97 percent sure

honorary-penderwicks  asked:

Here's a thing I just re-watched civil war and when tony says "you're done stay down" peter starts to get up and then grabs the side of his chest the same way I do when I go a little overboard while binding. I bet before that fight he had never done so much physically and I also bet that the suit didn't have a binder in it yet because tony didn't know so he wore it without thinking about the exertion. Anyways just another trans peter thought I had thanks

peter doesn’t usually like binding bc his breasts are small enough that if he wears a oversized shirts and enough layers you can hardly tell he isn’t totally flat chested, but he still brings his binder with him to berlin just in case.

and he wasn’t going to bind during the fight bc his homemade suit is super baggy, but then tony makes him such an awesome suit…. but it’s skin tight. but it’s so COOL. and he knows it’s dumb, he KNOWS that, but he decides to bind. he reasons it’ll be okay because of his advanced healing factor, and besides — he’s spider-man!! he’s like 100 percent sure that he’s gonna kick captain america’s butt without even trying, let alone enough to feel the effects of his binder. 97 percent sure.

but hours later he’s laying on the tarmac of the airport, tony has just flown off effectively benching him from the fight, and he can’t move. everytime he tries to sit up his ribs feel like they’re gonna crack, if they haven’t already. and suddenly he’s aware of how lightheaded he is. he’s going to pass out. shit, how did he not notice this before?? it must have been all the adrenaline?? he didn’t know, didn’t have the energy to even think about it. he tried to sit up one more time, and that’s what caused his vision to spot up and go black.

he wakes up in his hotel room, momentarily confused about his surroundings. but then he remembers he’s in berlin and he relaxes back into the bed. but then he remembers the fight, that giant ant dude (hah, oxymoron), he remembers mr. stark flying off, he remembers not being able to breathe. but he can breathe now…

he tries to bolt upright but a sharp pain in his side makes him hiss and fall back to the bed.

“well, good morning, moron. or should i say good afternoon,” tony says, sitting in the chair on the other end of the room. he looks bored, scrolling through his phone. he also looks way more beaten up than he did when peter last saw him.

“how long have i been out?” peter says. he wants to cry. tony has to know. he has to. he wonders how many others know.

“several hours. oxygen deprivation and two cracked ribs can sometimes have that effect. but don’t worry, your healing factor is off the charts, almost on par with caps. you’ll be all healed by morning, if not sooner.” he sounds kinda of interested, and in any other situation peter would be tripping over himself to talk science about all the mutations he got from the spider bite, but right now all he can think about is his chest.

“who found me?”

“natasha.”

“black widow?”

tony chuckles. “i forget that’s what she calls herself. how pretentious.”

peter laughs humorlessly and ends up coughing because it hurts. “she’s pretentious? have you met yourself?”

tony looks up from his phone then mumbles, “you and pepper would get along.”

“where is it?” peter says, looking up to the ceiling. he feels himself starting to cry, he hates it.

“where’s what? oh you mean that thing that was on your chest? that had to be cut off.”

and peter feels himself choke on a sob before he can stop himself, it sends a shooting pain up his side. “that was my only binder.”

tony whistles and peter looks to him blearily through the tears welling up in his eyes. once they make eye contact tony gestures to the table next to peter’s bed. confused, peter moves his head only to have his eyes widen. some tears overflow against his will.

on the table are four high quality binders, each a different color, two of them are short binders and the other two are modeled more like tank tops.

tony stands up and walks over to the end of peter’s bed. “natasha knows, just natasha and i. sorry about that, but it couldn’t really be helped. but if it makes you feel any better natasha couldn’t care less, and even if she did she wouldn’t tell anyone.” he rolls his eyes and scowls. “she’s good at keeping information to herself.”

peter’s kind of dazed. he didn’t expect this.

“do you care?”

tony shrugs. “i don’t care that you’re trans, what i do care about is your health. you can’t wear your binders when you fight, peter. c'mon you’re a smart kid, you have to know that.”

peter sighs, kind of relieved, kind of stunned, kind of happy, kind of sad, and very tired. “i don’t fight in binders, i only did it this time because of the new suit. it’s so tight… they would have seen.”

tony makes a “hmmm” noise as he thinks, then he abruptly claps his hands together and moves towards the door. “i’ll sort that out. but right now i have places to be. happy is right next door if you need anything, and even though your healing factor is incredible i still wouldn’t over exert yourself. good job out there, kid.”

peter says thanks, but tony is already making his way out the door. everything feels kind of surreal. he looks at the binders and smiles.

Just sitting here waiting for an Aquamarine AU, Klance fic where Lance is the mermaid who goes on land to prove to his parents that love exists.

