but it took a long time so i wanted to post it

things from deh 11/19
  • the lights hadnt even gone up on ben yet on the bed and people were already applauding like it was the end of the world. the applause just..kept going. and ben had this choked up look on his face and he was trying not to cry
  • the same for rachel bay jones just. raucous applause. 
  • and also? when the murphy family breakfast rolls on people lost it and they had to wait like 85 minutes before going back into the song
  • ben forgetting his lines in the middle of sincerely, me and just kind of standing there with a little grin on his face as will was just staring at him like omg
  • during ywbf ben walked toward the front of the stage as usual, you know, but he was looking UP at the screens and all around like he’d never seen it before in his life and he wanted to memorize it all. he had his head entirely craned back just looking UP 
  • after smthng jared says about the Gay Emails ben sat there and did his normal little head shake but ppl laughed so much, and he did it again and people laughed, and he just kept doing it an incredible amount of time just. shaking his head and everyone loved it
  • he wiped his hand ENTIRELY down to his foot when he meets zoe for the first time. like not just a dramatic little shirt wipe. he lifted up his leg and wiped it the ENTIRE length to his off-brand shoes
  • after zoe was like “im not breaking up w you” ben was facing out toward the audience and did this little hand moment like Oh but again. we all laughed. and he kept doing it for like 5 hours
  • also his FREAK OUT when he thinks zoe is breaking up w him was SO DRAMATIC he did lunges and shit i have never seen a human body move in that way before
  • mike really pummeled him in sincerely, me during their little Buddy Buddy part. and BEN !!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKIN RAN HIS HAND THROUGH MIKES HAIR INSTEAD OF DOING HIS NORMAL TINY POKES
  • sincerely, me was basically a rock concert ppl next to be started to clap along it was wild
  • bens hug with jlt after for forever didnt end they just did not let go of each other
  • mike was especially kind today as the computer lab connor he was very very kind. gentle. until you know, hes not
  • ben hugged michael park after to break in a glove
  • this is not specific to today but whenever rbj struts up the center of the stage during good for you i lose my mind
  • there was a half standing ovation after words fail. a good portion of the mezzanine stood and i couldnt see the orchestra. man, you could see him concentrating all his energy just NAILING every single not and i think he was legitimately sobbing when he told the murphys the truth. he had to take some breaths. i mean, sobbing more than usual. i was worried for a second
  • so big, so small was impossible to watch bc it was the most truthful beautiful quiet thing ive ever seen. the looks they gave to each other. the words they said without speaking abt how much they love each other. i cannot express the power of the beat that evan and heidi spent looking into each others eyes doing nothing but being together. they took their time on this song and it hurt so bad 
  • the finale was ridiculous it was just everyone weeping weeping weeping. laura dreyfuss was WEEPING her face was red with tears but she somehow held it together to talk to ben and say “i wanted you to see this” but even from the MEZZANINE i could see the sparkle of tears in her eyes and i was like laura please if you start crying, im really gonna lose my composure and fuckin shriek or something
  • when everyone came out to sing for forever at the finale and theyre all looking at him ben just looked at them for a good long minute and theyre all smiling at him, and the look on rachel bay jones’ face is ethereal, and hes in the spotlight, and he steps forward to sing his final lines and he closes his eyes and just feels it 
  • and then its done
  • laura gives him a huge bouquet of flowers and he keeps motioning for the rest of the cast to come on and bow with him again and again bc the theatre just wont shut up and he has to keep coming back and bowing 
  • and then its really done

L'Uomo Vogue - November 2017 Interview Translation (mostly the bits about Colin) [x]

L’Uomo Vogue: Can you recall the path of your friendship [Colin and Rupert’s]?
Colin Firth:
We met for the first time in 1983 when Rupert came to visit me in the backstage while I played “Another Country” in a West End theatre and I was playing the role he’d done before.
We hung out for a while regularly, being in his company was exciting. It was him who suggested I should play Tommy Judd in the film version (and he still tries his best not to remind me that I owe him my entire career).
When we began filming it became clear I coudn’t keep up with him. Until I had met him, I tried to be a smart, brilliant sort of guy, a wordly man. But he was way out of my league. He was tremendously funny, absolutely outside the box, and totally annoyed by boring people.
For a while I tried my best to keep up with him, but then it became too tiring. There was no competition, so I decided to go in the opposite direction and become decisively boring. It wasn’t too hard.
Rupert Everett: I was attracted to him when we met. He played the same role I had played. I thought he should be the other character in the film. So I pressed a lot to have him too in “Another Country”. Then as soon as he started acting I hated him! I regret it a lot. Where did that hate come from? Jealousy, maybe.
C.F: Rupert saw me with a copy of The Guardian and that was enough: then, to complete the idea that he had of me, he added a guitar, a background in a university that wasn’t that prestigious [Colin graduated at Winchester].
In the following years he perfected that idea with a pair of sandals and the folk repertoire of Peter, Paul and Mary… and he mixed it all. All those props are his inventions - but as a portrait of my deepest nature, I’ll admit there’s something true about that. 
And I’m not the kind of man who lets the truth ruin a bit of good burlesque.
R.E: Colin doesn’t agree, but I remember him strumming his guitar all the time, wearing sandals and singing songs of protest, Sandals! He played “Lemon Tree”! [a famous success of Peter, Paul and Mary].
He says it’s all false. And it probably is, maybe I was just too envious and he was too good. 
Once I was a man who did a lot. I think we all are when we’re young… I wanted to have everything under control. I was annoying. So, after that, for a long while we weren’t friends. But that was 30 years ago. The good thing about growing old doing this job is that you work with pleasant people that you’ve known for a while, and that makes it all the more fun.

L’U.V: Then you worked together in “Shakespeare in Love”. But when did you start being friends?
C.F:
Our friendship started for real with “The Importance of Being Ernest”, during the Summer of 2001. One of the best experiences I’ve ever had.
Maybe because he had grown, or maybe because I got a bit more loose, or became better, we became close friends. I managed to make him laugh, which is something that filled me with satisfaction.
Then followed two films of the “St. Trinian’s” series that I did first and foremost because he was doing them.
On my last day on set of the second film, Rupert became very gloomy. Even if he never said it, I’m convinced he was sad about me leaving. Around lunchtime I bid my goodbyes to everyone and, after I’d left, Rupert stayed laid on the floor of his trailer for an hour, faking being dead, to the dismay of the producers and the medical staff.
He’ll certainly tell a different story, but it’s true for me and just another proof of his fondness (for me).
It’s probably during that time that he started writing “The Happy Prince”. He told me he’d go write it in Paris, in the same hotel room Wilde stayed. Hoping it’d be a “collaboration” with Oscar. The room was too depressing, so he left the next day. Six weeks later though, he came back with one of the best scripts I’ve ever read.
R.E: I could never have done the film without Colin. Nowadays the most important thing to make a film is going to the potential investors with the names of the actors that are going to be in it.
Just as soon as I wrote it, right at the beginning, that is years ago, he came to me and did a first reading.
It was before he’d do “The King’s Speech” or “A Single Man”. We had just finished “St.Trinian’s 2″. It was easy to make him sign a piece of paper at that time! He signed, but then it took years to make it… He was the real deal. The important thing was that he was involved in the project. So, in a sense I owe it all to him, besides Emily Watson and Tom Wilkinson and all the others, obviously.
But it was him that everybody wanted. We’re not the best friends, but Colin was there for me, he supported me, and in the end we did the film.
In this business nobody does favours anymore. Today, actors’ careers are managed by these impenetrable agencies.
He instead did me a favour and it’s a very rare thing. I’ll always owe him.

