after today they would be able to make peace with what they do have. To live life to the fullest given the circumstances they've been forced to survive in.
In truth, he hadn't felt this hopeful about the future since the moment Scully first placed his son in his arms. There was still a mountain of hardships to surmount, but it didn't seem quite as impossible as before. And it was all thanks to a chance encounter with their son, at the precise moment they needed him most.
“We'll leave you be,” Will's mother spoke, checking with her husband to make sure he agreed. “If you need us, we'll be downstairs having some coffee.”
Scully's brows slanted in worry. “You don't have to go, it's okay,” she said, wanting to stop them.
“You deserve some time alone,” the woman said kindly, shaking her head. “I can see how much you need it, dear.”
Scully's chin wobbled, dangerously close to another round of tears.
And then she was coming toward them, William perched on her hip. She deposited him right into Scully's disbelieving arms, and Mulder immediately felt his throat close, the sight one he'd seen almost every night in the most heart wrenching of his dreams.
This was what he'd hoped to come home to after his time in the desert. This was what kept him sane between bouts of torture in a prison cell. To see it now was equal parts fulfilling and painful.
“I can give you something, a guarantee we won't run off with him,” he choked out, working to free his wrist from his moderately expensive watch. William's dad reached a hand out and stopped him.
“We trust you,” he said with a sad smile. “We'll be back in an hour. Please, take all the time you need.”
And with that, they left the room.
As soon as they were gone, Scully's head dropped to rest against the strawberry blond locks of their son, and she let out a sob.
“William,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his head. He seemed unfazed, and part of Mulder wondered if he still remembered her. If deep down, he knew this was the woman who had once fed him from her own body, sung him to sleep in an off-tune melody, soothed him when he had nightmares...
It wasn't outside the realm of possibility.
The same couldn't be said for him, however.
“I can't believe this, Mulder,” Scully cried, her tears falling into his downy-soft hair. Mulder led her back to the bed, sitting beside her with their son on her lap. “Did you hear what they said? He's so much like you, watching sports on TV, knocking his blocks down... He'll be throwing pencils at the ceiling in no time.”
That brought a small smile to his face, and he leaned to his right to press a kiss to Scully's forehead, his hand falling into place on their son's back.
William leaned away, taking in the new faces with a curious tilt to his head.
“Hey, bud,” Mulder said, offering him a finger to hold. For all the time he'd spent thinking of what he'd say to his kid if given the chance, he was coming up short now that he was face-to-face with the reality. “I missed you so much,” he managed to say, “And look how much you've grown!”
William reached out, holding his hands up in front of him, and Mulder's heart leapt. Glancing at Scully for permission, he slid his hands under his arms, lifting him to his chest and nuzzling him close.
“Oh, Scully,” he said, beginning to cry again, feeling the weight of William on his chest, real and tangible. “Sometimes I thought it was all a dream. But we have a son.”
It was hard to think of him out in the world, when he was hardly more than an idea. But now—he had face to put to the name, a personality to remember. He had a son.
She nodded, watching them with a watery smile. He pulled back just to look at him again, to memorize those chubby cheeks and the way he smelled. The precise shape of his eyes, their color, still the same as his mother's.
“I'm so glad we stayed here, Mulder,” Scully whispered. “To think I tried to talk you out of it...”
“Fate was working its magic, Scully,” he said, cutting her off. “This was meant to be.”
For the next hour, they played on the floor together, using Mulder's keys as a toy to hold William's attention. He was walking now, and took turns toddling between them, excitedly holding the TV remote in one hand and squealing when they praised him for successfully making it without tripping or falling.
For a while, they could almost forget this wasn't real. That they weren’t on borrowed time, already risking things they shouldn't be for this blissful moment of being a family.
Mulder got to see Scully as a mother. She saw him as a father. Finally, they had the chance to step into those roles, feeling fulfilled in ways they never could have imagined. It went far beyond any truth that once lay hidden in the X-Files. Nothing in that office of theirs could have given them purpose like this. Only each other, and the life that was formed out of the love that was sparked right there in the basement of the Hoover building so many years ago.
