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rosenallies · 5 months

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Can you write a phone sex au prompt where Rosie tells Nali she's proud of her because she knows Nali never heard that enough from her parents growing up? Please I use your prompts as therapy.

projecting your emotions and mental illnesses onto fic characters or fictional characters in general should be a therapist recognized coping skill tbh <3 also this is like a little condensed version of those 5+1 fics bc I had a lot of little ideas so here’s that instead of one full prompt <3

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Rosé curled herself around Denali, their still naked bodies sticking together with the sweat that had accumulated.

“I’m proud of you,” Rosé whispered, kissing her shoulder.

Denali laughed, looking down at her, amused, “For what? You’re the one who made me cum 3 times in a row.”

Shrugging, Rosé kissed her again. “I just am.”

Denali stayed silent, shifting closer to Rosé and resting her cheek on the crown of her head, a weird feeling blooming in her chest.

••

“Rosieeee,” Denali sing-songed, attempting to crawl back inside from the fire escape, a puff of smoke coming in with her.

Rosé flew to her feet, guiding Denali to the floor in a fluid movement, briefly afraid she’d fall. “Jesus, Nali, how much did you smoke?” She laughed, shaking her head.

“Two bowls,” Denali giggled, looking into Rosé’s eyes, hers half lidded and glazed over.

“Wow, is that a new record? Proud of you,” she joked, poking Denali in the side then guiding her to the couch to sit with her.

••

Denali rested her head in her hands as she cried, the phone ringing as she waited for Rosé to pick up.

Finally, she did and Denali couldn’t help but sob into the phone the second she heard her voice.

“Denali, honey? Are you okay?”

“N-no, I-I’m s-so-“

“Breathe with me, darling, breathe-“ Rosé coached softly, praising her when she followed Rosé’s lead, breathing quietly on the other line with her, “good job, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

“Proud?” Denali choked, “you’re proud of this? I’m so-“

“I told you that you can call me whenever you feel anxious and I meant that. You’ve been telling me only after the fact about the panic attacks you’ve been having so I’m very proud of you for calling me for support during it.”

“No one’s ever really said they’re proud of me,” Denali admitted softly, cheeks warm.

“Well, I am. I’m very proud of you, sweetheart.”

••

“Baby, why don’t you tell them about how one of the teams you coach won gold at the state champtionships last week?” Rosé exclaimed, eyes sparkling as she urged Denali to tell her parents about their daughter’s most recent accomplishment.

Glancing over at her, Denali’s mother only shrugged, unimpressed, “Just state?”

Denali shifted anxiously in her seat, cheeks burning with shame. “I-I don’t know I was kind of proud of them,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “and myself.”

“Pride is what ruins work ethic,” her mother laughed as if it was a nothing but a lighthearted joke and not something that made tears prick in her daughter’s eyes.

Meanwhile, beside Denali, anger burned in the pit of Rosé’s stomach. “Well, I am very proud of you,” she said pointedly, “you worked very hard on that number.”

••

Tw// ed

“Baby, tell me what happened,” Rosé briefly glanced over at Denali from the road, her knees pulled to her chest in the passenger seat of their car, “please.”

Denali felt sick to her stomach, her mother’s comment forcing itself to the center of her brain. “My mom made a comment about how I shouldn’t have finished everything on my plate during dinner,” she said quickly like if she got the words out all at once they might leave her forever.

Rosé sighed, brows furrowed together as she continued to focus on the dark road ahead. “Baby, that isn’t true,” she said, heart aching for her. There was a time where a comment like that directed towards herself would’ve sent her into a dark downward spiral, so she understood exactly how Denali felt.

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe I need-“

“No-“ Rosé started before being interrupted.

“I just need to-“

“No!” Rosé almost yelled, slamming on the brakes suddenly, the car lurching to a stop before she shoved it into park, turning to Denali, “she is not right. At all. You don’t need to change anything, do you understand?”

“But-“

“Darling,” Rosé said softly , eyes shining with unshed tears, “I’m proud of you for finishing everything, I know that’s been hard for you lately, so I’m proud of you. You are perfect inside and out, and you don’t need to hurt yourself because of what someone else thinks.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Denali nodded, pressing herself forward into Rosé’s arms as best they could with the center console between them.

••

Rosé laughed, biting Denali’s lower lip slightly, their bodies pressed together. “I knew you had a praise kink but fuck.”

Denali moaned as Rosé moved her hips just right, pressing into her. “Just-just say it again, please.”

They continued grinding onto one another, their bodies slipping and sliding against each others’. “I’m so proud of you,” Rosé moaned, “I’m so proud of you, so fucking proud of you for everything you do.”

“Mommy!” Denali squealed, stomach erupting with butterflies, “I’m close!”

“I’m so proud of you,” Rosé continued, “proud of you and proud to be with you, I love you, I love you, I love you!”

They came one after the other, names falling from kiss bitten lips like lost pearls.

“That was-“ Rosé breathed, once Denali collapsed into her and she collapsed onto the headboard, chests heaving.

“Yeah, fucking amazing.”

“I really am proud of you for everything, you know.”

Denali smiled softly, reaching over and lacing their fingers together. “I know, you tell me all the time. Now don’t say it again unless you’re ready for round 3.”

Rosé gasped, rolling over and crawling over Denali, bracketing her in with her arms. “Round 3?! You must be insatiable! It’s good I am too, so if that’s the case, yes, baby, mommy is very proud of you.”

