claim to glory

Breakdown

This chapter is a weird one because it was inspired by a number of things: @themarginalartist’s InkDad Henry (loosely), an illustration that popped out at me by @the-vampire-inside-me and various illustrations from @shinyzango, of course.

So…sorry if this may seem like a mess. xD

Once again, this story is inspired by Zango’s 2D Bendy AU which is, and always has been, amazing.

Enjoy!

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2

There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, 
and many of us will have to pass through
the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.

Sigourney Weaver as Desdemona
Irrfan Khan as Dr. Carrington
Anthony Mackie as Tinker Tom
Billy Zane as Deacon
Zoe Saldana as Glory
Armie Hammer as Drummer Boy

Fun events/M!A’s?? Let’s give it a try!

❣ – VISITOR – A creature has paid a visit to your muse, and they show little signs of being a benevolent soul.

♚ – STARVED – Your muse suddenly becomes very hungry for power, willing to do anything to reach the top and claim glory.

☠ – TOXIC – Your muse has lost any faith in life and humanity and decide to take action, and may deal with that as they may.

☒ – CENSORED – Your muse can no longer tell the truth, and they only speak in lies.

✒ – REVEALING – Your muse cannot lie, and can only speak the truth, whether they know it is true or not.

⇺ – REVERSE – We see an event from your muse’s past, played out in full, as specified by the asker.

웃 – IDENTITY – Your muse must switch bodies with another muse, as specified by the asker (with permission from other blog).

✁ – PERSONA – Your muse will lose a trait of their personality, specified by the asker. 

☻ – DECEIT – Your muse will act as their polar opposite.

✷ – KIN – All asks will  be directed towards a family member of your muse.

❥ – STARCROSSED – Your muse will fall in love with another muse of the asker’s choice.

† – HOLY – Your muse will become an angel or demon, as specified by the asker.

❇ – MUTATION – Your muse will transform into some kind of monster or animal, specified either by asker or left to mun’s imagination.

π – TECHNOLOGICAL – Your muse has become an automaton.

☢ – DISEASED – Your muse has now fallen incredibly ill with a mysterious disease and must be taken care of.

⌚ – CLOCKWORK – Your muse is now older or younger, as specified by the asker.

♘ – PURITY – Your muse wants nothing more than to help others and see to their well-being.

✾ – INHABITATION – Your muse has become possessed by another, foreign entity.

¿ – ALTERNATIVE – Your muse is now part of an alternate universe (crossovers included) of the asker’s choosing.

ᵜ – ANIMALIA – Your muse is now a half-animal being (animal is specified by asker).

☐ – LAME – Your muse loses one of their senses, specified by asker.

✷ – MAGICA – Your muse develops magical powers, as specified by asker or left to mun’s imagination.

◌ – ABSENT – Your muse has amnesia and cannot remember anything about themselves.

Eyeshadow Part 3

A/N: Part 1, Part 2, read on ao3

Here’s part three because everyone needs three chapters in 24 hours. There’s more angst here >:)

There will be another part after this I promise.


Roman had accused him of hating the others. How could he ever hate them? He loved Roman. Not that he would ever say anything. Not that Roman would ever feel the same. Why would he. Roman was a literal prince and he was just Anxiety. Just the monster that kept Thomas up at night, bothering him with ideas of things in closets and under the bed when he was the real monster. All he ever did was ruin everyone’s day.

Stupid foolish Roman. Of course Anxiety would get confused. Nobody had ever shown him even the slightest amount of care. A random gift out on nowhere? Of course he didn’t believe it. He himself had even joked about ‘slaying the monster.’ The monster being Anxiety of course. How had he never thought about how that might feel from Anxiety’s point of view.

The moment Roman got inside his room he shut the door and flopped into his bed, flying back through every memory where he had cast Anxiety aside and claimed all the glory for himself. How could he have done that? What sort of prince was he, to hurt those he claimed to defend?

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Updated Magic Anon List!

❣ – VISITOR – A creature has paid a visit to your muse, and they show little signs of being a benevolent soul.

♚ – STARVED – Your muse suddenly becomes very hungry for power, willing to do anything to reach the top and claim glory.

☠ – TOXIC – Your muse has lost any faith in life and humanity and decide to take action, and may deal with that as they may.

