tbh it always confuses me when people try to write Damas as Serious and Stoic, because like… this is a man who 100% canonically:
wears a skirt with slits up to the hips, exposing his bare, perfectly smooth thighs
probably implanted(?) a crown into his skull, purely for the ~aesthetic~ (or alternatively: glues them on every day?)
takes pecker as his ‘advisor’, despite clearly being a competent leader on his own, and no one questions it (implying that the people of Spargus are used to him doing weird shit like this)
is literally the dad equivalent of tsundere in his interactions with Jak. THE BIGGEST TSUNDADRE.
Pecker: 'oh, are you beginning to care?’ Damas: 'my concern was for the artifacts!’
and my favourite: 'you make me proud! …that…. our training system is so good…’
drives his car through a wall with perfect dramatic timing, casually mowing down several enemies that were about to kill Jak before referring to himself as an entire army
…which comes after he specifically advised Jak against being rash; when Jak calls him on the fact that he ignored his own advice about not taking enemies head-on, Damas responds with 'it depends on how hard your skull is’
actually emotes a lot? like just look at his shit-eating grin as he drops stupid one-liners, or the 'oh shit I fucked up D8’ face when Jak says he never knew his dad; this man is not stoic at all.
Me: I feel like the body-swap trope is so underused in pop culture. I’d love a bodyswap storyline that treated the issue with great nuance. Imagine having a detailed, long-term plot, and also effects and consequences for the characters. Them not tricking each other with it, but helping each other work through it.
He starts off as a phantom presence. Mysteriously open doors. Convenient black outs. Things short circuiting when Ladybug needs them to.
She thinks it’s the magic until Tikki tells her otherwise.
Thus her first impression of him is “electric.”
Adrien in his room, fingers steepled, the glow of his computer monitors reflected in his glasses. Someday he’ll be there for her in person. Someday.
At one point some person claims they have a video of Ladybug de-transforming and will reveal it to the public. Adrien says “nope,” hacks the phone, and deletes the video.
(He will protect her identity. Even from himself.)
Time passes. He’s confident enough to sneak out of the house during akuma attacks. He follows the Ladyblog and Twitter feeds to know where the attacks are happening.
He helps his Lady from internet cafes. Always somewhere nearby. His heart races when he’s lucky enough to catch glimpses of her.
Ladybug is intrigued by her helpful ghost. One day, she decides to talk to him. “You can see me, can’t you?” she asks. No response at first… then an electronic billboard nearby flickers, its advertisement replaced by a pixelated black cat, snickering. Then all the billboards in the vicinity come to life with snickering black cats before blacking out again.
Marinette goes home, feeling for the first time since she’s started superheroing that she’s not alone.
After the next battle, Adrien is surprised to receive a Skype call from an unknown number. “Did you know I can use this magic yo-yo to make phone calls?” his Lady asks. “All I had to do was tap it on the video feed you’d hacked into. Pretty cool, huh?”
Adrien, trying very hard not to lose his shit. Losing it anyway. Having to very quietly recover it before speaking. “It’s too bad we can’t all have such convenient tools at our disposal, My Lady.”
From that point on, they communicate verbally.
But it’s still another couple of months before Adrien, tricked out and muscular, starts fighting crime during his little trips outside the mansion.
This vigilantism of course attracts Ladybug’s attention. When they finally meet in person, she can’t believe it’s him. He confirms it by calling her on his nifty new baton.
Ladybug doesn’t approve.
It’s one thing to help from a distance, but he could get seriously hurt and a motorcycle?? Did he have any sense of self preservation??? hONestLY.
Adrien demonstrates that he’s a valuable asset. Ladybug is #stubborn. Lots of bickering ensues. Then he flat out saves her life one night and she really can’t keep fighting him on the subject anymore.
They patrol together. Fight together. He still does hacking jobs when the moment calls for it. They share quiet evenings where he talks about his life and she listens, sympathizes.