#phone sex au #prompt request

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heungmins · 1 year

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hello! disclaimer this will probably be a dumb question as someone who has been on the peripheral of football but never fully into and is just starting to (watching national but never club level) 😅, but considering that Jordan plays for England and is from what I see anyway very good why is it still at Everton, is it a love or loyalty to the club or just a lack of options? and if everton do go down will he go with them or move? and if he stays will he still be called up to England? Sorry for the flurry of questions but no one around me knows this kinda stuff and Google was no help so thought I’d ask the only Jordan connoisseur i know of :))

haha thank you for sending me this !! but tbh im very limited in football knowledge myself, esp english football, bc i grew up watching korean football :) i can only say that he's far too good to be in the champtionship, so he'll probably move, and that he's england's number 1, can't be replaced

i'll redirect you over to @sendinthehuskies (and @romeroworldcup) who knows much more about jordan than me jdhfjhkh

one last thing: he's coming to spurs next season . mark my words

#asks #anons

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carpehistoryandthepens · 2 years

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SHES A THREE-TIME NATIONAL CHAMP?! SHES 16!!

WHAT?!

like 15-16 is when you should be a first-time nat champ. not third! wow.

#olympics lb #olympics 2022 #History watches the olympics #not pens #directly anyway #olympics blogging #if the covid cancled one event then her first champtionship was when she was 13?!#you should not be landing triples at that age!#your hips!#your back!#(also hottake: teens should not be landing quads until they are at least like 19)#your knees!!

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quicksiluers · 2 years

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baker: i put alcohol into it just for you guys! :)

judges: are ya sure? cause i don’t taste it

baker:

#my ramblings #it happens EVERY TIME #i'm drawing and one of one of food networks many baking champtionship shows lol #and it's so funny cause they'll cut to the baker just DUMPING alcohol into whatever they're making #and the judge is like 'nah can't taste it'#never fails to make me laugh

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retrocgads · 5 years

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UK 1995

#UK1995 #DOMARK #SIMULATION #RACING #IBM #ATARIst #AMIGA #SEGA GENESIS #SEGA MASTER SYSTEM #SEGA GAME GEAR #FORMULA ONE #F1 WORLD CHAMPTIONSHIP

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thexam-union · 3 years

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Lego City and Heartlake City are in! They’re just trying to vibe, and they sure are succeeding! They’re both just incredibly happy girls who are just having a great time, and isn’t that the energy we want to take forward?

They’re both pretty quick to answer their messages, too, so if you pass a question their way you shouldn’t have to wait long!

And, of course, plain text from the images is below the cut.

Pincoya:

Name : Pincoya Pronouns : She/Her Division : Norma District : Lego City Charge : Haunted House Monster Party Form : Water Spirit Local Duty : Lighthouse Keeper Extra Abilities : Can bring in an abundance of fish when people try to catch them.

Pincoya is new in town. That's why it took so long for her to start showing up to the regular parties, though she always brings a gift with her, just because it's rude not to. Coming from the coast means that she can find all sorts for everyone, and she picks things with specific people in mind. Who doesn't love a nice shiny rock, or maybe even a iridescent shell found at the bottom of the reachable ocean? Who knows what you find these days.

Being a good swimmer, Pincoya tends to stay around the ocean. This often means that she does have to shuffle around her timetable when invited to an event, but it'sdefinitely always worth tagging along, given that for a vampire, the host is surprisingly personable! He's incredibly polite, even if he likes bad puns, and he's incredibly talented when it comes to making music.

When it comes to other hobbies and friends, Pincoya tends to try to befriend most people she comes across. She doesn't really face a lot of problems as a result of anything, but she does like to catch up with Electra when she comes back from research trips, being into aquatic life and the oceann as well. On top of that, being in a similar location to Natasha means that they do tend to bump into each other regularly, especially given the lighthouse job. She's nice enough, they just don't really have common ground outside of occasionally sharing fashion tips. Pincoya isn't a lonely person, at least not anymore, so that's always a good thing.

Natasha:

Name : Natasha Pronouns : She/Her Division : Norma District : Heartlake City Charge : Mia's Riding Adventure Form : Human Local Duty : Student, Jockey Extra Abilities : None

Natasha's a girl you can rely on before she's anything else, including a champtionship jockey. She wants to be available when people need it, and a pillar for the same sort of situation. She just wants to live out there in Heartlake City, and will welcome anyone to it that wants to stick around. Her goals for the future are making her jockey dreams a jockey reality, but she isn't going to put other people down over it. Friends before a fleeting dream.

When it comes to hobbies, though, Natasha tries to give everything a go before forming an opinion on it. She's surprisingly really into fashion, for instance, a suggestion from one of her friends. She's also really into planning trips to local parks and the like for her and her friends, most of the time bringing people from across the Division in on the shenanigans too! Typically this tends to be whoever's around, since you can't really rely on people being reachable at any given moment. Someone who is reachable, though? Apollyon from Aquila. She loves talking to her about caring for her horse and dealing with all the associated things. Plus, Apollyon's a literal cowboy! She loves that so much! Most other people aren't down to listen to a five hour rant about her horse, Markab, and she loves getting updates about Alioth in return. They're grooving!

#legoland windsor oc #theme park ocs #legoland ocs #🧱 } The World Of Imagination #🎠 } Beltrame's Jesters #🌇 } Lego City #🏘️ } Heartlake City #🎉 } Haunted House Monster Party #🏇 } Mia's Riding Adventure #🌀 } Pincoya #🏇 } Natasha

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mish-tique · 3 years

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omega max being extremely high in the emotions because it wasn't his fault and it's so frustrating... but something switches and he realizes that it won't change much, that he should just let himself get checked up at the medical center and then observe the race.

hamilton missing out of the points didn't make it worse so he felt some kind of relief, his position in the world champtionship unchanged. But the ending position was so unexpected that he couldn't help but come out to congratulate them himself.

he was proud of checo of course, knew that vettel more than deserved it but when he came to congratulate his ex team mate he realized something... max had always known that pierre was an alpha, an attractive one at that but the way he smelled at that moment, high on his podium and high in the pheromones. he swore he could pass out on that alone.

max excused himself, practically ran away and looked for somewhere to hide from the possible feeling that his heat might be anywhere near when it shouldn't.