L’U.V.: When you made the film in the end, how did it go?
C.F:
Rupert was unique. It’s extraordinary working with someone who has that kind of control on the entire project: actor, writer, director.
He kept having new ideas, he never stopped. […]

L’U.V: […] I want to ask Colin about his decision to get the italian passport (he’s got the double citizenship in September), something that he was allowed to do since he’s married with Livia Giuggioli. The British Press said it was also because of Brexit.
C.F.:
I always considered my relationship with Italy as a gift. It’s a relationship that in my family has gone on for two decades. I got married here [in Italy], my two sons were born in Rome. 
My wife and I are both extremely proud of our respective Countries. We feel like we gave a gift to each other. Our children have the double citizenship.
In reality, we’ve never really thought about how we had different passports. But now with all this uncertainty around, we thought it was for the best if we all had the same passports.
I’ll always be absolutely British (just look at me and listen to me), Great Britain is our home and we love it. Despite the temptation to move somewhere more profitable for my job, I’ve always chosen to have my career grow in the United Kingdom and pay my taxes there.
But I’ve bonded/married into Italy (and everyone will tell you that if you marry an italian, you’re not marrying just one person, but an entire family or maybe an entire Country…).
As basically anyone, I have a passion for Italy and having the double citizenship, like my children, is for me a great privilege.

anonymous asked:

Oookay, so what's with that "It seems the only thing I'm good at is disappointing people"-tag in your answer to the anon-ask about requests? o: I don't know you very well (yet), so of course I can't rly judge that statement. But even in that short time, I myself have never been disappointed from you. You are a kind person, gifted with the wonderful talents of drawing, and stayin in-character when RP'ing / answering asks. You are awesome, and I want you to know that. *sends lots of love and hugs*

This response is extremely late as I’ve been meaning to go to these a while back. My sincerest apologies for making you all wait, again. I’ll place everything under a read more as a little bit of this post might be negative for some. So please bare with me for a small moment, please. 

Keep reading

CANON ANSWERS ABOUT WKM (complete!)

I took notes watching the stream! Let me know if there’s anything integral that I missed– and you can bet SERIOUS MONEY that I’ll be piecing together more theories in the next few days!

CHAPTER ONE

  • CONFIRMED: WARFSTACHE PREQUEL.
  • “Bonjour” was an homage to ADWM.
  • Each character Mark plays has different quotes about “Life” (i.e. Life is for the living, life is ours to choose, life needs a bit of madness).
  • THE DRUNK SEQUENCE PREDICTS EVERYTHING!!
  • The Damien keg stand meant to signify that he’d be stuck in “the upside-down”, and when he tried to wake us up, that told us he was the only one who really wanted to help us!
  • ASSHOLE MARK NEVER DRINKS.
  • The Mayor turning gray means ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
  • Mark tried to make it obvious we would die, yet we were all still surprised (lmao).
  • CONFIRMED: In Mark’s own words, Damien is the only one with a “human” reaction to the death.
  • The Colonel was based on the hunter from Jumanji!
  • The Chef is scary, but inherently harmless.
  • Little Buddy’s “kill” mode is insignificant to the story and WAS an homage to FNaF.
  • CONFIRMED: COLONEL, MARK, AND DAMIEN WERE FRIENDS SINCE CHILDHOOD BUT HAD A FALLING-OUT.
  • And the dick on the body tape was 100% Ethan’s idea!! LMAO

CHAPTER TWO

  • CONFIRMED: The Colonel DOES “pop in and out of existence”, but he is NOT the only one to do so– just the most obvious.
  • Mark tried to make it “painfully apparent” that the Colonel was the one who did it.
  • Detective and Asshole Mark were friends at the same time he, Damien, and Colonel were friends– but the two did NOT know the Detective.
  • The long winding hall sequence with Detective was intentional– so we could get oriented with the house…
  • … because the house “does not follow the laws of physics”.
  • When following the Colonel out of the bedroom on the second floor, we warp with him to the first floor patio (with the pool).
  • The crib in the room was not a planned detail in the story.
  • CONFIRMED: The Colonel and Celine ran off together, and that’s what made Asshole Mark hate him.
  • CONFIRMED: IN THE WHOLE STORY, THERE IS NO HOST INVOLVEMENT WHATSOEVER.
  • CONFIRMED: The Colonel and Asshole Mark grew up together in that house, which is why the Colonel knows it so well and refers to it as “his own”. Mark even considered making those two characters be brothers!

CHAPTER THREE

  • “Hence the guns” is one of Mark’s favorite scenes in the series.
  • The cane is a sign of Damien’s high-class status as Mayor.
  • CONFIRMED: Celine and Asshole Mark were married.
  • Quote from Mark himself: “[Celine] wants what she wants, and she won’t let anyone get in her way”
  • Another quote: “She also has a temper… like someone else we know”
  • Mark’s original inclination was to make Damien and Celine be siblings, hence Celine’s adamant refusal of Damien’s help. (I caught onto this notion, but it didn’t really resonate with anyone else I talked to about it.)
  • Mark said that Celine wanted to use the viewer in the ritual because she saw them as expendable, since she didn’t know them personally.
  • There are no lightning strikes when George says “murder” because he hasn’t been inside the house for many years.
  • CONFIRMED: The house is cursed. (Make of that what you will.)
  • CONFIRMED: In the final door shot of Celine, she is possessed– because she messed with power beyond her control, and Damien was in the room with her at the time.

CHAPTER FOUR

  • The Colonel looks out for Celine and Damien– but NOT Asshole Mark.
  • The odd glowy room-walking sequence was supposedly a small view into another world– “the upside-down”, it was dubbed (but there’s debate about whether that region specifically was “the upside-down”)
  • There is debate as to whether this is how the Colonel “pops in and out of existence”.
  • We don’t see the Detective’s investigation room until that chapter because the house hid it from us.
  • In that room, there are post-its reading “DON’T TRUST THE SEER” (which I caught, but it was a very minor thing I had to watch multiple times to see)
  • The Colonel owed Asshole Mark A LOT of money.
  • As we fall, William says, “It was an accident, I swear!”
  • The original idea for the final gun scene was that Damien would walk in and be the one the Colonel shot, NOT us.
  • CONFIRMED: Asshole Mark had killed himself many times before, but returned to his body from “the upside-down”. That’s why he was stabbed 37 times, poisoned, beaten, strangled, drowned, AND shot– none of those happened on the same day. Asshole Mark tried his hand at the dark arts to achieve this.
  • CONFIRMED: The black eyes we see when Asshole Mark’s body speaks to us after we die is NOT his own spirit– it’s the spirit of someone else trapped there.
  • CONFIRMED: Damien had every intention of helping us! He did! Mark confirmed it– he wasn’t manipulating us at all, he just wanted the best for us!
  • CONFIRMED (!!!): William/the Colonel spent ten hours watching our body overnight and cradled Damien’s cane the whole time. (THE FEELS ARE REAL, GUYS! THEY’RE CANON!!)
  • CONFIRMED: The reason Wilford Warfstache’s suspenders are pink is because they used to be red, but they faded over many, many years.
  • Mark didn’t realize how tragic the ending really was until he was editing it. In his own words, it’s “terrifyingly sad”.

And, finally, the one we’ve all been waiting for…

  • CONFIRMED: DAMIEN PUSHED US OUT OF THE BODY. But he wasn’t manipulating us for that… he did it because he cared for us and didn’t think we deserved the true hell of what resurrection really meant. He did it because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Everyone Lived.

Everyone lived. When Harry was born, Lily hardly saw him because Sirius was fitting him into a tiny leather jacket, Remus was reading to him, and James was already trying to sneak him to the Quidditch supply store to get Harry his first toy broom. Christmases were spent with full bellies and rooms stuffed with laughter, and there wasn’t a single person without flushed cheeks from all the wine. Lily’s eyes sparkled, and there was always a joke on the tip of James’ tongue. All Harry knew was love, love, love, from every corner of the universe.