Hunk and Pidge are the best friends, aka Hailey and Claire (except no one moves to Australia please, that always broke my heart)

Lance sees Nyma, aka the popular, pretty girl on the beach and thinks she has to be the one (but she’s really not obvs cus she’s a b*tch)

Now we scrap the main guy from Aquamarine because he isn’t really like Keith.

Keith is this lonely kid that goes to high school with H&P, but they’ve never really talked. He lives with his brother Shiro and his girlfriend Allura that own some shop on the beach and he works there part time with them. He doesn’t really have friends and somehow gets roped into a weird friendship with Lance, Hunk and Pidge (they come to the shop with a bumbling Lance who is enamored with all this human stuff??) I don’t know how he gets involved, but he does. 

They tell him about the wish and that Lance needs Nyma to fall in love with him if he doesn’t wanna be married off. He agrees to help because he wants a wish.

Now you can guess where this is going…

In the process of them trying to set Lance up with Nyma in time for the end of summer bash, Keith starts to fall in love with him, and Lance too except he doesn’t understand his feelings because what is love? they don’t have it in the water!!! Commence kind of mutual pining where Keith is miserable for a couple of days because Nyma doesn’t deserve Lance and Lance is really confused with his own feelings. His nails are permanently purpley and pink, and he’s 97 percent sure it’s not for Nyma. 


You guys, Aquamarine is the shit, fight me on it. I may have just turned 21, but you’ll have to pry it away from my cold dead hands. No but seriously, someone write this please. I would, I maybe could, but I’m already neglecting two other fics. 

Originally posted by anno-m

anonymous asked:

I'm 97 percent sure the crop top you made is from second life

I’m 100% sure that I didn’t steal anything from second life. I can create what I want by myself. 

I TOOK MY BOSS' DAUGHTER TO A TAYLOR SWIFT CONCERT

There are some things that I, as a 25-year-old male, can never fully understand. A few examples: childbirth, the Disney channel, Forever 21, bangs, a world where John Travolta isn’t creepy, sexy vampires, and, among many other things, Taylor Swift.

I’m not saying Taylor Swift has no appeal to men over the age of 18 (Ryan Adams has made it very clear that she does), but I think it’s fair to say I — a wholly unglamorous creature — am not exactly her demographic. When I was 15, the only person telling me they loved me was my mom. And I believed her.

So trying to get to the bottom of the Swift-mania that’s swept our country over the past year on my own would be a lot like having an iguana write a book about the Ottoman Empire. To dig into the mountain of ice cream that is Taylor Swift, I need help.

Enter the 12-year-old daughter of my editor in chief, AKA my T-Swift Sherpa. Let’s call her Caroline.

The two of us are currently sitting in my Mazda on the way to the American Airlines Arena listening to a Taylor Swift mixtape I made earlier in the day.

I don’t hang out with 12-year-olds a whole lot, so I’m not totally sure where to start. Track two of my mixtape comes on, Swift’s 2008 single “Fifteen.” I tell Caroline it’s my favorite Swift song, and she nods politely, though, internally, I’m sure she’s thinking, Dude, you have a beard. Stop it.

Calling Caroline a Taylor Swift fan is like calling Taylor Swift successful. It’s an understatement. I ask her to rank herself on a scale of one to ten in Swift fandom.

“Ten million.”

I’m out of my league.

“I did some studying, just to let you know,” she tells me as we pull onto Biscayne Boulevard. I ask her for some pertinent Taylor facts, and she takes a deep breath.

Taylor Swift’s favorite show is Grey’s Anatomy. Her lucky number is 13 because she was born on December 13 (1989, obviously). She has two cats, named Meredith and Olivia. She got her big break during a gig at Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. The first person to teach her how to play guitar was a computer repairman. Her mother was diagnosed with cancer last year, and she has one brother named Austin.

On the walk to the arena, tweens dart around me and the cops directing traffic seem more on edge than I’ve ever seen them before. I suddenly understand why children can be so effective in horror movies, and I decide elementary-school teachers should be paid in diamonds, by the pound.

We get past a pretty stringent security line with metal detectors and head off to find our seats. On the way, a tiny girl waddles by us inside a box carved and painted to look like the Empire State Building. She looks like a Boxtroll, and I lean toward Caroline to find out if this is simply a child fond of iconic architecture or if I’m missing something here. “‘Welcome to New York.’ It’s a Taylor Swift song.”

I feel like I have my own personal translator.

Later we’ll watch the same girl work her way down a flight of stairs gingerly, guided by a friend, where she’ll take her spot on the floor next to the stage, her pointy needle head swaying back and forth in the middle of the crowd the entire night.