#f1 fanfiction #omega max #alpha pierre #pierre x max

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evelynmlewis · 4 years

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Friendly reminder that Earth’s Champion, my 50K fic about Shiro’s year in Galran captivity, is still up on fanfiction.net and ao3. :)

Here’s an excerpt from the fic:

___________________________________

The Galra – he had listened to their speech and heard this one called a Lieutenant – opened the cell with a palm. The blue screen dissolved.

One of the Galra kicked the purple shirt. “Put it on.”

Shiro stood up and carefully donned the ragged garment, eyeing the two aliens.

“Time to go.” The Lieutenant leveled a blaster at him. As Shiro stepped outside the cell, for the first time since Kerberos, he could see Matt Holt. The boy was crouching in the back of cell four, and he’d put on the purple shirt already. His eyes fixed on Shiro. He looked terrified.

The other Galra moved on to Matt’s cell, opened it, and pointed his blaster at Matt. “Come.” He had none of the careful intensity with which the Lieutenant managed Shiro, however, and Shiro had the feeling they both knew who was more dangerous.

They exited the cellblock. Shiro risked a glance behind him (to the prod of a blaster) and saw that the other aliens from their cellblock were being led along behind them. They were a motley bunch.

But he wasn’t able to get a good look at them until they reached their destination. It was only a few halls away, and it was a sort of holding room. The floor was sand, and the ceiling sloped upwards from where they’d come and downwards toward a closed, pentagonal door. He glanced at the ceiling. The underside of bleachers. He could practically feel the weight above, and the vibrations of movement.

Even as they’d approached through the halls, he’d heard the noise—a dull, building roar, a heavy sound that he recognized. Crowds. Shouting.

The raw anticipation of a sporting event was like a pheromone that permeated the air, bleeding through the walls and infecting the entire company. Shiro’s nerves reached a crescendo.

The Galra had vacated the waiting room. The rest of the aliens trembled. They weren’t gladiators, he realized, any more than he or Matt were. He could hardly take stock of them all.

There was a lime-green fleshy alien with leaf like protrusions sticking from the sides of its head. Next to it was a green frog-like alien, then an alien with fish lips and four arms, and an antennae-like protrusion from its forehead. There was a blue and white spotted alien with floppy ears like a dog. There was a bulky, lizardlike magenta alien.

There were three humanoids as well, of indeterminate gender. One had pale yellow with webbed fingers, another two were of the same kind, with rock-studded skin. They had already been here when he and Matt arrived. He had the feeling that they were from cells 1 through 3.

And lastly, there was a pink, six-armed creature with a little beak that reminded him of an octopus. Each arm was sticking through the sleeve of a gray suit and a purple shirt not unlike the ones he and Matt were wearing.

He had only to hear it whispering to the fish-lipped alien before he realized who it was.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“From cell five?” the fish-lipped alien whispered back with some apprehension, but not quietly enough. Shiro ignored them.

“Yep.”

“The guy who was shouting in the cell last night?” the magenta lizard grunted. “I bet he’ll be an absolute beast in the ring.”

Now, hang on. That wasn’t fair. He’d been tired, hungry, kidnapped, and Musha had mocked him. But they were afraid. Of him. And suddenly his idea morphed into something solid.

The pentagonal door slid open, and the dull roar turned into a sharp one. The sand stretched out flat over an area about the length of a football field. And it really was like a football stadium. There were four spiked pillars in the center. The walls of the arena sloped outward, and above them were bleachers so vast they looked like great planes. The stadium must have seated… Shiro’s mind wasn’t in a state to estimate. Ten thousand? The audience was a technicolor blur. He could smell their sweat.

The aliens huddled back. Figures appeared in the doorway. Sentries.

One of the sentries leveled a bladed weapon at the yellow-skinned humanoid that Shiro could only take for a sword. It had a semicircular blade affixed to its end that looked deadly as any scythe.

“You first,” rasped a synthetic voice.

“Wh—I—no!” Relative to the others in the room, the creature’s face was expressive and easy to read. He saw the panic in her? His? eyes. But the sentries came into the waiting chamber, and forcibly separated the denizen of cell one from the rest of the group. They dumped him in the sand outside the door, and a grated portcullis fell across the pentagon.

They could still see the ring, but they could not interfere.

The alien staggered to its bare feet. There were fins on its ankles. “I’m unarmed,” it was pleading with the sentries. “I don’t even have claws or teeth. Please!”

But the sentries had already powered down for the fight. He could see the purple light leaving their eyes.

The crowd roared, and Shiro’s eyes fell to the far side of the ring. There another pentagonal door had opened.

“PLEASE WELCOME…” It was the booming voice of an announcer.

“THE VICTOR OF THE YEAR 1023 EMPIRE CHAMPTIONSHIPS… MYZAX!”

There was an even greater roar, and Myzax emerged. They went on and, on, hardly dying down until Myzax reached the center of the ring. The yellow-skinned alien still had not moved from its position near the door.

“FIGHT!”

Myzax began to lumber towards them. Shiro watched him. He was not the quickest or most agile opponent. He had gray, leathery skin, and an ugly orcish face that gave Shiro the impression of low intelligence, though the assumption was likely prejudicial. His biggest strength appeared to be that he was armed.

He was at least 12 feet tall, wearing spike-studded gauntlets and a breastplate. But most importantly, he was carrying a torch-like wand. This weapon held a ball of sizzling purple energy.

The function of the weapon soon became apparent.