Everyone lived, and every Thursday afternoon, Sirius and Remus took Harry to the “library”, which was the secret word they taught him for the ice cream parlor. With each trip, they ordered the biggest sundae that was offered with three spoons, and Harry always ate nearly all of it. They kept it up until the day Harry asked Lily to take him to the library and, when confronted with the shelves piled high with books, he asked her where they went to order their ice cream.

Remus and Sirius got married when Harry was three, and Harry was the ring bearer. Lily cried the first time she saw him in his tiny dress robes. They were just long enough that he nearly tripped halfway up the aisle. There wasn’t a single pair of dry of eyes in the audience that day.

Everyone lived, and on Harry’s sixth birthday, he celebrated alongside Neville with all their friends and family. James gave Harry his first set of toy Quidditch balls. He, Ron, Neville, Draco, and Ginny all played together until Draco pushed Neville off his broom and into the cake Alice had spent hours working on. Lily tried so hard not to laugh at Neville’s frosting-covered face, but instead she went beet red and gave herself away to everyone.

Draco said he was sorry. He actually meant it.

Everyone lived, and the moms had a Lockhart book club, which consisted of everyone getting wine-drunk and complaining about their husbands together. Draco, Neville, Harry and Ron eavesdropped and reported back to their dads, who were standing around the kitchen armed with beer, about what they did wrong that week. Each of the meetings somehow coincidentally ended with each of the men stopping by to bring their respective wives bouquets of flowers or boxes of chocolate “because they just felt like it.”

Everyone lived, and Draco and Harry were friends, believe it or not. When Narcissa and Lucius had a date night, they dropped Draco off at the Potters. James told them scary stories in the darkness of their blanket tent. Lily used magic to cast shadows all over their living room, and Harry and Draco wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. But Lily kissed each of their foreheads and assured them each that everything would be fine, because she and James would never let anything bad happen to either of them.

She meant it.

Draco and Harry stayed up until their eyelids were simply too heavy to bear, but Harry managed to remain awake till Draco was completely asleep before closing his eyes. It was one of the most peaceful things he’d ever seen. He wasn’t exactly sure why he thought that. Not yet, anyways.

Everyone lived. Everyone got a little bit older. The kids all went off to Hogwarts, somehow managing to stuff themselves all into one train compartment, even with Hermione once she joined. Draco and Harry got put into different houses, which was a relief to everyone around them. “they already bickered like a married couple without rooming together,” Ron said when they were first sorted, “I don’t want to think about what we’d have to deal with if they were sharing a dorm.”

The only time Harry and Draco forgot about their friendship was when they played against each other in Quidditch. There were no rules when you needed to be the first one to the snitch.

(I suppose there weren’t any rules when it came to making out with your best friend in an empty corridor after drinking half a bottle of fire whiskey, either.)

Sixth year came with sly glances and brushing fingertips in the hallway; throwing all caution to the wind and risking friendship for feelings Harry and Draco had been denying since they were kids. Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks, but no one said a word. Not even when Harry inconspicuously crept out of bed nearly every night at half past two with his Invisibility cloak in tow, not returning until the sun was just peeking out over the mountains, if at all. He looked happier than ever that year, secrets tugging on the corners of his mouth every time he spoke.

Everyone lived, and when Draco and Harry came out to their families their seventh year, everyone groaned. “You owe me ten Galleons,” was the first thing James said to Lucius, and Harry knew then that everything was going to be okay.

Because everyone was here, surrounding him, breathing, alive. They all hugged him and Draco at once, cheeks smooshed together, a mess of laughter and “I love you’s” and kisses on foreheads. They were all connected then, their pulses stitching them together with a bond Harry knew nothing could break.

They all knew hurt; they knew pain and suffering, and they knew loss, but most of all, they knew each other. They knew love, and they knew hope.

As they stood there, a giant amoeba of people from all walks of life, some more challenging than others, Harry let go of the breath he felt as though he had been holding for his entire life.

10

God I’m finally done with this comic I don’t care if it looks like shit just. Just take it.

I started working on this comic in September but due to personal health problems and inktober I wasn’t able to finish it until now. Like with all my comics, I don’t like the final results but goddamn it I spent a long ass time working on this comic and you’re gonna look at it! Or not. I can’t force you to do anything. At the very least I’d appreciate if you look at the line art. That shit took the longest time.

Most of comics I think up of are just scenarios I think are interesting or a particular image I wanted to draw and I conjured up a comic around it to provide some sort of context. For this one, I was inspired by the paneling in Houseki no Kuni manga and I wanted to draw something like it, so if you’re wondering why the paneling looks different than my average comic than that’s why.

This comic is entirely hypothetical, with Fi being around for the past events of Breath of the Wild. If Zelda is so tsundere for Link for being the chosen hero, I think Zelda would fear Fi because she thinks she is disappointing Fi by being such a failure.

The love in this comic isn’t intenderd to be romantic love (although you can view it that way if you want to it’s not like I can stop you), but more like the kind you feel when you want to die but hearing some kind words is enough to save you. Yeah.

8

Four seasons with your love, will come once again…
Four seasons with your love, will stay within me…

Reinhardt and the Griffin

OK so, one thing bothered me watching the “Honor and Glory” Overwatch short, why is the animal on Reinhardt’s armor different?

In every other time we’ve seen Reinhardt, his symbol, which was always on his armor’s left forearm and etched into his hammer, was a lion. Which is a great symbol for Reinhardt, but in the short it wasn’t a lion at all.

It’s a Griffin. Which got me thinking, why is it a griffin?

In Germanic heraldry, a griffin is meant to symbolize courage, militaristic strength and leadership, as well as boldness, and are always allured by powerful, fearsome monsters. Griffins are meant to symbolize the amalgamated strengths and weaknesses of its halves, the Lion and the Eagle.

In heraldry, the Lion (King of beasts) was symbolized by courage, strength, nobility, and valor. Whereas the Eagle (King of the skies) also symbolizes courage and valor, as well as vision, intellect, and immortality.

In the short, I believe the griffin represents Reinhardt. A powerful and courageous leader, but bold, and blinded by glory and the search of a good challenge. He was overzealous, he charged in to combat, leaving his team behind, so he could revel in his own glory, he was selfish.

But he changed, and we saw the change happen.

When Reinhardt agreed to leave Balderich to hold off the omnics, and to go defend his team, He was no longer blinded by glory, or the pursuit of a fearsome enemy for him to overcome, he was humbled, he was grounded.

At this moment, Reinhardt was no longer a griffin, he was no longer blinded by glory or chasing a challenge, his head was no longer in the clouds, the eagle of Reinhardt’s griffin left him at that moment, and he was left as the courageous, but humble lion we know him as today.

positively-pan  asked:

Hi! I was wondering if you had any advice on writing a good villain. I don’t want her to be two dimensional, but I don’t know how to prevent that. Would it help if I explained my story a little bit more?

Congrats @positively-pan, your ask has been chosen as one of my Long Posts™. Sorry It took so long to make this!

Tips on How to Write A Good Villain

Oh no! It’s the big baddy!

They’re the worst of the worst!

They’re ruthless antagonists!

They’re ready to kill!

They’re………the weakest and most uninteresting character in your entire story.

A lot of the times when I’m reading, I come across books that are great. Their plots are amazing, their protagonists are believable and incredibly well-developed, but I find myself disliking them because the antagonists are, well, awful to say the least.

I don’t understand when it became a common misconception that villains don’t have souls.