Mulder had always wondered how it would sound to hear the words “da da da” come from a child's mouth, and to know they meant him. Though his babbling wasn't intentional, merely a repetition of the same syllables “da” and “ma” over and over again, he was soaking it in. Committing it to memory. Praying—because only something like this could drive a man like him to prayer—that his son would think about him. Would think about his mother. That he'd grow to know and understand and appreciate the heartache they suffered at giving him away.
That maybe he'd love them too, despite never knowing them.
And maybe.
Maybe.
One day, they'd see each other again.
It was getting late. Scully could tell it was past William's bedtime. She laid him on their bed, and laid down beside him on her stomach, content just to look at him and be near him for however much time they had left.
Mulder joined her on the other side, resting a hand on top of William's gently rising and falling belly.
“I love him more than I ever knew was possible,” he whispered, and noticed as Scully wiped away a tear.
“It hurts, knowing we have to say goodbye.”
Mulder nodded, reaching a hand over William to rub circles on Scully's back.
“But not as much as it hurt before.”
Mulder remembered how Scully screamed, when he first found her in that dirty, abandoned house in Georgia.
“Don't take my baby. Please don't take my baby.”
It was different now.
This time, it was on their own terms. Their curiosities were satisfied, the things they always would have wondered about.
Who he resembled more. What his voice sounded like. His smile and his laugh when he was happy. The way he scrunched his face when he wasn't.
But above all else: would he be okay?
And now that they knew without a doubt that he was? They could let him go.
As much as any parent could let go of a piece of their soul, their own flesh and blood.
He would always be a part of them. They would always wish things could have gone differently. But at least now, Mulder had had a chance to say goodbye. At least Scully wasn't being forced to leave him with little warning, worrying that she was abandoning him to an unknown fate.
A blanket of peace fell over this humble, outdated hotel room. And for the last few minutes they would spend as parents together, Mulder and Scully counted themselves lucky. For this time was a gift, far more than they could have ever hoped to receive.
The same knock from earlier sounded, and a heavy feeling settled in Mulder's chest. He dragged himself away from the bed, while Scully lifted the sleeping William into her arms and held him close.
“How did he do?” their son's mother asked, looking perfectly at ease in a way that calmed and reassured him.
“Great,” Mulder answered. “He—He's perfect.”
The time had come. Scully knew it too. They'd already stayed longer than they should have. He knew there was a long night of driving through pitch darkness ahead of them, and he really, really didn't want to go.
But he had to do what was right for his son. That was all he ever wanted to do, as a father. He just didn't want to be the one to break Scully's heart all over again.
“I guess this is it,” Scully said, sounding calmer than he would have expected. He knew her, though, and he could see the emotions brewing beneath the surface.
It would be a tearful night for both of them.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said to William's new mom, stepping fatefully toward her. But before she could pass him over, she paused, looking down at him for the last time in her own arms. “William?” she spoke, her voice strained. “Mommy loves you.”
“Daddy loves you too, baby boy,” Mulder said, never having referred to himself as such before, but wanting to know how it felt.
He cupped the sleeping child's head, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then another, not able to convince himself that each would be the last.
“I'm so sorry, William. Be good for your mom and dad, okay?”
Scully leaned against him, her strength beginning to wane.
“Goodbye,” she said, kissing him desperately all over, playing with his socked foot and each of his tiny fingers. “I want to believe I will see you again someday.”
As they passed him over, together this time, William's new parents smiled tearfully.
“If—If he suddenly gains an interest in Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster,” Mulder began in a worried, cautionary tone, “just buy him some picture books. He'll be okay.”
Though it easily could have been a joke, no one laughed. In fact, the man and woman nodded, taking his advice to heart. He felt better knowing their son would be accepted, no matter who he grew up to be. The child of the FBI's most unwanted was sure to be a bit of a loner.