The amphibious alien was forced to dodge as Myzax swung the torch. The energy ball came flying across the arena, and smashed into the wall, where it disappeared.

From there it was more throwing and dodging. The alien didn’t even try to fight back. It was painful to watch, and Shiro knew it could only go on for so long. All the while Myzax kept lumbering closer and closer, until he had the alien cornered against the wall.

Shiro tried to stop watching. He really did. “Matt,” he said. “Don’t look.” Matt looked away, but then looked again through squinted eyes.

In the end, it was the gauntlet, not the orb. Myzax brought it down with a crushing blow. They heard the crack of the amphibian’s spine, and a horrific squeal.

The aliens in the waiting room recoiled. Matt let out a choked breath.

Myzax lumbered back to the center of the ring.

“AND… MYZAX REMAINS THE CHAMPION!”

Sentries were already swarming out to remove the alien’s body.

“NEXT UP! BALMERANS FROM THE PLANET BALMERA!”

Shiro’s stomach turned. This was sick blood sport. How could they enjoy this? The two rocky aliens were already standing up.

“I see we go together,” said one of them in a distinctly female voice.

“Indeed, sister,” said the male one grimly. “We shall approach him from either side. Perhaps we can win.”

Shiro perked up a little. Whatever they saw wouldn’t be pleasant, but these rocky aliens clearly had some fight in them.

The grate slid up again, and the sentries appeared, but the Balmerans didn’t wait to be prodded. They barreled out into the ring. Then, true to their word, they went separate ways, the sister to the right, the brother to the left. Myzax turned back and forth, trying to track both of them. Maybe this was going to work.

The sister stopped, and made some sort of taunt, with a yell that he couldn’t hear over the shouts of the crowd. Myzax took the bait. Focusing on her, he raised his torch.

Meanwhile, the brother lowered his head, capped with a dark helmet-like bone protrusion. He charged for Myzax’s back with a powerful head-butt, like some kind of hornless bull. The blow connected with the gladiator’s thigh, and he staggered. The energy ball flew, but it was misaimed.

The sister took the opening to come running in. She tackled his left while the brother grabbed for the torch. The aliens in the holding room held their breaths.

Myzax shook himself like a dog, throwing the Balmeran sister away from him. He swung his weapon downward and, not even bothering to throw the energy ball, plunged it into the Balmeran brother’s face.

There was a sizzle and the loud SNAP of energy. The brother fell away. His face was… not even a face anymore, just a blackened lump.

Even despite the general noise, they could hear the sister scream. She staggered back to the arena wall. She seemed frozen, unable to move as the gladiator raised that torch again. And then, with the practiced ease of a professional batter, he threw the ball. This time his aim was true.

The crowd roared again. A general aura of doom settled more heavily over the rest of the prisoners.

“WELL WELL FOLKS, YOU’RE IN FOR A TREAT! NEXT UP WE HAVE A NOVELTY SPECIES FROM… PLANET OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN! … AFTER THE COMMERCIAL BREAK!”

Cell four. Matt.

The commercial break was an opportunity for the sentries to more thoroughly clean up the arena, and concessions to be sold. Myzax retreated briefly.

“I’m not gonna make it,” Matt said tremulously. “I’ll never see my family again.”

Shiro was biding his time, watching the sentries. There could only be a few more seconds until the end of the commercial break. “You can do this,” he said, putting his hand on Matt’s shoulder. Anything to encourage him in the moment, but he couldn’t explain his plan out loud. He could only hope Matt would understand.

Shiro braced himself for what he was about to do.

The gate withdrew to the ceiling. One of the sentries stepped in again and pointed that sword straight at Matt, who gasped.

That was his cue. He bellowed, and leaped forward, grabbing Matt by the shoulder. He shoved the younger boy backwards into the sand, then went from under the sentry’s arm to wrest the sword from its grasp. The creatures were surprisingly unstable.

Still inside the gate, he wheeled round, brandishing the sword. The aliens recoiled from him. Musha showed confusion, the rest only terror. “This is MY fight!”

These Galra seemed to respect bloodlust. Well, maybe they’d let him get away with this.

Sorry, Matt.

He turned on Matt, and swung the sword at him below the knee. He winced internally at the ripping of fabric, the thin line of blood, and the absolutely shocked look on Matt’s face.

“I want BLOOD!!”

Shiro pounced on Matt, who was already on the ground. With his face only inches from Matt’s, he dropped the mask for the only second he had. “Take care of your father.”

As comprehension dawned on Matt’s face, he felt sentry hands on his shoulders. And, still holding the sword, Shiro was dragged backwards into the ring.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507648/chapters/48669032#workskin

#voltron #fanfic #again even this self promotion is for those of my friends on here who i KNOW havent read it yet #(julian smith voice) I MADE THIS FOR YOU #DRINK MY HOT KOOL AID #shiro #takashi shirogane #voltron legendary defender #writing #my writing #writeblr

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darkwood-sleddog · 5 years

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Some continued discussion on breed split in the Malamute...again.

Malamutes are getting bigger on average than they ever were historically. A lot of folks are attracted to the breed because of its large size, or find status in having a 100 pound dog. But Malamutes, while the largest sled dog, are not supposed to be large.

Larger dogs break down faster and eat more food, neither makes a good sled dog for native peoples, this is a dog they relied on to live in harsh arctic conditions.

Take the dogs in my previous post about breed splits for example:

The show only dog is 26 inches and 97 pounds (i’ll post him again below)

This working type dog is 27″ and 90 pounds:

A thicker type working dog (also 27″) and 91 pounds:

The two working dogs are considered big dogs, almost on the too large spectrum for working breeders to have them in their program, but we can see they are nicely angulated and strong, fit to work. So why are shorter, Show only dogs getting so heavy when historically we see dogs in the 70 pound range (These Byrd Expedition dogs from BAE II):

Or this Kotzebue line dog also on a Byrd Expedition bred to the original 1930′s standard that states male dogs from 65-85 pounds:

Or this description of M’Loot line dogs by the originator of the line which states the dogs were 70-85 pounds? (For those unfamiliar M’Loot line dogs are bigger than Kotzebue dogs on average, but many people think they were 100+ pounds, they were not).