“They’re edgy™ and don’t need souls, all they need to do is wreak havoc, take lives, and bask in sweet, sweet wicked malevolence”

This mindset has completely ruined many villains, especially in YA, because what people claim is “edgy” and “emotionless” and “evil” just comes off as “I was too lazy to develop this character.”

Yes! That’s right! Villains ARE characters, and that means you have to develop them just like all your other characters, and I’m talking the character charts and everything. The whole nine yards. Just because they’re the villain doesn’t mean you can slack, you bum.

There are, however, special measures you have to take to develop a villain that makes it different from developing a protagonist. So I’m going to list of some tips that will help make your villain just as great as your heroes!

1. Personality, Personality, Personality

Yes!!!! Villains have to have personality!!!! They’re characters!!!! How!! many!! passive!!! aggressive!!!! exclamation points!!! do I have to add!! to get this through everyone’s heads!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I can skip this step, Maddy,” you tell me smoothly, sliding a picture of your Man Crush Monday villain over to me with twenty bucks taped to the back.

I burn the picture and take the twenty bucks.

Here’s how you know your villain is underdeveloped/doesn’t have a personality:

If I asked you to write down all of your villains traits and you only have things like “Evil. Mean. Bad. Really bad. The baddest. [Insert synonyms for evil here]” then you have a problem.

Just because you’re character is a villain doesn’t mean they don’t do other things. Being a villain may be their life’s work, but they also do other things on the side; there isn’t a villain who should be only evil and nothing else.

Maybe your villain likes knitting. Fishing. Maybe your villain is very family-oriented. Maybe your villain is very smart. And I’m not talking cunning smart, I’m talking like geek/nerd smart; give me a villain who has a passion for history or marine biology or something! Do it, you cowards!

2. They Need to Have a Motivation

Like with personality, they can’t be doing what they’re doing to the protagonists “because they’re, like, evil”.

They need to have a reason to strive for what they’re doing. They need to have an incentive to perform all of these atrocities, need to have something that spurs them on to work for their goal.

Here’s a list of motives that you can choose from:

  • Money
  • Power
  • Love
  • Vengeance
  • Survival
  • Glory
  • Serve a master
  • “Save” humanity
  • Ambition
  • Persecution
  • Respect
  • Religion
  • New ideas
  • Status

3. They Need to Be a Do-er

Yeah, this book was great! The protagonist saved the day! The supporting characters were amazing! The antagonist…was just sort of there.

Nuh-uh. Nope. I will NOT stand for this.

Your villain has to be an active participant in the plot. They need to be doing everything in their power to keep the protagonists from defeating them/achieving their goal, and if your villain is just mentioned and never really does anything, what’s the point?

I once read a book where the antagonist didn’t do anything until halfway through the plot. Like???? No??? That’s not how it’s supposed to work?????

If they’re an antagonist, they need to be making obstacles for the protagonist. These obstacles are essential for your plot, which is the reason why your antagonist is essential for the plot; they need to create conflict like the antagonists they are!


Hope this Helped!

7

A Tennant/Tate Celebration 

Interviewer:  “You can’t stay apart.”
David:  “We can’t, no.”
Catherine:  “No, we tried.”

David:  “We’ve always enjoyed working together… specifically working together as well as hanging out.”

A gif-tastic update of this old post o’ mine

First Kisses

Their first kiss wasn’t spectacular. No one stood in the background, waiting to light off fireworks while hordes of people cheered and applauded. There was no performance at all, really.

The fact of the matter is that their first kiss was on a Tuesday night, and Draco was making Harry stay up with him to study for a Defense Against the Dark Arts exam they had the next morning. They were the only ones in the common room. But Harry looked at the clock and realized it wasn’t Tuesday night anymore, it was actually Wednesday morning, and somehow during their studying they’d slumped over onto each other, eyelids weighed down with sleep. The fire had all but burned out, the glowing coals casting a dim orange light across the two boys on the overstuffed sofa…

It wasn’t spectacular. They just sort of… fell together, I suppose, melting into each other, and Harry wasn’t sure where his mouth ended and Draco’s began anymore. He kept falling. Harry hoped he’d never hit the ground.


Their first kiss was in the rain after Harry and Draco were both shit-faced drunk, stumbling out of the bar while still swaying in time to the pumping music inside. Harry’s glasses were askew, and his cheeks were flushed, and god, his pupils were so dilated… Draco had intended on mapping out every corner of Harry’s face so he could remember it later when he went home alone like usual, but when he straightened Harry’s glasses for him, his hands lingered against his cheeks, thumbs tracing Harry’s lips. Their foreheads pressed together. He could feel Harry’s breath against his mouth and when he finally closed the remaining space between them, Harry’s wand shot out sparks and singed Draco’s coat. If you weren’t looking closely as you walked past them in the dark, you’d think it was one cloaked figure, standing very still outside the crowded bar.

Draco didn’t go home alone ever again after that night.


Their first kiss was in the eighth-year common room, surrounded by friends who had all had far too much firewhiskey to drink. It was Harry’s turn, and his face was already beet red. He wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from what was about to happen, but he wasn’t sure that mattered right now. He spun the bottle as hard as it would go. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and the bottle just kept going… There was no way there wasn’t magic involved in how long it took it to stop spinning. Maybe he was so drunk, it had stopped spinning hours ago and he just hadn’t noticed.

The room went silent.

Harry was particularly aware of the fact that there was a floor beneath him, and something else underneath, and he felt entirely too heavy to hold up. He looked at who the bottle pointed towards and wished the floorboards would give way to send him plummeting into whatever room was beneath them.

And Ron was assuring him that no, if he really didn’t want to, he didn’t have to do it, but Pansy started chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and made everyone else join in. Hell, even Hermione was pumping her fists and chanting, and all of the blood in Harry’s body rushed to his head. He was most definitely a deep shade of scarlet now.

He looked up from his lap, though, and inches in front of him was the one person he never thought he’d touch in a way that wasn’t with malintent, and his eyes were already closed.

Draco tasted like peppermint and booze. The first time, at least.


Their first kiss was full of fire and anger and sweat, and they were seventeen. There was no one left in the showers after Slytherin lost another Quidditch match to Gryffindor, and Draco was convinced Harry had cheated. He’d almost had the snitch. He could have beat him for the first time in his life. Draco punched first, hitting the hard brick wall and bloodying his knuckles when Harry ducked out of the way. Harry’s face was covered in dirt and neither of them had much in the way of a hairstyle after playing out in a rainstorm for several hours. But Draco couldn’t think about Harry’s unkempt hair or muddy face right now, because somehow Harry had pinned him up against the wall, breathing hard and muttering something about how Draco should think very hard about what he did next…

Harry had hickeys landscaped across his chest for days.


Their first kiss was confusing for both of them. Of course Snape had paired them together for potions again, and Harry was prepared to sit back and let Draco do all the work again, but they were being watched so Draco thrust into Harry’s arms some things to chop up that had nothing to do with what they were brewing. Harry was getting a Dreadful in this class and he wasn’t sure how he was going to finish school if he flunked out.

“I’ll help you,” Draco mumbled, and Harry became aware that he had somehow managed to say all of this out loud.

“You’ll what?” asked Harry, dumbfounded.

“I said I’ll help you, you git,” Draco sneered, “McGonagall wants me to do something for the less fortunate because it might help me get a job when we get out of here.”

So Harry agreed, and for two hours on Saturday nights Harry and Draco had a scheduled slot of time to argue study. They’d never spent time alone together though, at least not for this long, and Harry began to notice little things about Draco. Like how when Draco was thinking hard about something, he flossed his hands through his hair, pulling it all off of his forehead and accentuating his widow’s peak. He looked like a blond vampire like that. It was a good look on him.