“And tell him he'll grow into his nose. Sort of,” he added, this time eliciting a small smile from Scully.
“I promise, we'll tell him every day how loved he is,” the woman vowed. “I'm glad we met you.”
“I'd call it a God-given miracle,” the man said, and he reached out a hand to Mulder to shake. “Stay safe,” he said, then catching sight of Scully's necklace. “We'll be praying for you.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
Mulder's arms suddenly felt empty. He could see Scully felt the same, wrapping hers around her own torso just for something to hold. He enveloped her in an embrace, holding tight to keep both her and himself from chasing after them.
“Bye,” the woman said over her shoulder, her worried eyes unwilling to turn away from the sad couple they'd met. She gave a small, consoling smile, and lifted William's pudgy hand to wave goodbye.
Mulder and Scully waved half-heartedly in return, smiling as genuinely as they could, and watched as they disappeared through the door.
Once they were gone, Scully turned into Mulder's chest and held tight. His cheek rested on top of her head, and they swayed, silent but for the sound of the ocean nearby.
“We're gonna be okay,” Scully said at last. “Mulder—”
She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with sincerity and love.
“We're gonna be okay.”
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fairy-heart-magic · 1 year
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Dragon Slayer Head-Cannons
All of the dragon slayers are extremely creepy, they unnerve the hell out of other people just by being around them. Part of it is their appearance with pointed ears, dragon like eyes, the nails which seem more like claws and strange marks upon their skin but there’s more to it than that. The way they hold your stare, the way their pupils sharpen in the light, the way they hold their fingers-claws ready to slash-, the smiles they hold with razor sharp teeth. Nobody ever knows what it specifically is, just that there is something not quite human about them.
Dragon Slayer biology is completely wild and so different from human biology that they’re a lot closer to dragons than they are to humans.
They can see completely in the dark
They also have scales on the rough of their mouth and in the back of there throat to protect them from their roar’s.
They also have marks which came to be called dragon slayer marks as it allows both dragons and other dragon slayers to identify them, different elements produce different marks. Gajeel for example has black marks which look like welded seems across his body, Natsu has flame like patterns, Wendy has cloud like patterns, Laxus lightning like patterns, Sting has round circles like halo’s of light, Rogue has black patterns like shadows, Erik has what looks like small tear drops under his eyes but are obviously poison.
They have four sets of lungs to power their roar’s and employ a system of air sac’s (Air sac’s ensure oxygen rich air flows through the body when breathing in and out and is used by birds and they think dinosaurs used it to) however this can produce somewhat of a weakness as the second set of lungs are located behind the first and thus are towards the back of the ribcage making their back sensitive to impact. One good hit to the back and they’ll be completely stunned for a short period.
Their claws are razor sharp and can cause serious injury. Though the sharpness of the claw depends on the dragon slayer, Gajeel’s are strong enough to cut through iron and out of all the dragon slayers his are the thickest with Wendy’s being the weakest.
They instinctively fear whatever element they are weakest too. To explain Natsu is afraid of water though he can swim just fine he absolutely hates being in the water more than anything. Gajeel fears magma and extremely high temperature fire as they can melt through his iron (Though the fire has to be well over 2,500 Degrees Celsius as his iron is twice as strong as normal iron and twice the melting point). Wendy dislikes being low to the ground and prefers to be up in the air, she also fears polluted area’s or poisonous gases though she can use her magic to purify the air doing so is dangerous to her. Laxus similarly to Natsu dislikes water along with Earth magic as solid ground doesn’t conduct lightning and is one of the few things that stops lightning dead in its tracks. Sting is afraid of dark and black as they can smother his white-light. Rogue on the other hand is afraid of bright light and powerful sources of energy as they can erase his shadows. Erik is afraid of purifying magic as it can obviously cancel out his poison.
They’re all extremely flexible and agile, with it varying from dragon slayer to dragon slayer. From most flexible to least the list goest as follows. Natsu, Wendy, Sting, Rogue, Laxus, Gajeel.