☒ – CENSORED – Your muse can no longer tell the truth, and they only speak in lies.

✒ – REVEALING – Your muse cannot lie, and can only speak the truth, whether they know it is true or not.

⇺ – REVERSE – We see an event from your muse’s past, played out in full, as specified by the asker.

웃 – IDENTITY – Your muse must switch bodies with another muse, as specified by the asker (with permission from other blog).

℺ – MEDULA – Your muse will switch personalities with another muse (with permission from another blog) or adopt the personality of another muse of the asker’s choice.

✁ – PERSONA – Your muse will lose a trait of their personality, specified by the asker.

☻ – DECEIT – Your muse will act as their polar opposite.

✷ – KIN – All asks will  be directed towards a family member of your muse.

❥ – STARCROSSED – Your muse will fall in love with another muse of the asker’s choice.

† – HOLY – Your muse will become an angel or demon, as specified by the asker.

❇ – MUTATION – Your muse will transform into some kind of monster or animal, specified either by asker or left to mun’s imagination.

⊛ – WITHIN – Muse becomes their spirit animal.

π – TECHNOLOGICAL – Your muse has become an automaton.

☢ – DISEASED – Your muse has now fallen incredibly ill with a mysterious disease and must be taken care of.

⌚ – CLOCKWORK – Your muse is now older or younger, as specified by the asker.

♘ – PURITY – Your muse wants nothing more than to help others and see to their well-being.

✾ – INHABITATION – Your muse has become possessed by another, foreign entity.

¿ – ALTERNATIVE – Your muse is now part of an alternate universe (crossovers included) of the asker’s choosing.

ᵜ – ANIMALIA – Your muse is now a half-animal being (animal is specified by asker).

☐ – LAME – Your muse loses one of their senses, specified by asker.

✷ – MAGICA – Your muse develops magical powers, as specified by asker or left to mun’s imagination.

◌ – ABSENT – Your muse has amnesia and cannot remember anything about themselves.

♔ – OBEDIENCE – Your muse must obey any commend given to them, or any command given to them by a specified Master.

♡ – LIBIDO – Your muse’s sex drive has gone overactive, and they will lust after anyone they see or after a specific person, as specified by the asker.

☿ – PRONOUN – Your muse is now of the opposite sex or gender. If they are transgender, they have the body they aspire to have. If they are nonbinary, the mun can decide what this will mean.

☯ – SEPARATED – Your muse will be split into two opposing halves based on their personality.

の – NEGATORY – Your muse will only be able to deny things and say no, no matter what is being asked of them.

☣ – INTOXICATION – Your muse is very high on a particular intoxicant/drug, as specified by the asker.

▨ – TRANSPARENCY – Your muse is now a ghost separated from their body and cannot be easily seen, heard, or felt by any living person.

☤ – MISFORTUNE – Your muse has a terrible accident and barely survives.

♛ – HIGHNESS – Your muse becomes that of royalty and/or high status.

Can’t believe people are calling rogue one an unnecessary movie, fan service etc… because the characters not fun or interesting
This is the only genuine star wars movie that made me cry
I like the idea of normal characters because it shows the lives of the rebellion are based on the normal people who are thrown into some shitty situations as opposed to some chosen badass character like luke or rey also the fact that they are normal unknown people who create opportunities for more mythological characters of the franchise to make them claim their glory

i am so serious when i say that hermione is third generation west indian/jamaican and her doctor parents pushed her to value education bc that’s how you move up in the world

i am so serious when i say that snape is from the caribbean side of colombia and learned his english from james bond movies like from russia with love, and as a kid, equated his magical heritage as claiming some form of glory that meant being known by only your last name, “snape - severo snape.”

i am so serious when i say the potters were independently successful purebloods that immigrated fully to britain from colonial india in the 19th century and have a long history of resistant political activism

i am so, so very serious when i say that being witches and wizards of color in britain in a post-colonial period had a huge impact on how they approached their wizarding education. 

I want to talk about Cassian...

Because of course I do. But I have been having some thoughts about him and his position both within the Inner Circle but also what he does in a wider sense for Rhys and the Night Court and the challenges he must have faced in doing so. 

“And we’re not lesser faeries, though some try to call us that. We’re just—Illyrians. Considered expendable aerial cavalry for the Night Court at the best of times, mindless soldier grunts at the worst.
“Which is most of the time,” Azriel clarified.