“What did you just say?” questioned Draco, one eyebrow raised. Harry had thought out loud again. Shit. He tried to think of something to cover up what he’d just said, but it was all out in the open now. He couldn’t backtrack on something like that. Draco looked beyond pleased with himself, and Harry felt his jaw clench. That git.

God, Draco got under his skin, but here, in the empty potions classroom, alone, he looked…

God.

He got under his skin so much that skin was all Harry could think about now. Draco’s skin. It was softer than he’d ever imagined. And his lips were another story.


And that’s what I love about fanfiction. The fact that we can write into existence hundreds of first kiss, each one unique in it’s own way, but each one dripping with more magic than anything you can cast with your wand. Each one the jumping off point for an infinite universe of stories, love, heartbreak, and laughter. So here’s to beginnings. Here’s to more first kisses.


Thank you @parkkate for reminding me of the post I made a few months ago that fell along this line! I figured I’d have at it once again like I did with the other post I made yesterday since I don’t really remember anything I wrote last time! 

Eight Months.

Even eight months after the break up, Harry still felt the overwhelming urge to check up on you and your life. He would check your social media accounts a few times a week, more so before going to bed when thoughts of you plagued his mind. It felt naughty, wrong in a way; after all, it was him who ended your two year relationship.

*

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me.”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

Your Instagram account had been almost inactive for the first month after the break up, with only the occasional bog-standard photos of new make-up purchases and Starbucks coffee. But no selfies and nothing that indicated any happiness in your life. After three months, your social media accounts portrayed some happiness returning to your life as you took selfies with friends on regular nights out, but Harry knew as well as anyone that social media is one massive cover up for reality. Were you really actually happy? Were you living or were you just alive?

It seemed to him that your life continued to appear happy, but after four months of opening the app, he noticed someone by your side. Photograph after photograph, upload after upload, this person would be stood next to you. You had a side when taking photos with Harry, but now somebody else was standing on Harry’s side, taking his place, standing where he should be standing. Then tagging each other on Twitter began taking place. Simple things such as “coffee dates” and memes.

Five months after the messy break up, Harry sighted a picture of the two of you kissing; you and your new beau, as it was publicised. Your lips on his, no doubt his tongue down your throat and he wanted to vomit. It didn’t make social media, but it made the headlines in the news. The media had left you alone a little while after the break up, but of course, a new relationship for you meant gossip amongst the public, especially One Direction fans and Harry girls, and the tabloids couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Upon reaching seven months, Harry noticed another change in you on social media. You were becoming more and more inactive by the day, rarely replying to tweets and the amount of photographs posted reduced. Anybody else would put it down to business in studying and spending time with loved ones, but Harry knew how much you had loved your interactions on social media, and something didn’t sit quite right with him. But then he remembered that he’s not yours and you’re not his, and you have someone else taking care of you now.

*

Eight months later, and Harry still had you on his mind almost every minute of the day. He would awake in the morning with the help of his alarm but your hair wasn’t sprawled across the pillows as he would expect; he no longer bothered eating breakfast in the mornings; gone are the days when he used keep something warm on the stove for you, for when you awoke, ensuring you had something warm for your hungry tummy in the mornings; he had nobody to send a morning text to. His routine was completely out of sync and nothing over the last few months made it any better.

He would come home every evening to an empty apartment. He had nobody to cook dinner for. He had nobody to talk to about his day. He had nobody to snuggle up to at night. He had nobody to kiss. He had nobody to love and he had nobody to love him.

Some nights would be simple; Harry would climb into bed and flick on the television, watching a favourite film in which he no longer got pleasure out of. He’d check his social media, and then check yours, before setting his alarm and falling asleep, his dreams of you haunting him throughout the night.

Other nights, he’d yearn for you. He loved you, still loves you, and wants nothing more than to hold you whilst you sleep and keep you safe in his embrace. But he would yearn for you in other ways too, awakening in the night from happy dreams of you, his cock hard for you. He would lay awake between the sheets, grinding his hips into them and rubbing himself vigorously as he imagined being inside of you. He would let himself go completely when he could imagine the moans that would leave your lips, the breathlessness you would encounter, and it was as though he could almost feel you come around him.

He hadn’t been in another relationship since the split, but there had been a couple of one night stands. In a way to get over you, ironically, he would fuck others that had similar traits to you. The same hair colour, the same laugh, the same smile. But neither of those girls were you. He didn’t really want them, they just happened along with the alcohol consumption of both parties involved. After two girls, he stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation that made him stop, or if it was the slap he received one night.

*

The music was pounding against the speaker, the DJ’s were screaming out and giving shoutouts, mostly for people’s birthday’s and other celebrations, bartenders were leaning over the bar in an attempt to actually hear what the customers were ordering in the club, and everyone was like sardines, squashed together, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it and having a good time. Everyone except Harry.

He occasionally moved around and shuffled his feet in an attempt to dance, but he felt so lost without you there. He kept an eye out to see if you were around, almost forgetting that you didn’t go there together. He always used to keep an eye on you, making sure you were safe on the dance floor and that no drunken men took advantage of you. He was your protector. 

“What’s your name?” a young blonde asked. That was the only thing that was same about the two of you. You’re blonde and so was she. But she wasn’t you. Harry wasn’t too sure if she was just acting oblivious to the fact that he was the most famous, most well-known person in the club, or whether she was just so drunk that she barely knew her own name, let alone his.

“Harry” he told her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer so as they could hear each other’s spoken words over the thumping music.

The girl nods. “Louise” she tells him. “Fancy getting out of here?” she asks. 

Harry nods. He realises she’s not as drunk as he thought she was, but taking in her features, she looked a few years older than him. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was.

“Mine or yours?” she asks as they stumble out of the nightclub and onto the streets of London. Louise quickly hails a taxi as Harry replies, “yours.”

Whilst his own place seemed more appealing as he wouldn’t have the awkward ‘leaving after a shag’ stage, he didn’t want to take her, or anyone, to his bed. Only you got the privilege to be in his bed. He didn’t fuck anyone else in his bed, only you. He didn’t want anyone else to come in the sheets besides the two of you together and for each other.

The taxi ride back to hers was soon over and they stumbled through her apartment, his lips pressed to hers. Their eyes remained closed as he thought about you. Undressing you. Running his hands up and down your body and caressing your breasts as you laid all bare for him, for his eyes only.

Harry breathlessly pulls aways as he lifts up the miniskirt. They both quickly realise this is nothing more than sex up against the wall. She’s not taking him to bed either, and Harry wonders if Louise is also getting over someone. Within the next thought, he doesn’t care. He does’t love Louise. He loves (Y/N).

The blonde grabs at his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his trousers, his length exposed to her. He quickly reaches into his back pocket before letting his trousers drop and rips open the packaging. Covering himself with the latex, he soon pushes himself into her. She gasps, taking him in, before moving quickly against him.

They’ve both been drinking and he knows his performance will be affected greatly, so he’s not surprised when he quickly comes inside of her, moaning her name. She gasps and he withdraws from her quickly. Before even getting the chance to dress himself, her hand collides with his cheek.

“Louise! I told you my name is Louise!” she yells at him angrily.

And in that moment, he realises that he moaned your name when he came.

*

He arrived home from the studio and continued his evening rituals. No work the following day meant he could have a later night and whilst he was glad to be able to sleep in later and not have the demands of an alarm clock, he knew from experience that on a day off where he lacked a busy schedule, you would be on his mind more than ever.

The night passed with Harry doing nothing more than eating his evening meal and lounging around in front of the television, flicking through channels to find something to entertain him for a few hours. He occasionally reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself small measures each time. Whilst the drinking had become a regular habit a few months back, Harry had realised that drowning his problems with alcohol helped nobody, not even himself, and he kicked the habit almost as quickly as it had started. No amount of alcohol got you out of his head.