That’s all I can think of for now though I’ll probably post another one of these at a later date focusing on each dragon slayer individually. As well as specific posts for Irene, Achnologia and maybe God Serena if I get around to it.
Feel free to reblog or use them if you want to.
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aspiringwriter1111 · 8 months
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In a way I feel like if Marinette had the miraculous of destruction, it could have been such a valuable learning curve/lesson? Because what if Plagg saw her tripping over nothing and stumbling and dropping things, and then her apologizing and feeling bad about it and just being like... "No???"
Like imagine if he taught her that the confidence he has, isn't because he's not clumsy or awkward, but because he IS??? He's the kwami of destruction, how could he not have accidentally caused problems in the past?
He tells her about the dinosaurs and the leaning tower of Pisa, and how he caused the destruction of so many important monuments, on accident.
He tells her the confidence is because he knows it could happen anyways, and there's a good chance it will, so why spend all your time stressing about it?
The confidence only grows when it sticks through all the fumbles.
Think about it, the more you make mistakes, the more you know that no matter what happens, you can still be confident.
You don't need to be more careful or make extra plans. You can't control the world around you, or the circumstances, no matter how you try. Like
Everyone makes mistakes and all that yeah, but the level of bonding over learning to be comfortable with your own destruction??? The mistakes you make only add to the solidity of your own confidence??? It's completely okay to mess up, and if that causes a huge mess, then so be it??? It doesn't make you a lesser person, or a mistake????
And over time, Marinette gets more confident. No matter how she trips or falls, musses her words, she knows her mistakes don't make her, that that without them she would never learn and grow. Her clumsiness is still there, but the embarrassment isn't.
And that's freeing in a way she's never felt???
Not afraid of mistakes anymore, she lets out her creative side in a way like she's never done before. Patterns, scribbles, and colors that she would never have put together before! Her fashion becoming a true expression of her boldness.
She's joining art club, and speaking up, not afraid of making a mistake or who sees it.
Comfort in her own skin, brings comfort to her life, and suddenly she's speaking with her seat mate easily???
Not necessarily speaking up to Chloe, but simply not being bothered?? There's gum on my chair, so what, I'll just move over.
She's taking Adrien's umbrella with ease, and returning it to him with a SIGNED note and macarons???
Sure, she still feels all warm and melty with him, but she's not nervous.
She leaves him homemade gifts when she feels like it, instead of plotting for his next seventy birthdays. She compliments his kindness and bravery. Encourages him, and supports him unabashedly.
She tells off Gabriel in season 1, and gives Adrien advice. About how he deserves better, because SHE KNOWS she deserves good things, so why shouldn't he deserve them too???
Adrien starts seeing her as an idol, much like he originally does with ladybug, and like the later seasons.
We get the same (or better) effect, and that just tickles me.
Because there's nothing to be embarrassed about.
You're safe in your own mistakes.
I could go into Adrien/Misterbug too
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4typercent · 2 months
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Dream!stitch Update #14
🎉 It's my one year of working on him! 🎉
Whoa, were half way there! 50% done as soon as I fill in that square at the bottom left. So far, I've done over 87,000 stitches.
He is a labour of love
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Sanyo Roku remote for scale, lol, you can see my dinosaur blanket underneath
Zoom in for detail
Pattern is not for sale. Click here for the reason.
14 count black Aida, two strand DMC
For all other material used, please ask!
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pimentogirl · 4 days
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Cretaceous
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Crossover Universe: Jurassic Park
Artist: @pimentogirl
Author: tiamatv
Tags/Warnings:
Relationship: Dean/Castiel Other Tags: AU - Jurassic Park Fusion; Dinosaurs; Yes The Dinosaurs Have Feathers; Genetic Engineering; One Night Stands; Reunions; Scientist Castiel; Smart Dean Winchester; Closeted Dean Winchester; Fluff and Humor
Summary:
Dean chuckles and pauses in his walk to lean against the edge of the walkway, stretching out his bad thigh. "Well, aren't you the brave little nugget," he tells her.