Before we take our seats, Caroline wants to get a Taylor Swift shirt. The merchandise booth is less a merchandise mecca and more the water scene from Mad Max: Fury Road. There are at least 45 child/parent duos with surprisingly good fundamentals working in tandem to box out competitors for shirts ranging in price from $30 to $45 (a $50 blanket too). After a few minutes of taking 6-year-old elbows to the thigh, I decide we should take our seats and try later, and also that, if we’re handing out diamonds, elementary-school cafeteria ladies deserve a few as well.

We eventually will get the shirt, though it’s not much easier once the show ends.

Swift is supposed to go on at 8:30 p.m. sharp, and at 8:41, I start to plan my escape route in case these petite maniacs turn violent. I’m thinking I grab the littlest one to my right standing on top of her chair and start swinging her like a tennis racket as I lead Caroline toward the nearest exit, but thankfully, just then, the lights cut out.

It’s hard to describe the sound of 20,000 teen girls losing their shit in unison. It hits you in the stomach and works its way down your legs and out through your feet into the floor. It’s beautiful and terrifying, like a tornado made of glitter.

Swift pops out from below the stage, wearing sunglasses and looking flawless as always. She opens with “Welcome to New York,” and I look down toward the floor to see the tip of the miniature Empire State vibrating like a seismograph.

Each seat in the room had a rubber wristband taped to it. The bands light up when Swift hits the stage, alternating between blue and red depending on the mood of the song.

Swift runs through a combination of hits — “Blank Space,” “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Twenty minutes into the show, it feels as if no one’s taken a breath. Caroline has morphed into a small whirling dervish, and I’m 97 percent sure I won’t have a job tomorrow when I show up on my boss’ doorstep with nothing but a charred pile of hair and tennis shoes saying, “I… I don’t know what happened.”


As things reach a fever pitch, Swift finally breaks pace to address the crowd. My theory is these wristbands are meant to monitor our heart rates so a doctor can signal Swift when she needs to stop singing or else risk 20,000 pocket-sized heart attacks.

It’s become routine for Swift to bring out celebrity guests at most of her concerts, and she gets the crowd ready for the first of what will apparently be multiple surprises in the night. Caroline and I were speculating earlier and decided Pitbull might make sense, maybe Gloria Estefan.

We were kind of right. The first celeb to step out is Dwyane Wade. The crowd goes wild, though at this point, there’s really no one for whom they wouldn’t go wild. Swift could bring out Charles Manson and the screams would be loud enough to shatter glass.

Wade says some nice things about Taylor before giving her a Heat jersey and handing her back the microphone. The night’s next two other celebs will be Pitbull and Ricky Martin. Mr. 305 sings “Give Me Everything” while chasing Swift down the catwalk like an alligator. Swift subs in for Ne-Yo’s verse marvelously and then duets with Ricky Martin on “Livin’ La Vida Loca.”

Caroline’s not familiar with that one, but she dances along regardless.

Watching Swift onstage is like watching Tyson in his prime. She’s operating at humanity’s highest caliber. She’s perfect and mistake-free but still somehow feels human and vulnerable. Girls are holding their hands up, palms open toward the ceiling.

On the ride home, Caroline will say, “Everyone’s just there to praise the queen.” She’s right.

After Pitbull hops offstage, Swift walks to the end of the catwalk that cuts across the arena floor and, after what I’m sure is urgent doctor’s orders, slows things down again. The platform disconnects from the rest of the floor and raises Swift up about 30 feet in the air.


The singer launches into what Caroline tells me is “the ‘Clean’ speech.” It’s about cyberbulling and being confident, ignoring mean people, and being nice to everyone else. After she finishes, she plays the song “Clean,” and suddenly I understand why it’s called “the ‘Clean’ speech” and, not for the first or last time that night, I feel intellectually inferior to a 12-year-old.

The raised platform spins Swift around like those machines they use to prepare astronauts for intense g-force, and I’m pretty sure Swift is preparing for a show on the moon, which is probably already sold out.

As she spins around to give folks a better view, she seems to be making eye contact with everyone all at once, and, I think, for the first time that night, I start to get it.

What’s behind all of this?

That’s been my main question going into the show, and it’s one Caroline has patiently tried to answer for the past two hours. Artists who tap so deeply into the vein of our planet’s youth are rare, only bounding along once or twice a generation. Their music doesn’t have to sound the same, but they do have to share one thing in common: Fans need to relate to them not as celebrities but as people.

So what’s Swift’s secret? Here’s an attempt at an answer from a man who’s been hanging out with a tween for several hours, which has to be the equivalent of, like, a bachelor’s degree in Swiftology.