I want to consider how this idea must have shaped Cassian (and Azriel)’s time in the Night Court. This is the court a large chunk of which rejected Rhys – the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history in part because he was half-Illyrian. I don’t think it’s a huge stretch to imagine that this prideful court might not have reacted altogether that well when their armies were placed under the command of a bastard born pure Illyrian warrior like Cassian.

To them the Illyrians are ‘expendable’ or else ‘mindless soldier grunts’ they’re arrow fodder, they’re the consistent vanguard that does the brunt of the damage and takes the brunt of the blows from the oncoming battle and protects the far more important, far more valuable High Fae and faerie warriors of the Night Court behind them. They’re a shield and a battering ram, a tool to be used and little more.

I can’t imagine that they took well to having Cassian placed over them as commander, no matter how he might have proved himself in battle these sort of stereotypes and ways of thinking aren’t something you overcome because of a few good war stories. I can only imagine the backlash that Cassian suffered as a result of this and how these people he would lay down his life to protect more than likely thought him entirely unworthy of his position, unworthy of respect, unworthy of the honour of command, unworthy to lead them.

But I don’t really want to focus too much on that aspect of it. I want to focus on Cassian. And I want to focus on the way in which I think he would have won these warriors over (because he still commands Rhys’ armies. If he’d been unable to do so, unable to earn their loyalty and obedience he wouldn’t)

Methods of controlling/keeping subjects and inferiors in line is something that is brought up in this series. It’s not given a huge amount of attention but it is there. Tamlin is a good example of the other side of Cassian’s coin.

Tamlin and the Spring Court before him is steeped in a tradition of control and control through fear. This is seen on a small scale with the way in which Tamlin responds to Lucien pushing back, he belittles Lucien, “Did I ask for your opinion?”  and uses his considerable power to punish Lucien for an insolent look (a punishment we’re never shown which adds to the sense of fear) 

But it’s seen on a larger scale with the Tithe. People are expected to pay their dues to him and they turn up and do so yes because it’s a symbiotic balance in a way – they provide for Tamlin and he keeps them safe – but also from the fear of him hunting them down and executing them if they don’t do as they’re commanded.

This method is no doubt successful but in the long term it has some very serious, gaping flaws. Ruling with fear leaves little room for anything else and I don’t think it inspires a whole lot of loyalty or respect.

The flip side of this is I think the method that Cassian would have used to bind his warriors to him. I can’t see Cassian ordering brutal punishments or executions for those who refuse to fall in line with him (largely because initially this would likely have meant executing pretty much everyone) I don’t think fear or brutality would have appealed in the least to Cassian (I don’t think he’s a pushover; and if someone betrays them or acts out of turn he will punish them) but initially, making people fall in because they fear him isn’t something I can see him doing.

I think Cassian would have won them to him with love. With compassion and empathy and that heart of his. I think Cassian, the greatest warrior Rhys has ever known, doesn’t use that aspect of himself to command fear and make his men too terrified of his wrath to disobey them – I think he inspires love in his men and I think this love breeds the loyalty and respect that Tamlin is lacking which is why Cassian has been so successful as a commander in the past.

Rhys loosed a breath. “…I’ve witnessed Cassian rip apart opponents and then puke his guts up once the carnage stopped, sometimes even mourn them.

There’s such compassion in Cassian, raw, strong, utterly unapologetic compassion. I think that in spite of being one of the strongest Illyrians in history and being loaded with the killing power, despite everything that’s been done to him and everything he’s seen Cassian retains quite a tender heart. Which is so rare from this type of male character? The cocky warrior with the skills and title to back that up is allowed to have that gentleness to him, is allowed to respond to the things he’s done in this way, is allowed to throw his guts up after killing, is allowed to mourn his enemy because he feels what he’s done so keenly.

Cassian is a warrior at heart. Born and bred and trained to be one of the best killers in Prythian but I think he’s far deeper and more complex than that. He is not only a warrior. He is a trainer and a brother, a friend, a lover and a dreamer. He is not defined by this warrior status. He is not a bloodthirsty killer who delights in battle and argues for war as the way forward in every instance. He is a fighter – the best Rhys has ever come across – but he doesn’t relish it. He doesn’t relish violence or death. He doesn’t take any pleasure in it. He doesn’t claim glory from the things he’s done or the title he holds.