She tips her head at him. Most of the others have brown feathers scattered with a little cream or black, some mottled patterns showing through from the skin underneath. In the misty, dewy early morning, this one looks like she might have a hint of green in her plumage. She opens her mouth soundlessly in his direction, long tail flicking from side to side and making snake-trail patterns in the sand of the enclosure.
Even from up here, Dean can see the tiny curved daggers of her teeth. Her tongue is purple, which… okay, that is some weird shit.
"Uh huh," he says, grinning. "I get it, you're a scary murder chicken. I'm real lucky I'm all the way up here. Mmhmm."
"Dean," a voice says from behind him, breaking the stillness of the morning. "Are you conversing with a velociraptor?"
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Our DinoNerdery Collab. We squee'd over our shared love of the murder chickens and geeked out. Honestly Tia is a genius.
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alltoowelltom · 2 years
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Toms baby taking their first steps 🥺🥺
“Do you want to go see Daddy?” you ask Miles in a sing-song tone. 
He blinks up to see Tom sitting on the other side of the living room, back leaning against the sofa. Tom holds his arms out encouragingly, hoping his baby boy will finally toddle into them. 
Miles had been learning so much recently, he was now able to pull himself up with the help of a chair, a table leg or a helpful family member. When he managed to get himself standing, he would take an uncertain step, before collapsing to the ground and babbling to be picked up again. He just hadn’t quite figured out the whole walking thing. 
So here he was now, his dad’s whole family surrounding him and taking turns to try to help him walk. For the past few weeks he’d often entered the room giggling and standing on Tom’s feet while Tom held his hands, insisting that Miles just had to get a ‘feel’ for walking before he’d do it on his own. All afternoon his uncles had taken turns holding his arms above his head and assisting him as he waddled around the carpet in his tiny baby socks. All the exercise had certainly worn him out, and after a nap he was back in the living room, sitting firmly on your cross-legged lap as you pointed to Tom. 
“Look, Daddy wants to see you!” you whisper in Miles’ tiny ear. “Why don’t you walk over there? I know you can do it.” 
You gently lift him up, helping him balance on his feet as his chubby legs wobbled slightly. He giggles as you support him with your hands on his waist, the contact tickling him through his dinosaur patterned babygrow. 
“Come on mate, come see your ol’ dad,” Tom encourages, eyes only on you and his baby. He stretches out his legs, crossing them at the ankle and pats his lap, gesturing for Miles to come closer. 
Miles looks at his dad, seeming to consider it before turning and burrowing into your stomach, a tangle of tubby baby limbs and fuzzy hair. You laugh, wrapping your arms around him and placing a quick kiss to his head. 
“Tom, your son’s got stage fright,” laughs Harry from his spot on the sofa. 
“Miles,” Tom calls, before letting out a fake sniffle. Miles takes no notice to Tom ups the act, hiding his face in his hands and letting his shoulders shake. 
Miles wriggles on your lap, turning to look over his shoulder at his dad. He blinks at Tom while he continues to fake sob. Miles whines so you help lift him up again, turning him to face his dad. Miles furrows his brow in the exact same way you’ve seen Tom do a thousand times when he’s concentrating on something. Miles watches the carpet carefully as if to check it’s still in the same place, before taking one uncertain step. The entire family holds their breath as Miles watches Tom, taking another, and another, and another-
He trips suddenly, one foot getting caught on the other and you think that maybe Tom does have spidey senses with how quickly he stops pretending to cry and stretches his arms out to catch his son before he hits the ground. He scoops Miles into his arms, cradling him close to his chest as the family cheers for Miles.
“Did you walk all the way over here?” Tom coos to his son in between quick kisses to his temple. “All by yourself? Aren’t you a clever boy?” 
Miles buries his grin in Tom’s chest, unable to hide the pride in his face at his dad’s praise. 