The comedy shows provided some entertainment, and whilst there were a few forced laughs, Harry did find some of the jokes genuinely funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed properly.

Tapping his watch with a yawn, he checked the time. Flicking off the television set, he threw the remotes back on the sofa and picked his body up from the position he had been in for hours. A loud, repeated knock on the door made him jump slightly. The banging got harder and more frantic and he could only wonder who would be calling in on him at this hour. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yelled in frustration. Couldn’t his unwanted and unwelcome guest wait two minutes?!

Heading into the hallway, he unlocked the door, pouting his lips to express his emotion, making sure the person on the other side of it knew he was angry at the disturbance and the complete lack of respect for him and his property. As far as they were aware, he may well have had work the next morning. Swinging the door open,  he gasps, taking in the demeanour of the person standing in front of him, the sight almost killing him as bile rose in his stomach and a nauseous feeling took control of his body.

Seeing lots of discourse tonight over Keith/Lance potentially being an unhealthy relationship – Keith not being as supportive of Lance as Lance is of Keith, emotional stability being one-sided, etc.

First of all: chill. They are not the only people in each others’ lives. Both of them have strong relationships with everyone else on the show – this isn’t a situation where they’re isolated, where they only have each other, where Keith’s sole source of stability is Lance and Lance is emotionally starved because he has no other outlet. This is not the case. Their relationship is one of many on the show, and it’s one that is just beginning to bud into something new. Keith has Shiro to calm him down. Lance has Hunk to support him and be his friend. Keith/Lance don’t only have each other to lean on.

Second: Keith has emotionally supported Lance. He is someone who has a hard time with words, and chooses instead to show his feelings through actions. I wrote a whole meta about how the bedroom scene was fantastic and Keith absolutely made Lance feel at least a little better, but we won’t get into it for now. To make a long story short, the misinterpretation of “Leave the math to Pidge” is what throws a lot of people off. Keith isn’t literally saying that Lance is bad at math. Earlier, Lance said he did math that led him to believe he should leave the team. Keith is saying that Lance’s math is wrong because he won’t have to leave the team. Lance understands this and smiles in relief.

Immediately after this, Keith chooses to sit out on their next mission (though he ends up piloting Black anyway). While this is partly due to his own feelings of inadequacy as a leader in relation to Shiro, it also absolutely is because of what Lance said to him. Again: for Keith, actions speak louder than words. Lance came to him, confided in him, Keith said things would work themselves out, and he chose to deal with it by sitting out himself. I know this to be true because that episode was written by Mitch Iverson - the biggest Lance stan on the writing team, and someone who is extremely kind towards Klance shippers. He’s a very intelligent writer (wrote the sharpshooter episode, the Pidge & Matt reunion, Lance’s guide to falling in love) and knows how to connect scenes from earlier in an episode to those later on (again: see the sharpshooter episode, aka “Escape from Beta Traz”). So: Keith 100% sat out because of what Lance told him. It probably also played a part in his eventual leaving of the team, albeit a smaller one to his own personal issues.

He also listened to Lance and took him seriously as right hand, unlike Shiro has in season 4. Keith and Lance as Black and Red is the closest we will ever get to coleadership on the team (which is kind of impossible when there’s a designated leader, but somehow, they managed to do it). Being someone’s right hand man doesn’t mean they can’t support you, too, and it doesn’t automatically imply an imbalance in the relationship. It’s playing different roles, attending different needs. Before Zarkon was corrupted, he and Alfor had a perfectly healthy friendship; Shiro and Keith do as well. Both these relationships are mutually supportive, and Keith and Lance are no different.

In terms of personal support, Lance has given this to Keith three times – when Keith was grieving over the loss of Shiro, when Keith didn’t want to accept his role as leader, and when Keith lost control of the team. These were all times when Keith allowed himself be emotionally vulnerable in front of Lance - of COURSE Lance was going to step in and comfort him! In contrast, Lance has not allowed himself to be emotionally vulnerable in front of ANY of his teammates. The closest he’s come is with Coran about his homesickness, and Keith – but that was more of a logical thought process of his, a rare moment of accidentally revealing his unconscious feelings of inferiority. And Keith made his best effort to comfort Lance with words (unfortunately, words aren’t Keith’s strong suit, but they’re what Lance attains validation from), then did what he does best and acted on those words.

What I’m trying to get at is: I’m sure Keith would be just as emotionally supportive of Lance as Lance is of Keith, but Lance has not given him the opportunity to do so yet. And the one time he did, Keith took his feelings to heart and responded accordingly. Lance’s arc has been said to be a show-spanning one – he has yet to truly reveal the depths of his insecurities to his teammates, and honestly, he hasn’t even realized the extent of them himself, yet, either. So, we’re looking at some great stuff coming up, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say some great comforting words from Keith. Keep calm, y’all.

gemstoneblitz  asked:

I hate my art skills....

I’m gonna be clear. This is kinda a point of view of mine, based on my own experience and observation.

You know what’s the problem? The social media itself. 
I’m not going to say it is internet’s fault, because I learned many stuff reading and watching on internet years later.

I didn’t have someone in real life to teach me and I didn’t have internet either. My style was TOO WAY different from what is it now. It was obvious, but I enjoyed so much drawing. It never crossed in my mind that my art skills were terrible. I fillled more than 20 notebooks with comics. 

Even I was teaching my school friends how to draw. AND THEY LEARNED TO DRAW THAT STYLE, EVEN THO IT WAS THIS THING BELOW!!

THEY LEARNED HOW TO DRAW LIKE THAT!!

I CAN EVEN STILL DRAW IN THAT STYLE

BUT WE DID NEVER CARE ABOUT IT
Because we were happy drawing our stories (And the stories weren’t good at all”)

We were happy doing our stuff. And we improved without realizing it. We found a style, we tried to copy it, something started to change, we loved it, we kept drawing, we commited mistakes, we didn’t care, we won contests with THAT style… 

Some people today could say we were living as “ignorants”, but the real thing here is, that we were finding ourselves without caring others’ words. We loved each part of our progress, and of course, that took a lot of years, and still.

Social media wasn’t as important as it is now, at least in my country. Mid-class families started to have internet in their own houses around 2005 - 2006, but social media became really important around 2008… just a few ones knew the existence of the classic memes. Smartphones were only for rich people.  I just got Macromedia Flash mx 2004 and Paint.Net, learning how to use layers on my own. Having such a mess, but proud of my progress, ALWAYS.

I love so much that part of my life for that reason, because it  is not like now.

People need to check their social media everytime. Posting something everytime to get a thumb up and don’t be forgotten. To be someone and meet a lot of people. I’m not saying this last one is wrong, in this world of artists this is pretty important to have interaction since some of us don’t have friends that share our same stuff in our neighbor, city, country, etc.

The point is, here’s a social pressure to hurry, to make something really big, something awesome and having 15 minutes of fame, even years of fame. To make ‘em enjoy, but never enjoy yourself, because there’s no time to think about yourself. 

You must do something that calls people’s attention and hoping your thing become a trend. If you’re not enough good, you can get ignored, or even worse, being hurt by people that can hide their faces and spit shit on your innocence and your ilussions to become a better person, artist, musician, whatever u want to be.

People that will never read a point of view, because everything must be quick, everyone are posting something, everyone are trying to make something big, some of them are doing it with kindness, others just to get attention. I don’t even know if you will read this, I don’t care. Sometimes I think it is a waste of time sharing these thoughts, but I hope someone who is making the same question, this long post can help in something.

I have met very talented people, VERY very talented people, I talked to them, they shared me their drawings. I tried to show them they were good… but they are totally blind and still call shit themselves and their work.