In the realm of our nation’s middle and high schools, Swift is that most rarest of things: the popular girl who doesn’t shun you from her lunch table but offers you a seat, not taking no for an answer until the two of you are giggling over a slice of pepperoni pizza. She is relentless in her inclusion. And it all seems so genuine that you never question whether she’s merely doing it to win the senior superlative of Friendliest.

It’s this that elevates her past artists like Rihanna or Katy Perry, who would no doubt show up to prom in the cool limo, reeking of watermelon vodka with college boys named Trent as their dates.


I float this hypothesis by Caroline on the way home, and she thinks for a moment before agreeing. “Yeah,” she says, though she doesn’t seem too impressed. Trying to get a Taylor Swift fan to analyze why they like Taylor Swift is like trying to get someone to explain why they think a joke is funny.

But Swift is just so accessible in a way so few megastars are. If Beyoncé is Jesus Christ, then Taylor Swift is Pope Francis, a more tactile figure who will reach out and kiss your hand rather than just be worshiped from a distance.

Caroline likes this analogy better. “She’s down-to-earth too,” she says. “She actually interacts with her fans.”

I ask her if she and Swift would be friends if they went to the same school. She thinks so.

I do too.

A very funny and awesome review.
I'm 97 percent sure that Tokyo ghoul's 3rd season

And all consecutive seasons, is going to suck(I mean as long as it’s in studio Pierrot’s hands), and yet I’m playing their game

I’ll probably watch it

Mostly because I like animated kagunes

But so help me GOD, if Studio Pierrot makes Mutsuki Tooru a cisgender girl, I will be fucking

anonymous asked:

After watching upstate I'm 97 percent sure Lucas chose maya.

I go back and forth on this.

But when I dump EVERYTHING out on the table I think what’s going on here is that Lucas loves both girls equally, doesn’t understand the difference in terms of HOW (he clearly knows he feels differently, but I don’t think he gets what the differences MEAN), and ultimately he’s going to do whatever he thinks is “the right thing.” Which means Riley. No question if that last bit is where his head is.

Like, the substance of his answers during the jellybean stuff and his subsequent behavior would seem to indicate Maya. And GMTri made it pretty clear the character has got a major “supposed to” vs “want to” kind of a thing going on here, I think. His reaction to Maya at the end of Upstate is very 🤔 as well.

BUT: if we’re right about the girls being driven by their flaws right now in a big way (insecure, broken), then maybe Lucas is being driven by his as well. Mr. Perfect does the “right thing.” He does what’s he’s “supposed to do.” So, between the other boys telling him to make a good decision because it affects all of them + the whole “universe said” thing + he’s wearing purple all through True Maya & SL2 + his whole “doesn’t good have to win?” thing from New Teacher (I think he believes on some level that he MUST be with the “good” one and not the “evil” one 🙄 because of his own fears about backsliding)…I don’t know. When you put alllllll that on the table I think his decision might’ve been Riley. Not because he’s figured out that she’s “who he truly loves” (can’t do that without testing it out), but because he HAS TO make a choice because the situation is untenable for everyone. Everything we know about this character so far suggests that when he’s presented with a “supposed to” and a “want to” option, Mr. Perfect will do what’s expected of him (see the bull ride).

And don’t take that “supposed to” to mean the guy doesn’t have feelings for Riley. He does, but as GMTri showed us, they’re about her basically swooning over him like he’s her favorite celebrity/being her supportive self TWO YEARS AGO + a very surface level trait that everyone who knows her loves about her + his belief that she fell on him by coincidence (which isn’t actually true but okay). That’s allllll very quicksandish in terms of romantic foundation, tbqh. But that doesn’t change what LUCAS thinks he feels.

He dawdles for QUITE a while before actually going ahead with it of course (it takes four episodes between the decision and doing anything about it), but that could simply be a product of wanting to be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN he’s not going to hurt Maya. Because he could NEVER hurt her. Because he’s ALSO got feelings for her (based on personal stuff and who she is), which are not going to simply *poof* away into nothing just because the current mess is resolved.

moesha  asked:

I'm actually rly happy that we didn't get Lucas' actual decision and instead got Maya's "you pick Riley" !!! Also I think his face was a telling response to that ;)

Oh my gosh, I’m honestly having the worst time trying to guess this. I go back and forth on it soooo much. I watch Upstate and then I remember True Maya and I am just about convinced it was her—I think a lot of other people will be too.

But then I think about all that purple they have him wearing in TM and SL2…and then I think about SL2 and I’m not sure anymore. It’s all such a mindf*ck.

(I know most people would hate that, but it’s actually really fun for me? I like a good puzzle. 😂 I need SL1, man.)

Related: http://theowldetective.tumblr.com/post/146776114471/after-watching-upstate-im-97-percent-sure-lucas