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
you guys coming through with the dad!tom blurbs 😩 keep em coming !
please consider reblogging if you enjoyed- it really helps a writer out
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a-dinosaur-a-day · 1 year
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The Birdcage
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Jurassic Park: It's Ironic, by Meig of A-Dinosaur-A-Day
What follows is a retelling of the Jurassic Park story, mainly based on the 1993 film, with portions of the original novel used to supplement the story. The main point of divergence occurs when the park is unable to find workable nonavian dinosaur genetic material for cloning, since - as in the real world - dna degrades much too rapidly. Instead, the park consists only of extinct dinosaurs that can be brought back - birds from the last 2.5 million years. What happens after that is, as Ian Malcolm would say, an emerging pattern.
Infinite thanks to beta readers @plokool, @killdeercheer, and @otussketching! And extra thanks to @i-draws-dinosaurs for the killer logo! Happy 30th anniversary of the JP Film!
Link to the masterpost of chapters
Chapter One: Magallanes Basin, Chile
It was frigid at the dig site, with sharp winds battering everything they could, knocking over rocks and tools and even people. Some folks were shouting over the wind, while others were hurrying to protect precious material. The chaos was almost too much to deal with, but Donald Gennaro had work to do, and needed to consult with the dig site leader, Juanito.
Dig site leader was, honestly, not descriptive enough. Juanito Rostagno was one of the most respected paleontologists of South America, and he oversaw all the dig sites run by International Genetics Technology Incorporated, otherwise known as InGen. And it was precisely because of his competence and knowledge that Gennaro had made the trip so far south.
Magallanes Basin was as far south in Patagonia as you could get, near Tierra del Fuego. The freezing winds and icy temperatures prevented it from being inhabited in most locations, with only a few population centers popping up here or there. The dig site was near the sea, among the rocky crags and crevices, far away from the more famous Patagonian steppe. Snow was common, which made the dig perilous – at any point, the material could be lost forever. As it was, a miracle must have prevented the material around them from being swept out to sea.
“Hola Juanito!” Donald greeted, finally finding the scientist among the others, reaching out to shake his hand as he tripped over a few rocks.
“Hola! Bienvenido!” Juanito shouted, gesturing for Donald to follow him across the rocky terrain. He was dressed in khakis and a thick flannel shirt, not bothering to wear a hat for fear of the wind blowing it away. Donald had lost his own hat about fifteen minutes ago. But among the researchers and workers dressed more similarly to Juanito, Donald felt quite out of place in his business suit.
“So Hammond is back at the island?” Donald asked, trying desperately not to trip over another rock. In the distance, a group of penguins walked by the workers, to their delight as they attempted to talk and interact with them. Donald had been brushing up on his knowledge of local wildlife, and was pretty sure they were Magellanic Penguins, a small variety similar to the African or Humboldt. They were really very cute. Sometimes he could really understand the appeal of Hammond’s vision.
“No, he had to go back to California early. He sends his apologies,” Juanito explained, grimacing slightly as the pair made it to one of the sturdy tents tucked away against the side of the mountain. It was significantly warmer here, both protected from the wind and supporting a small space heater.
Donald bristled but kept his voice even as he responded, “We are facing a twenty-million-dollar lawsuit by the family of that worker! And you’re telling me Hammond can’t even bother to see me?”
“He wants to be with his daughter, she’s getting a divorce,” Juanito said, picking up a bone fragment and examining it.
“I understand that, but we’ve been advised to deal with the situation now. The underwriters feel that the accident has raised some very serious safety questions about the park. This makes the investors very very anxious. I had to promise to conduct a very thorough, on-site inspection.”
Juanito looked up from the bone, frowning at Donald.
“Hammond hates inspections, they slow everything down.”
Donald fought the urge to laugh as he responded, “Well I need to or they’ll pull the funding. That’ll slow him down even more.”
“Juanito! Juanito!”