Watching him fight, Ladybug remembers her first impression of him: “electric.”
He’s electric. Every accidental brush of skin is like touching a live wire. His eyes send little jolts down her spine. She’s drawn, helplessly, inevitably, into his arms.
Next time he gets hurt on the job, he doesn’t understand why she’s so angry. He thought they were past this. Then she grabs him by the front of his leather jacket and pulls him into a hard kiss and everything is clear.
She calls him stupid. He kisses her, more gently this time.
(The gentle doesn’t last very long.)
Adrien is desperate to know her without the mask. Ladybug’s duty prevents her from revealing her civilian identity.
And that is where the all the angst comes from. :D
Lamborghini Diablo made famous for featuring in Jamiroquai’s nineties
hit single, Cosmic Girl, went for sale on Auto Trader this week, and as
the name ‘Diablo’ suggests, it’s one hell of a car.
viola-metallic coloured Lamborghini – priced at £549,995 and one of only
16 right-hand-drive models – was one of two identical cars that
featured in the 1996 music video. The first was written-off following a
crash on the video set and had to be replaced. The car currently
advertised on Auto Trader, replaced the damaged Diablo, but also had an
unfortunate incident of its own. During the filming a precision camera
fell from a height, knocking out the car’s windscreen, but famously Jay
Kay decided to drive the car for the remainder of the filming without
any front windscreen protection.
Commodified fantasy takes no risks: it invents nothing, but imitates and trivializes. It proceeds by depriving the old stories of their intellectual and ethical complexity, turning their action to violence, their actors to dolls, and their truth-telling to sentimental platitude. Heroes brandish their swords, lasers, wands, as mechanically as combine harvesters, reaping profits. Profoundly disturbing moral choices are sanitized, made cute, made safe. The passionately conceived ideas of the great storytellers are copied, stereotyped, reduced to toys, molded in bright-colored plastic, advertised, sold, broken, junked, replaceable, interchangeable.
What the commodifiers of fantasy count on and exploit is the insuperable imagination of the reader, child or adult, which gives even these dead things life–of a sort, for a while.
Ursula K. Le Guin, from the Foreword of “Tales from Earthsea”
In the years since I began to write about Earthsea I’ve changed, of course, and so have the people who read the books. All times are changing times, but ours is one of massive, rapid moral and mental transformation. Archetypes turn into millstones, large simplicities get complicated, chaos becomes elegant, and what everybody knows is true turns out to be what some people used to think.
It’s unsettling. For all our delight in the impermanent, the entrancing flicker of electronics, we also long for the unalterable. We cherish the old stories for their changelessness. Arthur dreams eternally in Avalon. Bilbo can go “there and back again,” and “there” is always the beloved familiar Shire. Don Quixote sets out forever to kill a windmill… So people turn to the realms of fantasy for stability, ancient truths, immutable simplicities.
And the mills of capitalism provide them. Supply meets demand. Fantasy becomes a commodity, an industry.
Commodified fantasy takes no risks: it invents nothing, but imitates and trivialises. It proceeds by depriving the old stories of their intellectual and ethical complexity, turning their action to violence, their actors to dolls, and their truth- telling to sentimental platitude. Heroes brandish their swords, lasers, wands, as mechanically as combine harvesters, reaping profits. Profoundly disturbing moral choices are sanitized, made cute, made safe. The passionately conceived ideas of the great story-tellers are copied, advertised, sold, broken, junked, replaceable, interchangeable.
What the commodifiers of fantasy count on and exploit is the insuperable imagination of the reader, child or adult, which gives even these dead things life—of a sort, for a while.
Imagination like all living things lives now, and it lives with, from, on true change. Like all we do and have, it can be co-opted and degraded; but it survives commercial and didactic exploitation. The land outlasts the empires. The conquerors may leave desert where there was forest and meadow, but the rain will fall, the rivers will run to the sea. The unstable, mutable, untruthful realms of Once-upon-a-time are as much a part of human history and thought as the nations in our kaleidoscopic atlases, and some are more enduring.