In all sincerity it frustrates me to see breeders using the M’Loot line to “authenticate” giant line dogs, even when their dogs are being successful at work they are purposely breeding dogs that are 165 pounds and 30+ inches tall. We have it in WRITING that the M’Loot dogs were not this big (it is rumored Giant type breeders added St. Bernard in the 70′s & 80′s). Bigger dogs began appearing in the arctic when white communities brought European breeds with them, thus mixing in many genetics (Like some colors, long hair (undesirable in Malamutes since it is non-functional in arctic conditions, bigger size).

Here are some historical Champs (with the occasional accomplished Working dog) from the Alaskan Malamute, you can really see how the breed has changed when comparing it to modern show type dogs (in order going from recent to the beginning of the breed):

BIS CH Poker Flat's Yukon Law (born 1992), still a nice length of leg and strong top line here, but the dog is starting to become longer in body length, neck is long, but not as exaggerated as it has become now.

Topkok's Klondyke Nuna TOPP SLED DOG, FINMARKSLØPET 1987 AND MANY RACES. An athletic bitch with good race results, nice length of leg and angulation, nice top line

CH (INT/MEX/INT/US) Glacier's Storm Kloud (born 1965) a very type-ey dog for the time, a little straighter than even some later show dogs, you can really see his influence as a popular sire with modern dogs both working and show.

CH Mulpus Brook's Master Otter (born 1946) The first Malamute to ever place in AKC group competition. A M’Loot line dog in an era prior to the two mixes being intermixed, lovely length of leg and great head that we often still see in Working line dogs (Master Otter came from a kennel that worked both Malamutes and Siberians), nice angulations, length of neck is not exaggerated, tail is incorrect, but still a nice dog. Obviously a large dog, but not overdone.

CH Toro of Bras Coupe (born 1946) A Kotzebue type dog, compact and shorter legged than the M’Loot type above, you can see how both Kotzebue features and M’Loot features mixed and created a more balanced dog overall in the 1965 dog (but Toro & Master Otter are still nicely balanced dogs).

CH Gripp of Yukon (born 1929) the first Registered Alaskan Malamute and the First Alaskan Malamute Champion. Mother was Bessie, a dog from Greenland and Father was Yukon Jad, a dog from Dawson City, Canada.

Can you see the exaggerated long neck in the modern show dog? The slightly saggy top line? The short hock? The straighter angulation? The super long back (that is not in balance with the dog’s length of leg)? The more wooly looking and profuse coat? (coat is also overly groomed in the show photo, Malamutes are supposed to be shown natural via the standard...)

In the 1990′s show type malamutes were run in the Iditarod and there was little if any split between work/show. Here is a link to a page about the specific dogs that ran in the Iditarod in the 90′s, take note of their weights, the dogs range from 60 pounds to 86 pounds, none above, why are dogs today SO BIG IN COMPARISON?? When looking at working line pedigrees today you often see show dogs from this era, because they were often one and the same.

More people were working their breeding stock at that time. We see less people working Alaskan Malamutes as a whole now and the breed has started to change and breed splits are occurring. It is something to be aware of and to think about.

To end on a light hearted note here are some historical WHITE ALASKAN MALAMUTES (M’Loot line) they certainly remind me of Sigurd and Zombie:

White dogs occurred naturally in both M’Loot lines and Kotzebue lines but they were not preferred by breeders and were often culled (same attitudes exist today, the first white Champion was Ch Poker Flat's Frosty the Snowman CD WWPD WTD WLD who got his Champtionship in 1995).

#dogblr #breed splits #historical dogs #alaskan malamute #dog history #food for thought #there are plenty of show line dogs i think are nice though just throwing that out there #but the recent dogs are MEH to me #a continued series tbh #i could talk about this forEVER #long post #breed split

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africafreedomnet · 3 years

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Cameroon-Ambazonia-CHAN2020: Group B Action

DOUALA, 25 January 2021 – DR Congo and Congo-Brazzaville qualified Monday for the quarterfinals of the 2020 African National Champtionship ongoing in The Cameroons. DR Congo finished at the top of Group B with seven points from two wins and one draw, followed by Congo-Brazzaville, with four points from today’s win and one draw. A last minute goal by striker Obenza gave DR Congo the two-one…

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aimaimpointpoint · 6 years

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韓國模特 Park Si Hyun One Champtionship ring girl

#Park Si Hyun #韩国 Korea

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stufftippywrote · 7 years

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something is ending

There's a point around 2 a.m. where the Samwell campus ... well, it doesn't exactly die, but a hush falls upon the narrow streets and green spaces. Bitty feels it, like a curtain dropping over his senses. It's silent between him and Jack for now, out on the roof, but the quiet that surrounds them is new.

They've been talking for hours. At least two, maybe three. Jack's been unusually free with his words, telling Bitty this and that about his future, his hopes for a NCAA champtionship before he graduates, the teams that have courted him, and his considerations as to which offer to take. "It's strange," Jack said a minute ago. "It's all I've ever wanted, and now I'm this close to it. I spent so long trying to get here and now signing is really just around the corner."

"It's exciting," Bitty offered, though his own heart is drooping at the thought. He gets depressed every time he thinks about it. Something very special is ending, he thinks, and he can't hold onto it. No matter how hard he tries.

"Yeah." Jack shook his head. "But to really have offers on the table. It feels like I'm just dreaming it, still. Like I'm going to wake up and it'll still be years away."