Cassian shrugged, wings tucking in tighter. “I command Rhys’s armies.”
As if such a position were something that one shrugged off. 

But for Cassian that is the way he responds to it because that may be the title that he holds but it is not who he is. It does not define him. His pride does not lie in the number of warriors he has at his disposal, the number of men he can send to slaughter and die. It does not lie in the great, bloody deeds he’s done in war. It does not lie in the people he has killed. It lies in the people he has saved. Which is why Cassian mourns his enemies, the people he’s killed, the people that need not have died, the people that might have been saved and weren’t. All of them. Friend or foe.

When she finally noticed Cassian, she looked up at him.
His voice was rough as he said, “Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.”

This I think is one of the most telling and important moments for sussing out who Cassian is and that last line in particular I think is one of the most defining Cassian quotes I can think of. It tells you what he values, it tells you what he loves, it tells you why he fights which is the most important question for someone like Cassian in the position that he’s in. He must always be ready to fight and die; he must always be able to rationalise it and justify it and live with it afterwards especially when he responds to death the way he does: he must know why he fights and what for.

This is a man who fights because he must. This is a man who fights not for glory or honour or riches or legacy or for the simple pleasure of violence and killing. This is a man who fights for love. For compassion. A man who does these things because he has to, to protect those who cannot protect themselves - for this he will die, for this he will blacken his soul and bloody his hands with the acts of war that make him sick to his stomach again and again and again. To defend those who need it most.

The wrappings around my hands were now mere smudges of soot. Cassian’s upraised palms remained before me—ready to take the blow, if I needed to make it. “I’m all right,” he said quietly. Gently.
And maybe I was exhausted and broken, but I breathed, “I killed them.”
I hadn’t said the words aloud since it had happened.
Cassian’s lips tightened. “I know.” Not condemnation, not praise. But grim understanding.

This whole scene is beautifully written and put together and incredibly moving and it’s something I fully intend to meta on and pick apart much more completely than this when I reach it again in ACOMAF. But for Feyre for her recovery, for her grief and guilt this moment where she expresses it out loud is a huge turning point for her and incredibly important. But for Cassian too, for understanding him it’s hugely important for his character as well.

This was one of the first moments where I truly saw Cassian; saw the man behind the fighting leathers and the cocky smiles, saw to that burning heart he has inside. This is a point at which you realise that Cassian is a fighter and a warrior and a killer but in spite of all that, deep down, I don’t think that’s what defines him the most. It’s not the core of him, it’s not the heart of him. It’s an aspect of him, a very important one but it’s not the be all and end all of his character or existence.

Which again is something we very rarely see from characters like Cassian who are built up to be great warriors and fighters. They’re so rarely allowed to have the raw emotion that Cassian has. They would so rarely be allowed to make an admission like this, to respond in this way to an act of selfless heroism. He doesn’t try and rationalise it for her or justify it or offer her glory or try and brush it off. He doesn’t pity her. He doesn’t condemn her. He doesn’t praise her. He just understands her.

This is a man of empathy. A man who looks at Feyre Cursebreaker, the girl they hero worship for the thing that makes her vomit her guts up every single night, the thing that torments her awake and asleep, the thing that makes her feel that ‘it should have been me’ and simply says ‘I know’.

 Cassian understands this, understands her, because when history remembers them their legacy will not be cold sweats and fickle dreams. It will not be their grief and sadness for every death on every side. It will be as heroes. With no thought of the price of that heroism, the weight they carry, the blood they can never wash off. It will remember him as the army leader, one of the strongest Illyrians in history, the greatest warrior of his age. It will remember the people he killed. The great deeds he performed. The slaughter and the glory of the warrior incarnate. I hope it does not forget why. I hope it does not forget his heart. 

anonymous asked:

Stupid question. Who IS big blue?

Omfg is that yalls name for him???? Im assuming u are talking about Goliath lol. I write the names of all my ocs everytime i draw them….if u havent noticed.