We have inhabited both the actual and the imaginary realms for a long time. But we don’t live in either place the way our parents or ancestors did. Enchantment alters with age, and with the age.
We know a dozen different Arthurs now, all of them true. The Shire changed irrevocably even in Bilbo’s lifetime. Don Quixote went riding out to Argentina and met Jorge Luis Borges there. Plus c'est la même chose, plus ça change.
It’s been a joy to me to go back to Earthsea and find it still there, entirely familiar, and yet changed and still changing. What I thought was going to happen isn’t what’s happening, people aren’t who—or what—I thought they were, and I lose my way on islands I thought I knew by heart.
So these are reports of my explorations and discoveries: tales from Earthsea for those who have liked or think they might like the place, and who are willing to accept these hypotheses:
authors and wizards are not always to be trusted:
nobody can explain a dragon.
100 things that Robin (Dick Grayson) is no longer allowed to do:
Not allowed to watch TV while on patrol.
Not even if it’s a slow night.
My proper title in the field is “Robin” not “The Fun One,” “The Guy With a Sense of Humor,” “Smart and Handsome,” “Fashionista,” “Sexy Pants,” “Robin’ Your Heart,” or anything but “Robin.”
Not allowed to threaten anyone with “Romany magic.”
Not allowed to challenge anyone’s disbelief in said magic by asking for personal items.
Not allowed to get any body altering-surgeries, except if absolutely necessary for preservation of life. 6a) “Necessary for preservation of life” applies only when judged to be so by an adult authority figure.
Captain Marvel does not qualify as an adult authority figure.
Not allowed to play “assassin” with a suction-cup dart pistol and any member of the GPCD or JLA.
Not allowed to add classmates I dislike to the Bat-Computer villain database. 9a) Not even if they’re bullies.
Not allowed to print “Batman-approved” stickers and sell them to supplement my allowance. 10a) Not allowed to print “Bat-approved” stickers and sell them to supplement my allowance. 10b) Not allowed to print “Robin-approved” stickers and sell them to supplement my allowance. 10c) Not even if I do approve the product. 10d) Not allowed to print stickers.
Not allowed to monetize my crime-fighting persona in any way, shape, or form.
Not allowed out of my bedroom when President Luthor visited Gotham.
God may not contradict any of my orders. 13a) No deity may contradict any of my orders. 13b) No mythical creature may contradict any of my orders.
May no longer perform my “Bobbin’ Robin Dance” while in uniform. 14a) May no longer perform my “Bobbin’ Robin Dance.”
May not call any member of the GCPD or JLA unflattering names, even if I’m right. 15a) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
Must not taunt extra-terrestrials any more.
Must attempt not to antagonize extra-terrestrial ambassadors.
Must never ask Batman if he’s been smoking crack. 18a) Due to the very real possibility of an unknowingly drugged Batman, however, I may run blood tests at my discretion. 18b) “At my discretion” does not mean whenever I’m ticked off at Batman. 18c) I am not permitted to run a blood test without the knowledge, approval, and cooperation of Alfred or an adult member of the JLA. 18d) Green Lantern Hal Jordan’s knowledge, approval, and cooperation is not sufficient in order to run a blood test.
Not allowed to train stray dogs to follow Batman and Robin.
I do not have “Samson-like powers” and for as long as I live under Bruce Wayne’s roof I am required to keep my hair cut to a reasonable length. 20a) Alfred Pennyworth is the sole judge of what constitutes “a reasonable length.”
Must not tell any member of the GCPD or JLA that I am smarter than they are, especially if it’s true. 21a) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
Must never confuse rational extraterrestrials with extraterrestrial plants, animals, or rock formations.
Never tell Martian Manhunter that “We’re gonna conquer Mars!”
Don’t tell alien abduction jokes in front of extraterrestrial members of the JLA, even if they’re really funny.
Never take the batteries out of Alfred’s alarm clock (Even if I want to sleep in on the weekend).