"It's real," Bitty said solemnly. "And you've worked really hard to get here. You deserve this. You should be proud of yourself."

"Yeah." Jack breathed in, let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I do. I am. You're right."

And this is where they fell silent, thinking about futures and paths still untrod. Now, Bitty's heart hurts as he gazes shyly at Jack. Dear Lord, he's fallen so hard for this boy, and sometimes it seems impossible to live with. But right here, right now, it's so natural to just be with him. Talking, or not talking, enjoying the quiet of a late Samwell night, being together. It works. It works so well that, on nights like this, Bitty has to wonder if Jack doesn't feel just a little something, too.

Dangerous thoughts, and thoughts that will crush him if he lets their weight settle on his shoulders any deeper. Bitty shakes himself. "Well," he says, "I ought to ... there's class in the morning, and I should probably..."

"Yeah," Jack says. He turns, eyes meeting Bitty's in the dimness. "Yeah. Thanks, Bittle."

"For what?"

"For listening. And, I guess ... being there." His smile is thin, barely there, a sliver of moonlight.

"Well, sure, Jack." Bitty can feel a blush start to creep into his cheeks. "What are friends for?"

"Friends," Jack says, slowly, chewing over the word. "Yeah."

Bitty gets defensive. "Well, we are, now, aren't we? Or am I still that annoying little winger who won't stop talking?"

"Of course not." Jack's eyes glint. "You stopped talking for a good five minutes tonight. I was impressed."

"Oh, you." Bitty reaches out to shove him playfully. His hand lands on Jack's chest before he can think better, and ... oh, oh, dear. He completes the shove before he's locked in and unable to tear himelf away from the warmth under his fingertips.

Jack looks down briefly at the spot where Bitty's hand has been. He glances at Bitty's face next, brow furrowing. Bitty tries to gauge his expression. He's... puzzled? Or concerned?

It doesn't bear thinking about. "Well, good night, Jack," Bitty says, and eases into a crouch on the roof tiles.

"Bittle," Jack says, and there's a bit of surprise in his face now.

"What?" Bitty feigns annoyance. "I need my beauty sleep, you know." He shifts onto one knee, ready to stand.

"I know," Jack says. "I know, just..."

Bitty pauses. "What?"

In answer, Jack's hand lands on his shoulder.

Lands, and stays. Not patting, not moving, just ... there.

Bitty glances at it, then searches Jack's expression for a reason. "What?"

Jack swallows. "Just stay. Um. A little longer."

A spark leaps from Bitty's belly into his throat. He gulps it back down. Jack's looking at him with eyes that are pleading now, dark pupils with rims of blue that are almost black themselves in the dim light.

"Stay?" Bitty repeats, dumbly. He should resist. He should be angry. Does Jack know what he's doing? Asking Bitty to stay, creating the specter of hope that Bitty knows he can't afford to keep? Making Bitty feel like maybe, just maybe, there's something here, a full circle intead of the incomplete arc of flame that's been burning inside him for too long? It hurts, already it hurts, and it will hurt more tomorrow, looking back and thinking about what was, what could have been, and the nothing that eventually happened? "Jack," he says, trying to summon up some outrage.

"Please." The word is strange and small from Jack's lips. His hand is still pressed against Bitty's shoulder. "I don't ... don't want to go in just yet."

Bitty settles back down, legs dangling off the edge of the roof. Jack scoots in closer. His hand drops to Bitty's back. The warmth of his hand is shockingly intimate against the thin cotton of Bitty's shirt.

For a minute, they just sit there. Bitty closes his eyes, drinks in the sensation, then comes to his senses. He can't enjoy this. He can't afford to enjoy this.

He tries again. "Jack, we really should get to b--"

Jack slides his hand around to Bitty's waist and tugs.

Bitty falls all at once, clumsy, uneven. His head tips onto Jack's shoulder. His arm jams against Jack's chest, fingers scrabbling at Jack's thigh for a handhold. Jack doesn't jump, doesn't adjust -- just secures his fingers at Bitty's waist, holding him there.

Bitty's heart rockets in his chest. This is not new contact. It's not even surprising. They've been in close quarters before, pressed together on the couch watching a movie or hugging after a win, but oh God this feels different. The warmth of Jack's body is different, here against the chill of the night. Here in the quiet solitude with all the space in the world, Jack has pulled him closer. When they should be separating and saying their good nights and retreating into their own rooms, Jack wants him to stay right here. The knowledge beats through Bitty like a drum.

He wants to ask questions. He wants to know why, what it means. He can't. His heart is stuck in his throat and it's not letting any words out. Bitty tries to swallow it back down.

Jack turns his head. Presses a word into Bitty's hair. "Bittle."

Bitty feels the vibration of his own name against his skin. Prickles of warmth erupt there, on his neck, down his arms. "J-Jack?" he manages.

The answer is simple, and it's whispered into Bitty's hairline, almost his ear. "Thank you."

Thank you? Is this a thank-you? Is this Jack's way of showing affection to a friend? Disappointment sinks into Bitty's gut. This is a ruse after all. He should have known from the start that it wasn't going to be what he was hoping for.

"I-- Jack," he says, and his voice cracks. "It's okay, but-- this--" He pushes his hand against Jack's thigh, a feeble attempt to free himself.

"You've been a good friend," Jack says. The words chill Bitty like icicles, but there's something slow and unsure in Jack's tone, something that keeps Bitty hanging on the edge of the words, waiting.

"Friend?" he says, and in his own voice he hears the reflection of Jack's, earlier, puzzling over the same word. Is it possible ... could Jack have been ...

"Friend," Jack repeats, drawing out the word slowly, "but..." He sighs. "Sometimes I think..."

He doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, he layers his free hand over Bitty's.

A rush of hope and impulse sets Bitty's heartbeat racing again. "Sometimes you think ... what?" His throat tries to close around the words, but he forces them out, then swallows around a dry throat.

"I." Bitty doesn't look up, can't look up, but he knows Jack's expression anyway: confused, a bit of a frown, lips pursed around the next word he can't quite think of. "I like talking with you. It's easy, to talk to you. And ... when we get to talking and suddenly it's the middle of the night, I think..." He huffs out a soft breath. "Look, I'm not good at this. But I'm trying to say, I think there might be something ..."

"Something here?" Bitty fills in carefully. The drumming of his heart nearly drowns out the words. "With me? I mean ... with us?"

Jack makes a soft, surprised noise. Bitty lifts his head.

Jack's eyes reflect lamplight and stars. The softness of his gaze sends a shot of realization down Bitty's spine. It's here. That little something he'd thought, in his bolder moments, Jack must feel ... it's real, it's here. Jack feels it.

"If I said yes," Jack starts quietly, "would you--"

"Yes," Bitty says, before he can go on. "Jack, yes."

Jack's smile widens, then fades. He licks his lips and nods his head forward.

The seconds drag to minutes, to years, as the space between them drains away. Bitty wonders, in a panicked piece of his brain, if the kiss will ever happen. They're closer, closer, but still not...

there.

Bitty's eyes slip shut. The night fades to nothing. There's no space, no sound, just Jack's lips soft and wet on his, just Jack's breath against his face and Jack's hands steadying him. So this is a kiss, he thinks, and so this is how it feels when someone likes you back. And how will I feel when it's over?

When Jack pulls back, meets Bitty's gaze again, Bitty knows the answer: like I want it back.

"This is okay?" Jack's voice is tremulous, and in his question Bitty hears the one he's not asking. Can I really have this? Do I deserve this, too?

It is, Bitty realizes, the same question he's asking himself.

He smiles, wide and warm, then leans in again. Jack meets him halfway. The world hangs still around them, quiet and dark. Something is ending soon, but something else is beginning.

#fuck everything have a ficlet #zimbits #check please #stuff tippy wrote #omgcp #cp for ts #stultiloquentia #could i probably tighten this up? sure #do i want the instant gratification of posting too much? absolutely #also i need a frappu #so here have a ficlet bye

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mapleleafstrash · 7 years

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My Champion - William Nylander

A/N: Just thought I’d write a tiny imagine to celebrate William Nylander, along with Team Sweden’s gold medal victory at the IIHF World Champtionships.

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: William Nylander (Brief Alex Nylander, Mention of Mitch Marner)

Words: 1,893

Warnings: None

Even though you felt like you were slightly betraying your home country, you couldn’t help the cheer of joy that escaped past your lips when Sweden won the world championship. Your boyfriend of nearly two years, William, was now a gold certified champion.

You jumped up in celebration and immediately embraced your boyfriend’s brother Alex when Sweden beat Canada in the shootout to be declared the winner.

Laughing at your reaction, Michael, the patriarch of the Nylander family, wiped away the stray tear that fell down his cheek as he watched his eldest son celebrate the win by tackling the goalie and being mobbed by the rest of his team in a massive pile up.

You felt incredibly proud of Will, and your stomach swelled with pride. Looking towards Team Canada, you felt a slight twitch of sadness as they all stared down in shock and in disappointment. You joked to William the entire tournament that your home country would no doubt three-peat gold, but he had challenged that thinking, and captured the gold medal himself.

You noticed Mitch, Will’s teammate and your close friend, sitting on the bench with his head in his gloved hands. He was the one you felt the worst for. You hated that they both couldn’t play for the same team this time around. You wanted Mitch to be celebrated just as much due to the fantastic tournament he had himself. But unfortunately, he’d have to settle with silver, which was still incredibly impressive, but not the same as being hailed the champion. It was the, “you were great, just not the best,” award.

Steph, Mitch’s girlfriend, had been sitting in the row below you with Mitch’s family. She turned and flashed you a small, supportive smile, but you knew she was just being kind. You had flown over with her to Paris after you had finished your university exams and hung out with her on and off during the tournament. But with Sweden mostly playing in Cologne, and Canada mostly playing in Paris, that time had been limited.

Instead, you found yourself partnered with Alex for much of the trip. During times when William was busy with his teammates or his duties with the team, Alex and you had played tourists and had bonded over the past couple weeks.

“Y/N can you believe it?!” Alex exclaimed once he pulled away from you, jumping up and down in excitement.

You grinned and turned back towards the scene on the ice. The players from both squads had lined their respective blue lines, and the red carpet had been rolled out for the medal presenters. You clapped happily as both team’s goalies were given player of the game awards. They both deserved them.

However, you gasped in shock, your hand immediately covering your mouth when the PA announcer proclaimed the MVP of the entire World Championship Tournament as William Nylander.

Your blonde-haired boyfriend skated towards the chairman and accepted his award, while his team, along with the rest of arena erupted in cheers and applause. You couldn’t believe it. You knew Will had an impressive showing at the tournament but you never imagined he’d be presented with one of the most coveted awards.

“Aww Y/N don’t cry,” you heard Alex sigh, as he placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a side hug.

Michael turned to you and gave you a smile. He too had tears flowing now. You were so incredibly proud of William and couldn’t wait to celebrate with him.

Walking down into the bowels of the arena, you stood with William’s family as you waited for your boyfriend to show up. You knew he’d be a while due to the team celebrating, and you were fine with it. It was understandable after all. But you were surprised when Will showed up much sooner than any of you had anticipated.