Both men looked up to the tent mouth to see a young graduate student waving them outside. Donald grit his teeth and followed them, bracing himself for the wind as they ambled down the hill towards a more secluded spot. The rocks were tucked against the mountain, with a pit a few feet deep so hidden Donald almost fell into it.
“Qué tenemos aquí?” Juanito asked the student, as they both began talking in rapid Spanish. Donald had learned Spanish, of course – hard to consult with a company that did most of its business in Latin America if he hadn’t – but he still could not follow the native speakers as their words flowed seamlessly like rivers between them. He could pick out the occasional world – something about a skull, dirt, and a new specimen.
“A ver muéstrame, muéstrame,” Juanito finally said slowly enough for Donald to pick it out, following them down into the pit carefully. Donald tripped into it, as he had almost predicted, steadying himself against the side of the rocks.
“Watch your footing!” Juanito warned as they came into the main center of the pit.
“If two experts,” Donald continued, determined to move past the fact that he couldn’t walk down here, apparently, “Sign off on the island, the insurance guys will back off. I’ve already got Ian Malcolm, but they think he’s too trendy – they want Alan Grant.”
Alan Grant and his research team had been early consultants on the project, though they never really knew what they were consulting about. Now they were just on Hammond’s digsite payroll – always looking for that one in a million chance that, maybe, his original dream could still happen.
“Grant?” Juanito snorted, “You’ll never get him out of Montana.” He picked up a skull fragment and looked at it excitedly, calling for the students around him to come over to examine it with him.
“Why not?” Donald asked, irritated.
“Because Grant’s like me,” Juanito explained, smirking, “He’s a digger.”
“Well what about Spinoza, down in New Zealand? She was hired for consultancy when the project changed direction.”
‘Changed Direction’ was the official wording for the major speedbump that had nearly thrown the entire enterprise out the window. Even mentioning it made a small frown appear on Juanito’s face. Donald didn’t like even mentioning it, given how much of the original investment had been lost chasing impossible dreams. They had kept as much of that original idea as they could, of course – even continuing to consult with Grant, Sattler, and others, when their work was no longer particularly relevant – but there was no getting around it. Hammond’s big dream had to be downsized. The laws of nature were against him.
“Spinoza?” Juanito continued, “Maybe. I do know she returned to the States recently for a conference, so she may actually be available. But she’ll insist on Grant and Sattler coming, too.”
“Why?” Donald asked, eyebrows raising towards his receding hairline. He had not even understood why they kept them on the payroll.
“Because she’s Grant’s former student, and none of them know that Grant and Sattler are no longer our chief experts,” Juanito snorted, “This is the price of all our secrecy, is it not?”
Donald sighed, “I suppose. So, what, in the middle of this lawsuit and the investors getting nervous, I’m supposed to fly down a whole spread of experts, regardless of their actual relevance, to check out this park?”
“Sattler is still relevant,” Juanito pointed out, “And beyond that, Grant is one of the strongest researchers in behavior we have. He will still be helpful. If you can get him to leave.”
“Any idea how I can do that?” Donald laughed.
Juanito helped his students start to prepare the specimens before them for transportation. He turned to look at Donald, frowning.
“Well...” Juanito paused, taking a deep breath and looking Donald straight in the eye, “Funding for us diggers. Nearly impossible. As always.”
Donald sighed.
It always came back to money.
“Since he couldn’t be bothered to join this meeting, I’ll have John sell it. His boisterous enthusiasm and cavalier attitude towards money will make it more enticing, anyway,” Donald said.
“Certainly is a better salesman than you,” Juanito laughed. Donald couldn’t help laughing with him.
“Unfortunately I cannot come with,” Juanito continued, frowning apologetically at Donald, “After all, look what we have here.” He gestured to the new material, which looked just like more bone scraps to Donald. But he wasn’t an expert.
“Think that’ll be a new species we can add?” Donald asked.
Juanito shrugged, walking back up out of the pit and helping Donald with him, “Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Donald wasn’t confident enough that the project would move forward to answer.
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