The Green Lanterns, Green Arrow, and Martian Manhunter are not “After me frosted lucky charms.”
Not allowed to wake my teammates by repeatedly banging on the head with a bag of trash. If I do I deserve whatever I get.
Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions. 28a) Not allowed to delegate any of my responsibilities to sock puppets.
Not allowed to chew gum on patrol. 29a) Not allowed to chew gum in bed. 29b) Not allowed to chew gum.
Can’t have flashbacks to wars I was not in.
It’s “Dr. Thompkins,” not “Dr. Feelgood.”
Not allowed to ask for the day off on the basis that the world is going to end. 32a) Not even if the world is going to end.
I do not have super-powers. 33a) I do not need to inform criminals that I do not have super-powers.
Motivational posters are not allowed in the Bat-cave.
Face paint is not a mask.
I am not authorized to officiate a wedding.
I am not authorized to fire members of the GCPD or JLA.
I am not authorized to fire Batman.
Not allowed to trade Bat equipment for “magic beans.”
Not allowed to sell magic beans while on patrol. 40a) Not allowed to sell magic beans.
May not make posters depicting the failings of any adult authority figure in my life. 41a) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
Batman’s decisions do not need to be ratified by a ¾ majority.
Evil clowns are not a joke and I will not tell Batman or Alfred that there is one under my bed unless there is actually an evil clown under my bed.
There is no “Anti-Mime campaign” and I do not need to paint my face in solidarity.
I may not wear a tinfoil hat while on patrol unless informed otherwise.
I am not authorized to prescribe medication.
I may not trade Batman, Alfred, or any member of the JLA or GCPD to any foreign entity. 47a) Extraterrestrials qualify as a foreign entity.
I may not file for excused absences with my school on the grounds that “I was kicking serious bad-guy butt.” Even though it’s true.
The bottom half of my Robin uniform is not optional. 49a) The top half of my Robin uniform is not optional. 49b) No part of my Robin uniform is optional. I picked it out, I have to wear it.
Not allowed to quote Dr. Seuss to Martian Manhunter as “The greatest earth poet ever to live.”
Not allowed to ask extraterrestrial members of the JLA about the “Giant Space Ants.”
I am not to take orders from the “Giant Space Ants.”
I am not the “Bad cop.”
I am not allowed to steal any component of Batman’s uniform with the express purpose of mocking him. 54a) I am not allowed to steal any component of any JLA member’s uniform with the express purpose of mocking him or her. 54b) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
I am not allowed to take any Bat equipment to school for show-and-tell.
The bats in the Bat-cave are wild animals, not pets, and I must not try to train any of them to perch on my finger.
The bats in the Bat-cave belong in the Bat cave, not in the living room, not in any of the bedrooms, and absolutely not in the pantry or kitchen.
I cannot arrest children for being rude. 58a) I cannot arrest adults for being rude. 58b) Being rude is not a punishable offence.
I am neither the king, queen, princess, prince, duke, duchess, baron, baroness, lord, or lady of cheese and may not exact levies, tolls, or taxes on anyone who wishes to eat cheese.
If I ever put a potato in the Bat-mobile’s exhaust pipes again I will lose all front-seat privileges for the rest of my life.
May not refer to Alfred as “Mom.”
May not form any press gangs.
May not switch the coffee out for decaf. Ever.
May not challenge members of the GCPD or JLA to “the field of honor." Especially not the metahumans.
I may not attempt "Something I saw in my cartoons last Saturday.”
I may not inform reporters that Bruce Wayne is actually Superman. 66a) I may not inform reporters that Alfred is actually Batman.
Crucifixes, garlic, and silver do not ward off Batman and I should not test that theory.
“To kick bad-guy butt while wearing a ridiculous outfit” is a bad long-term goal to give my school counselor. Even though it’s true.
Must not take out the Bat-mobile with the express purpose of “squishing” things.
I must not confess to crimes that took place before I was born.