You sent William a smile once your Y/E/C eyes locked with his baby blues. You took a step back once he approached your group to allow William to have some time with his family. After all, he had not only his Dad and brother, but all his younger sisters along with his Mom to greet, and they all wanted their own little moment with the oldest Nylander boy. You smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his family.

Finally, as he pulled away from his father’s embrace, William walked towards you with his trademark smirk pulling across his cherry coloured lips. Pulling you into a tight hug, you wrapped your arms over William’s shoulders and clasped your hands together. Pressing his lips against your temple, you melted into his embrace as you sighed in content.

“I’m so proud of you Will,” you told him, pulling him in closer.

“Even though I crushed Canada?” He asked, slight humour present in his tone.

“Well I wouldn’t say crushed, but yes, even though you beat Canada,” you giggled, before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Jag älskar dig,” William mumbled quietly, wanting to keep your moment private from his family. His words caused you to pull away slightly. Searching his eyes for a few moments, you couldn’t help but grin as William sent you his sweet closed-lip smile.

“I love you too,” you proclaimed, before you felt Will crash his lips against yours.

Pulling away, you squealed when William suddenly lifted you up and spun the both of you around. You heard a few laughs come from his family as they watched the two of you twirl around.

“We’re going to head back to the hotel sweetie, we’ll see you in the morning?” William’s mother spoke up, causing your boyfriend’s attention to be drawn towards her.

He nodded before sending her a grin, “Of course mamma, I’ll see you guys in the morning,”

She smiled and bid the both of you goodbye before the Nylander clan began their journey out of the arena.

“Did you want to just meet me back at the hotel?” you asked, causing William to flash his eyes back towards you. He raised an eyebrow causing you to chuckle, “I just assumed you’d be out celebrating with the team,”

“You’re okay with that?” William asked, and you nodded, “of course babe, you deserve it. I completely understand,”

“I just feel bad. I mean we’re in Cologne and I’ve had next to no time to spend with you,” William spoke, looking away with a sigh.

“Hey,” you muttered, placing a reassuring hand onto your boyfriend’s shoulder, “It’s okay Will. We’re here for you and your hockey, not to be on vacation. Alex and I explored a lot over the past few days so don’t even worry about it,”

“You’re sure?” William questioned you again.

“Absolutely,” you nodded, “go have fun with your team, I’ll be waiting for you back at the hotel,” you said, before stepping onto your tippy toes to place your lips onto his.

William’s hands immediately placed themselves onto your hips as he kissed you back. Nipping at your lips playfully, you giggled and pulled away. William sent you a quick wink causing your heart to flutter. “Go have fun with your teammates Will, I’ll see you when you get back,” you then promised, giving Will one last hug before departing the arena to head back to your hotel.

About thirty minutes later you found yourself tucked in bed with hockey highlights playing on the television, illuminating the dark hotel room. You’d been texting Steph, and had planned to meet up the following morning for brunch with her and Mitch. You figured Will wouldn’t mind, and you had wanted to spend some time with him before your flight left the next day.

William would be travelling back to Sweden with his family, while you would be journeying off back to Canada with Steph and the Marner’s the following night. Even though you and Will would be going your separate ways, you knew he’d be back in Toronto in a little over a month to start training with some of the other Leafs. You were going to miss him like crazy, but he had promised you would both facetime everyday and that not a day would go by without him texting you ‘good morning,’ and calling you to say ‘goodnight.’

Before you knew it, your eyes were becoming heavy as the day’s emotional roller coaster had finally caught up to you.

“Y/N, baby I’m back,”

You blinked your eyes open as you felt William lightly shake your shoulder. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it showed that it was about half past two in the morning.

“Hey,” you mumbled, causing William to chuckle before he leant down to press his lips against your forehead.

“I’m just going to have a quick shower, okay?” William told you, and you nodded while stifling a yawn.

Laying in bed just staring at the ceiling you couldn’t help but sigh. You were exhausted and couldn’t wait to fall asleep locked in William’s arms. This was only the second night during the entire tournament you both could share a room together and you had missed your cuddle sessions with your goofy boyfriend.

While William was in the shower, you turned you head towards the closed bathroom door and noticed the new shiny piece of hardware that glimmered on the opposite night stand. Shifting over in the bed, you rolled over and gently grasped the medal. Sitting up, you examined the golden medallion, your fingertips brushing over the engraved writing.

“Cool, isn’t it?” William’s voice asked, catching you off guard. You hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

“It’s beautiful,” you spoke, still staring at the gold medal held in your hands.

William chucked as he quickly fluffed his blonde hair dry with his towel, “Nah, that’s you babe,”

You flushed, shaking your head and placing his medallion back onto the nightstand. You shifted back over onto the far side of the mattress once William approached, allowing him to scoot in under the covers. Immediately wrapping his arms around you, Will pulled you into him and sighed in content. Snuggling deeper into your pillow you couldn’t help but stare at the boy laying next to you.

William smiled at you, and reached over to tuck your fallen hair back behind your ear. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

You smiled, “the fact that you’re a world champion,”

“Champion huh?” he questioned, and you nodded.

“How do you say champion in Swedish?” You asked, causing him to smirk. William had slowly begun speaking to you in his native language and was now much more comfortable sharing it with you. At first he had been hesitant, but now he was more than glad to teach you simple words here and there.

“Mästare,” he spoke, making sure to bring out and emphasize his swedish accent.

“Okay,” you said, pursing your lips and trying to think of how to mimic his speach and form a proper sentence. William always found this amusing.

“Du är min mästare,” you told him, and William sent you a soft smile.

“I’m your champion huh?” he asked, as he placed his hand onto your cheek in a gentle caress.

“Always,” you muttered, causing William to grin. William then leant over and kissed your lips softly, silently promising the same.

#maple leafs imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #william nylander #william nylander imagines #my writing

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