But he is the worlds greatest underground monster boxer! Thak wanted to become the best to defeat him and claim the title for glory but once he was beaten by him, all he wanted was to be trained by him. And maybe smooched >w>

Arthurian Legend in Trollhunters

I marathoned Trollhunters a week ago, and I think I’m just getting more addicted to this show with each passing day! ^_^

And I have to know, does one else just love the connections and allusions to Arthurian legend? I’m a huge fan of Arthurian myth myself, and while not essential, I find this aspect of Trollhunters to be icing on the cake!

Things I’ve noticed:

-It’s actually mentioned in interview that Jim’s armor was inspired by the movie Excalibur (1981), a King Arthur fantasy film. I can definitely see it; before even reading that interview, the armor was already reminding me of knight-based films, including Excalibur. One noteworthy thing is that, in both Excalibur and Trollhunters, the armor seems to have its own glow.

-Speaking of Excalibur, Daylight basically is a bit like Excalibur, an exemplary and legendary sword of exquisite beauty and immense power. While Arthur was not the only one capable of wielding Excalibur like Jim is with Daylight, there is an essence of the wielder of the sword being a “chosen one” by magical means.

-They also visually reference the “sword in the stone” legend in the first episode…twice. It’s done comically, mind you, but still. Arthur draws the sword from the stone to prove he is the true king. Jim still draws the sword from the stone and holds it aloft as Strickler’s voiceover proclaims the amulet has found its champion. So Daylight is used as an allusion to the Sword in the Stone and Excalibur, the two fabled swords of Arthur.

-Of course, the obvious Arthurian reference is that the Trollhunter’s amulet is the amulet of Merlin! (Guillermo del Toro has admitted he was going for “an Arthurian steampunk” vibe with the amulet’s design.) They even call the Trollhunter “Merlin’s Champion.” Merlin’s name is also mentioned in the riddle left by Bodus: The Myrddin Wylt obscured a Shadow’s bane. As Claire stated, “Myrddin Wylt” is an ancient name for Merlin (Welsh, to be precise). So I’m guessing, in this universe, there was an actual Merlin who made the amulet.

-Of course, Bodus’ riddle leaves us to wonder why Merlin, who, according to Kanjigar, crafted the Trollhunter’s armor “with a single purpose in mind: to protect both our worlds,” would “obscure” the very items capable of taking down a dark evil like Gunmar rather than having them available to the Trollhunter. What sort of dark secrets lay in the past of these artifacts that prompted Merlin to hide them? Why doesn’t he want the Trollhunter using them? They are dark items of evil origin - the Birth Stone, the thing that birthed Gunmar; the Killing Stone, a thing Gunmar killed, and Gunmar’s eye, a thing from Gunmar himself - so are they safe to use at all? Does using them spell trouble for Jim?

-If there was a Merlin, there was probably a King Arthur. But wait…if the Trollhunter is “Merlin’s Champion,” was Arthur a Trollhunter? But that would mean he would have to be a troll. Del Toro has claimed the incantation “For the glory of Merlin…” hints at the amulet’s origins and has promised to explore that later in the series, so…will we find out King Arthur was a troll? Or maybe one of his knights was a troll. (Man, a troll Lancelot with a human Arthur and Guinevere would be more than a little awkward.)

-Wait…what if Arthur wasn’t a normal troll? What if he was a Changeling? Hence why humans would remember him as human, but he was actually a troll.

-Or perhaps King Arthur was simply a human during the time of Merlin who showed friendship to the trolls.

-And if there is a Merlin and an Arthur, could there be a Morgan Le Fay? Could that be the mysterious witch who cursed Angor Rot?! She is called Argante, Lady Pale, Baba Yaga, and Eldritch Queen. Baba Yaga is a ferocious-looking witch from Slavic folklore and Lady Pale refers to “white ladies,” ghosts or images of female figures in folklore the world over. But what’s interesting here is Eldritch Queen and Argante. Argante is often cited as the queen of Avalon in Arthurian myth. She’s often equated with - get this - Morgan Le Fay. Furthermore, Morgan Le Fay is often said to be queen of the fairies or “fay people.” “Eldritch” means “weird and sinister or ghostly” and is often used to refer to something sinister, but what’s interesting is that it’s based on the Middle English word for “fairyland.” “Eldritch Queen” could mean “ghostly queen of the fairies”…exactly what Morgan Le Fay was in many Arthurian myths. This is backed by the fact that she sent Angor Rot to kill the Trollhunters, “Merlin’s champions,” for Morgan Le Fay is almost always shown at odds with Merlin.