You don’t have any fucking idea how does it feels to hear/read that… And I hope those guys read this. I don’t feel dissapointed, I feel like if a relative of mine was commited suicide. That’s how I feel.

So…

Think in yourself, please. Take your time, and try to not hate yourself. Try to not hate your skills. Good stuff can come to you, when you stop worrying about it and you start to make an effort.


These kind of asks make me feel terrible for people that are not able to understand this… so please. 


allthatsleepandimstilltiredaf  asked:

Yo blue im on a super duper important quest to find really good lance centric fics, you know, that high quality top shelf kinda stuff. ive already read ur fic but im lookin for more. Got any recs????????

hey there, friend, you came to the right place! sorry this took so long, I made this whole post and then my computer was being difficult and I lost the whole thing, so this is the second time I’m making it! thank you so much for reading when I dream it happens in blue. I’ve got some great new content on the way, but in the meantime, here are some great reads to hold you over!

<<please check ratings and tags, and all of these are a mixture of ratings and subject matter, so please check and read only what’s best for you!>>


7 Times They Noticed by @em-the-cliche

Lance was alright. He was happy. He was fine. Except when he wasn’t.

“Listen. Are you alright?”
“Uh…are you alright?”
“Are you okay buddy?”
“Are…are you in good health, paladin?“
Are…are you okay, paladin?”
“Hey. You okay?”

His team mates, his second family - they noticed.


A Commutual Contract by @skaylanphear

After a terrifying experience during which Lance, seemingly, dies, Keith is haunted by horrible nightmares of holding his comrade in his arms while he took his final breath. To the point where he can’t sleep unless he knows for absolute certain that Lance is alive.

And while the attention is surprising, Lance doesn’t really have a problem with Keith checking up on him. Or the fact that Keith only seems totally comforted when he can cuddle Lance close and hear his heart beat. After all, there’s nothing wrong with two bros cuddling. It doesn’t MEAN anything. Or, at least, that’s what Lance keeps telling himself.


At Rest (Five Miles Behind the Front) by @thisgirlhastales

Shiro is no longer the Black Paladin. He is no longer the commander of Team Voltron. He is a soldier without a purpose and a leader without a legion at his back.

Lance is a seventh wheel. He is not fit to be a leader, and perhaps not even fit to be a Paladin.

Or, in which two Paladins of Voltron learn their true worth, and finally, there is well-earned rest.


Beautiful Minds by PotatoBender

Lance used to be proud of his mental abilities. A pilot. A Paladin. Someone experienced with delving and controlling his mind. But after being captured, and enduring just a single encounter with Haggar, his castle was reduced to rubble.

Rescuing Lance was the easy part - healing him is much, much harder.


Blast Zone by bubblebucky

In the middle of a mission, a bomb going off leaves Lance unable to hear. Still, while he’s deaf, the rest of his team are the ones that won’t listen.


Boom Crash the Sound of My Ship by @maychorian

After a Galra attack splits Voltron, the blue lion is damaged and falls toward the jungle planet below. Shiro follows, and now he and Lance are stranded in hostile territory, fighting to survive. Lance is injured, Shiro is having flashbacks, and help is far away. And the Galra just…keep coming.


Brain storm by @trickstersgambit

Lance managed for years without too many obvious issues. Those who needed to know, knew. Until it became a problem he thought he buried in his awkward early teen years.


calling me to come back by @apvrrish

Keith is a witch who owns a shop where he breaks curses on both magical items and people under spells. Love spells, family curses passed down generations, cursed heirlooms lurking the attic – he can handle them all. But one day a boy named Lance walks into his shop, and his curse is darker and more difficult to break than anything Keith has ever seen before: the curse is draining his magic, and without his magic, Lance will die. 

This is a new favorite of mine!


Dark Blue by @thunder-dor

Lance has a bad habit of comparing himself to his teammates. Lotor needs a Paladin with a weakness.

Or

Lance gets kidnapped and Keith will do anything to get him back.

This is a great fic and Jessie is a writing goddess!!!


Fighting the Surface by @tomminowrites

“Humans have shown quite the impressive drive for survival,” the Galra commander grins. “I want to see you fight against that. The druids claim drowning is quite the painful way to go.“ He tips Lance backward over the water, as Keith and Shiro struggle against their bonds. “If you surface, they die.”

Lance’s eyes widen and he’s pushed backward with a splash.

______

Keith, Shiro, and Lance are taken captive during a mission planet-side. The commander decides he only needs two paladins for interrogation, and decides to have a little fun while they wait for extraction. Lance is thrown into the deep with the threat that if he swims up for air, one of the other two will be shot. Obviously Lance would rather die than allow that.

Later chapters will, of course, deal with Keith and Shiro losing their damn minds thinking Lance just drowned himself for them.

I helped beta this one! It’s good!


Ghost of the FutureShadow of the Past by @zizzani & @wittyy-name

When Lance is thrown through time, his future self from one year ahead is transported to the past in his place.

This Lance is faster, stronger, and markedly more mature. Not only that, but he’s distinctly more intuitive about his teammates and A LOT more touchy with Keith.

The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. Things only get more complicated when the Future Lance can’t seem to remember where he was when the switch happened, and he refuses to reveal anything about his own time for fear of influencing the team’s decisions.

Mirror fic to “Shadow of the Past” by wittyy_name

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When Lance is thrown through time, he finds himself one year in the future, in place of the Lance that should be here.

He finds his team to be remarkably familiar, yet distinctly different. They have more scars, a better grip on the whole saving the universe thing, and over a year’s worth of teamwork to bind them together. But the weirdest part? Keith seems to be a lot more touchy with him. Not that he’s complaining… much.

The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. But despite the fact that they’re still his friends, Lance can’t help but feel a little out of place among a team that’s been through so much with a Lance that just isn’t him. And it doesn’t help that the team is on edge around him, refusing to tell him anything for fear of influencing and changing the past. Things get even more complicated when they have to rely on the team in the past to complete the switch, leaving Lance to little more than sit, wait, and attempt to fill in his future self’s shoes.
___________

Mirror fic to “Ghost of the Future” by Zizzani


give out to give in by @mlp-michaeljones

So typical. So fucking typical, that Lance is the youngest and worst of his siblings, and then the kids come along and he isn’t even the cutest anymore, and he only made fighter pilot because perfect fucking Keith dropped out and even when he piloted a lion he didn’t have a thing like the others, and now he can’t even have Blue. Maybe he was the one to suggest it, but he was barrelling towards this point all along; rock fucking bottom.

When it becomes clear that Allura is a better pilot than him, Lance steps down as the Blue Paladin. It is, after all, the obvious decision. Lance is, and has always been, the afterthought.

But who needs an afterthought?


He Don’t Fuckin Care by ya_ya_rose

Lance knows how to hold his own. But he isn’t indestructible. 


Huddling for Warmth: The Movie by @maychorian

The paladins are heading back to the Castle of Lions after another successful mission when Shiro suddenly realizes that something is wrong. Lance isn’t responding on the comms.


Love and Other Questions by @squirenonny

One week after news of the Kerberos disaster broke, Pidge receives a new Mark–proof that Matt is still alive. She breaks into the Garrison to find him, only to find herself caught up in the fight for the fate of the universe.

Keith keeps his arms covered so he doesn’t have to watch Shiro’s scars compounding on his skin–but doing so means cutting off contact with his romantic soulmate, who greets him each morning with a new (and terrible) pickup line.

Shiro and Matt thought they were the luckiest people alive when they found out they were going to Kerberos together. But Shiro hasn’t seen Matt’s untidy scrawl on his arm in almost a year, and he has no idea if his soulmate is even still alive.

[Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)]


Perihelion by @eclecticinkling

After growing up in the shadow of war, Prince Lance of Altea would give almost anything to bring peace back to his people. So when a Galran ambassador arrives with an offer to make that a reality, Lance knows he can’t refuse. Even if it means binding himself to his enemy’s prince for as long as they both shall live.


say you’re gonna break my fall by @apvrrish

Keith tries to deal with being the leader, and also tries to deal with his feelings about Lance. It’s a process.

Keith looks up and sees Lance staring at him, head tilted at an angle. His eyes are just barely visible through the visor, but his mouth is twisted into a puzzled curve.

“Sorry,” Keith says, flushing. “Lost in thought.”

“You okay?” Lance asks, falling into step alongside him as they follow the others out of the ship.


so much more than space dust by @ad-asterism

When a cryopod malfunctions, Lance is left with amnesia. As he struggles to figure out where he fits in the new formation of the team, the rest of Voltron is racing against the clock to figure out where Lotor will strike next- and their only clue is hidden somewhere in Lance’s lost memories. Lance will have to find a way to remember what he’s missing- or come to terms with what he’s forgotten.


Taking One For The Team by YukiSetsu

A mission gone wrong lands Lance and Pidge in a dangerous situation. When communication with the rest of the team is compromised, they have to take drastic measures to escape. Pidge can only hope that they get out before things get worse and one of them breaks. Especially Lance.


The Reluctant Soldier by @banditywrites

Lance is badly injured on a mission and struggles with his role as sharpshooter.


Thirty-One Days by SidneyJean

Lance experiences loss, in all its ugly faces, for the first time after beginning his journey as a Paladin and discovers just how that changes a person over time. It…doesn’t happen the way he expected. The people around him begin to change, and so does he.


Trembling Lips by @newtsckamander

Lance is an emotional person who cries easily (and does the trembly-lip thing a lot) but tries to stay strong in front of the team.

OR

Five times Lance stopped himself from crying in front of his teammates, and the one time he couldn’t hold it back.


Universal Fates by @celty-me

Alfor, Zarkon, Trigel, Gyrgan, and Blaytz set off on missions across the galaxy to gather pieces of an artifact so Alfor can complete Voltron.

Zarkon encounters a human boy with a missing arm fighting as a gladiator.
Trigel encounters an enslaved young human girl whose genius is being exploited.
Gyrgan encounters a human boy who disabled a pirate ship he and his people had been chasing.
King Alfor encounters a young half-galra boy who aids the king and Coran when they are cornered by bandits.
Blaytz encounters an Altean boy enslaved on a slave trading planet.

Each ally feels compelled to rescue and adopt the orphans they encounter, setting the wheels of fate into motion.

While each child carries the scars of their past, they form bonds too strong to ever be broken. They will find friendship and family with each other, and maybe love, even as events threaten everything they know and care for.


wanna be known by you by @bluewriters

Sometimes Lance feels like he’s been stained blue, the colour of his lion seeping through his skin as he chokes on cold stardust, and he is drowning in waves of blue, blue ocean. Lance has never been afraid of the ocean before.

He rolls over and turns off the lights. He doesn’t sleep.


Watching You Fall by @emerald-ashes

Shiro couldn’t find Lance. He knew he was in danger after his communications ended abruptly. But he certainly wasn’t prepared to find Lance dying on the floor of a Galra base during one their missions.


Words Fail by EagleInFlight

A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance’s mind. To escape, they must delve through Lance’s memories. Lance learns that in order to save his friends, he has to stop running. But to stop running means to face the worst of himself.

attention | jjk.
  • summary: “It’s like she got my attention for just a second, just one glance and that’s all it took. And now she’s all I can think about.”
  • genre: fluff, angst and some smut because it’s college! au.
  • words: 10,260 words.
  • warnings: drinking mention. smoking mention. vomit mention.
  • authors note: based loosely on charlie puth’s song attention. i had lots of fun writing this! sorry it took me so long to post again, but i’ve been trying for a long time. i hope you have as fun reading it as i did writing it. also jiimin is highly featured in this fic. - mo

Originally posted by jjks

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aspoonfuloflanguage  asked:

Hey! So I recently got a new job and moved to a new city and don't get me wrong I'm very grateful... but ya girl's stressed, exhausted, and a little bit lonely. Do you have any advice and/or a funny story to help me through the week?

last night, sam went upstate and took his little nieces and nephews out trick-or-treating. naturally, steve and nat and  i went with him, to help establish him as “The Coolest Uncle Ever: Even Better Than Uncle Terry, Who Is A Cool Cop And Always Smells Like Vanilla.” or at least, that’s why nat and steve went. i just went to heckle sam. 

(as an aside: the dawning realization that i experienced when sam’s sister’s kids came running at him, yelling “Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam!” was incredible. Uncle Sam hangs out with Captain America. perfect. )

anyway, sam has–i think–six nieces and nephews. i think. they kept running around and it was hard to count. also, there may have been twins. i’m not sure about that–it may have been one child who kept changing costumes. it made me very grateful that i only ever had to look after steve and becca. 

the youngest of the little monsters was named seth. seth was three and a half, which he would proudly indicate with his pudgy little fingers whenever prompted. and sometimes without prompting. this was seth’s first halloween. as per sam’s family tradition, seth was decked out in a worn green dinosaur onesie, which came included with dino-face hood and very plush tail. every one of the kids wore it at some point, and after tessa’s (age 7) discovery that dinosaurs had feathers, it now includes a few dozen white feathers sewn onto the ends of the sleeves and tail. 

seth was delighted with this. he spent most of the pre-trick-or-treating time running around growling at people. 

when all the kids were ready to go, sam’s sister lined them up next to the door and dished out the rules: stay in a group, don’t leave anyone behind, don’t go into anyone’s house, etc. we adults were told that the kids were allowed to run along the sidewalks, but had to wait with an adult at the end of each block. when she’d gotten confirmations from the whole group, she opened the door and they went roaring out like a stampede of very tiny bison. we followed after. 

the group veered left right out the door. the house is in a suburb, nice and well lit and very safe, so we let them get a little distance on us. seth was at the back of the pack: his little dino-head tipped down for the charge, pudgy arms and legs pumping like a locomotive, tail like a rudder behind him. 

the rest of the kids charged up the next door neighbor’s driveway. head down, seth kept going.

the rest of the group got their candy and bolted towards the next house, easily overtaking the little dino that could. 

unsure what was happening, steve and sam and nat and I waited at the end of the block. the oldest kids got to us first and compared their loot while we waited. seth pulled up soon after, having eliminated the going-up-to-houses stage and gained ground on the middle children. when he caught sight of the other kid’s candy, he was visibly confused. 

sam got down on his level and asked what was up. 

apparently, a misunderstanding had occurred. seth believed that halloween was a race, and the winners got bags full of candy. no one had actually explained the whole getting-candy-from-strangers part to him. 

seth was devastated that he’d missed a whole block’s worth of loot, so steve scooped him up piggyback and took off at a dead run, which is pretty impressive. i once saw steve outrun a horse. he and seth went full-out. by the time the rest of the kids had gathered with the rest of us, steve had re-done the whole block. and he only jumped three cars to do it in time. 

seth’s candy bag was rapidly filled by the neighbors, who managed to stop gaping long enough to extend their candy bowls. seth himself barely noticed, as he was too busy clinging to steve’s hair and shrieking. 

tessa was very jealous, and commandeered me as a steed for the next block. the rest of the kids quickly demanded the same from nat and sam. (sam’s “i do what he does, only slower” was not a great selling point for the kids, who wanted to go faster, sam.

so we spend the rest of the evening doing piggy-back halloween speedruns.

seth got a lot of candy.

You can find the corrected version of this post here on Ao3. -Mod Hell