I do not get “That time of month” and I am not given time off for “Aunt Flo’s visit.”
Not allowed to taunt Commissioner Gordon with cigarettes when he’s trying to quit smoking.
Not allowed to use “It’s okay, my guardian’s rich” as an excuse for anything.
If the idea of something makes me laugh for an extended period of time it is safe to assume that I am not permitted to do it.
Must not mock Batman in front of the press.
I am not allowed to preface the disclosure of any previously sustained injury with “Hey, watch this!”
The chandeliers in the manor are off limits. No exceptions.
"Give it a few weeks" is not an appropriate response to the news of a JLA member’s death. 78a) Not even if I turn out to be correct afterwards.
I am not permitted to send written applications for the position of “Sidekick” to any other superhero.
Being grounded does not qualify me as a hostage and I shall not call the police.
His name is Penny-one in the field, not “Bat-butler.”
I am not to use a broadsword in an attempt to disprove “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
Alfred is not old enough to have fought in the War for American Independence and I should stop implying that he did.
Any song with a verse past number four must never be sung ever again. 84a) Every line of “99 bottles of beer on the wall” counts as one verse.
Putting candy into a prescription bottle and then downing them all at one go in full sight of an adult authority figure is not funny and I will be given an emetic every time I do so.
Potentially dangerous substances belong in the Bat-cave, not in my bedroom.
I am to sleep in my bed, not on the canopy, under the mattress, on the floor, or anywhere else in the bedroom.
If I become hungry on patrol I may ask for a protein bar from Batman: I may not go “Trick-or-treating,” begging, or ask for payment from any citizen in the form of food.
It is not okay to hide in the morgue in order to scare the medical examiner.
Video games are not training exercises.
I do not need “a more suitable host body.”
I am not to label things in the Bat-cave any more.
The phrase “Holy ____, Batman” is only permitted once per night.
“I’m drunk” is a bad response to any question posed to me by the press. I am not drunk, and saying otherwise is a good way to get the CPS to show up.
The JLA comm link is not a forum on which for me to voice my opinions.
Putting out advertisements for a ‘replacement Batman’ is not an acceptable way to vent frustrations.
I am not permitted to form a “Robin fan-club” and request funding from Bruce Wayne for the same.
I am not permitted to steal JLA equipment in order to pass it off as my science fair project for school. If I left my project until the last minute it is then my duty to make a crappy baking-soda-and-vinegar volcano and take the ‘C’.
When Batman engages a suspect, fetching popcorn is not the appropriate response.
I am not to call the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement on extraterrestrial members of the JLA.
For anyone currently going through Game of Thrones withdrawals, I would like to offer up an advertisement for a potential replacement - Black Sails. The premise is it’s the prequel to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, and it’s basically like GOT if it was about pirates and also consistently good.
Some points in its favor:
similar themes about the nature of storytelling and the power of tropes and narrative to shape people’s lives
like GOT, frames itself as the gritty, realistic alternative to some of its genre’s more romanticized offerings
lots of morally gray characters and no one clear ‘villain’
serious and respectful depiction of rape and its aftermath
75% of the queer characters survive to get happy endings
Anne Bonny is a tiny psychopath with two swords and zero fucks and I love her
Look at this asshole‘s ridiculous sunglass-wearing face and tell me you don’t instantly want to know everything there is to know about him:
This is my gift exchange fic for the one-and-only Adina! I saw that you had marriage AUs listed in your likes, and looking at all the cute femslash on your blog, I just couldn’t get the image of Momo and Kyouka living together out of my head! I had so much fun writing it, so I really hope you can enjoy the story, even if it’s just a little bit. Happy holidays!
I’m submitting this piece to Austin Artboards, a project that seeks to replace advertisements on billboards with art from local artists. I have loved this project and believe in the endeavor, so I thought I’d throw my name in the hat.
I’ll let ya’ll know how it goes! Maybe this’ll be large and in charge above the freeway!