Hennahawk

Here he is all grown up!

His name is Maui and he still takes a pat like no phrawblem

But he’s still giving you the stink eye because he’s actually a New York bodega cat at Willy’s Deli in Brooklyn and you know how New Yorkers are about Bostonians

That’s a great cat right there

From that point until episode 9, there are no more flashbacks to Stede’s family, no more mention of them, we don’t even see the lighthouse painting again. Ed was able to reframe the situation for Stede such that Stede was finally able to give himself permission to let go of the guilt he was carrying around. With Ed, Stede is finally able to allow himself to truly enjoy his new life and new freedom to be himself.

And then episode 9 happens and the man signing them into the naval academy says, “Wife, Mary Bonnet.” Hard cut to Mary, her face slamming onto the screen with the same force as the guilt slamming its way back into Stede. Guilt that’s twice as strong now, since he also has to feel guilty about having ever let it go in the first place.

lesbian klingons:

Do questioning Klingons ever show their crush their poetry, only to have their crush assume that he’s helping them proofread or something?

Is there ever an issue where a lesbian Klingon tries very awkwardly to recite poetry to her lady love? 

Or instances where two lesbians are basically beating the shit out of each other and both thinking “I know she thinks this is just a regular old gal fight, but no, seriously, I’m trying to declare my intentions here”?

Chag Sameach and Happy Hanukkah to all my Jewish followers. And Merry Christmas to all who celebrate later this month!

I’m still on my Jewish!Bruce kick, so please enjoy the mostly secular piece below.

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There was an old menorah hidden somewhere up here.

Bruce lifted another dusty box out of the way, avoiding the cloud of dirt it flung up into the attic. He tried to recall where Alfred had carefully buried the box—a soft velvet, inlaid with silk—decades ago.

Perhaps he’d blocked it from his memory. Perhaps he’d merely forgotten.

“What are you doing?”

Bruce looked up from the boxes. Dick was standing at the attic door, a lone eyebrow raised. His hair was wet, like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“Looking for something,” he muttered, turning away. Another box—no, this was china. Why did they have so much china? “How was patrol?”

“Quiet,” Dick replied with a shrug. He stepped into the attic, circling Bruce’s position. “You do realize it’s four in the morning, right?”