Well, I thought that I was just going to geek out over King Arthur, but now I’m throwing out legit Trollhunters theories. Ah, I love it! XD

Captain Swan AU Prompt Series No. 5 (D)

No.1: Alphabet City

No.2: Of Singing and Streaking

No.3: Lie to Me (I’ll lie to you, too)

No.4: Like Toy Soldiers

No. 5 (A): We’re Going Down Swinging Part 1

No. 5 (B): We’re Going Down Swinging Part 2

No. 6: Bend, and Don’t Break

No. 7 (A): Speak Now Part 1

No. 7 (B): Speak Now Part 2

No. 5 ( C ) We’re Going Down Swinging Part 3

No. 4: Like Toy Soldiers Part 2

No. 8 (A) It’s Always Been You (And You Should Know That)

No. 9: The Art of Remembering

No. 10 For Your Consideration

No. 8 (B) It’s Always Been you (And You Should Know That)


We’re Going Down Swinging- Part 4

Present day

Something has shifted at camp, and it takes no special powers to see it. As the summer gets hotter, the anger and tension between Killian and Emma cools. It starts slowly, and simply-

(-working together to square away the boats and ropes after sailing lessons, rather than leaving their fellow counselor with all the work in a bid to get as much distance between them as possible. Though silence still reigns between them, it’s an easier one, more peaceful, a sharp contrast to the tense, suffocating version from the beginning of camp.

-Killian saving a grilled cheese from the breakfast rush because Will and Viktor are bottomless pits and Emma, also a bottomless pit, always gets hangry and irritable if she doesn’t have a mid-morning snack. He says it’s to keep her from annoying him. She says nothing except rumble her thanks as she eats, smiling sheepishly at him between giant bites when he is no longer looking.

-Emma stopping by his afternoon water-skiing lesson, and dropping off a freshly chilled water bottle because he’s always been terrible about drinking enough, along with a tube of sunscreen, because he’s even worse at that. She says it’s to keep him from bitching and moaning about his sunburn during the campfire at night. He says nothing, save smirk and toast to her retreating back as she stalks away. 

-they arrive at meals together sometimes, and then more times, until they arrive together more often than not. They still do not sit by each other, but no one misses how the distance between them at the table gets smaller and smaller each time, and how conversation, previously avoided like the plague, slowly starts to trickle through-)

-before progressing to a point that Ruby, observing Emma and Killian chivying their band of trouble makers into some semblance of order, working in tandem, never missing a beat, words, smiles and laughter flowing easily between them, comments on how it was almost like a blast to the past, a scene right out of high school. She’s quickly shushed by Elsa, as if calling attention to the two might upset the delicate balance they have managed to strike, and perhaps such care is warranted. For all the improvement between Emma and Killian, the past and whatever happened between them is still soundly ignored, with all the characteristic determination that is both their hallmarks. 

Mary Margaret sighs and murmurs that it can’t be healthy, while David silently nods his agreement. Regina rolls her eyes and reiterates for maybe the thousandth time that it’s high time the two grew up and got over whatever high school drama drove a wedge between them. Robin simply shakes his head at that statement, because he knows as well as she does that asking Emma and Killian to get over each other is akin to asking someone to move an ocean. Viktor and Will simply up the stakes in their betting pool, because they know the truth as well as everyone else does-something big is going to happen soon. Whether it’s good or bad, that, no one can tell, but they all know it’s coming, as sure as the sun rose and the moon waned.

…No one mentions the looming end of their time at camp.

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doctorflashtardiscold  asked:

Hey. Sorry if you have had this before, but do you have any Peter Parker and Tony Stark mentorship and friendship head canons, or any Hank Pym and Tony Stark Headcanons?

I don’t really know/like Hank Pym much, so I’m focussing more on Peter&Tony. I was going to focus more on their overall relationship but then I babbled about the first time Tony took Peter to his labs… sorry. 

  • When Tony first lets Peter into his lab, the teenager looks around with huge eyes. He’s quiet as Tony sweeps an arm over the broad expanse of the room and continues his long, babbling stream of dialogue, telling Peter about security protocols and new holos and Iron Man suits. He’s quiet as he shuffles in, eyes taking in every detail. He’s quiet as Tony mentions not to touch anything.
  • He’s quiet as he touches absolutely everything
  • “What did I just say?” Tony asks, grabbing Peter by the collar and tugging him away from a half-finished block of tech that angrily whirls and hisses smoke and sparks at them. “Am I talking to myself? Do you think I just like to hear the dullecent tones of my own voice? Am I speaking Spanish?”
  • “I can speak Spanish,” Peter says, the first thing he’s voiced since being lead down the winding steps into the technological candy-land.
  • “No, you can’t, kid. I’ve seen your Spanish scores at school.”
  • “You’re seen my grades?” Peter frowns; Tony has the distinct impression the subject is being changed until he’s the one being scolded. “That’s kind of creepy, dude. Isn’t that, like, illegal? To hack into school systems?”
  • “He says, because he’s done it before,” Tony tells his bot. Dum-E spins in a loose, uneven circle on the floor, one arm waggling like a dog’s tail.
  • Peter rubs at the back of his neck. “Don’t tell Aunt May.”
  • They go through the lab, Tony pointing out things, Peter watching with wide eyes and interjecting sporadically. He keeps touching things. Tony has to stay near him and yank him back, like he’s an untrained puppy, or a sticky fingered toddler, or the little, disobedient shit that Tony remembers being at the age. He wonders, briefly, what he was thinking when he recruited the vigilante. 
  • Dum-E follows them around the lab. He seems hesitant about Peter at first, then grows confident when the teenager only beams at his presence, and coaxes him forward.
  • “Don’t encourage him,” Tony scolds.
  • “I won’t,” Peter promises, and then gets down on one knee, and lets Dum-E sidle up close to him, running one gentle hand down his support strut, like he’s patting a dog, looking awed and excited by the bot’s happy wiggling. 
  • “That right there? That’s you encouraging him.”
  • You peeks out from being a workbench and loops around Tony, zipping to the newcomer now that his brother is receiving pats and attention. Peter pats him, too. 
  • “It’s not my fault they like me more,” Peter says airily, You and Dum-E bucking happily under his hands.
  • “Disrespect,” Tony says, arms crossed, trying to look like the responsible, respect-worthy adult he’s supposed to be. “That’s what this is; disrespect. Child, you should respect your elders, and their spaces, and their rules–”
  • “Can we order pizza?” Peter cuts in.
  • “What did I just say–”
  • “Pizza order placed,” says Friday, his AI sounding clear and unashamed as Peter beams. “It should be here soon, Mr. Parker.”
  • “Mr. Parker,” Peter echoes, pleased. “No one’s ever called me Mister, unless I’m in trouble.”
  • “Oh,” Tony says, frowning at the entire room, at his disobedient bots, at his disobedient protege, “you’re definitely in trouble, Mr. Parker.”
A letter to the Young Black Activist

They never taught me about the black women that sent white men to space.
They never told me about the black trans women who led and bled for the lgbt community.
They never told me about the black men that died in greatness so that others could claim their glory.
They told us our history starts with slavery so that we forgot about the royalty we held in Africa.
I will tell my children, I will teach the students, I will make their paths known.
This revolution is not new, this experience is not an anomaly.
Every darker child in American history from the generations before us has felt the creeping noose of discrimination at their clavicle. Many died in the tree before ever taking an unrestricted breath.
I am thankful to the grandparents of the non white millennial for laying Jim Crow shields around their offspring and teaching the downward gaze that sometimes minimized the brutality but the time has come to shout as loud as their silence.
The elderly should not have to finish what America halted. Pick up your pen, open your laptop, shout at the march and bear your souls at the foot of every courthouse in the nation.
This revolution will not come without sacrifice and community action plans will not glide over morning toast like margarine.
It will be molasses, dark and slow spilling into our glands. Our pores may clog but sweat will push through and we can become one with the message before it is one with the people.
We must carry this sweetness just as we do our melanin, we must hold our dirtied hands and bind together.
Tomorrow is too late a promise for action.
Mobilize the movement.

-Eli Brown - mixed trans poet - 2/2/17

the ‘we finally realized out feelings for each other after saving each other’s ass’ AU that literally nobody asked for. inspired by this post by duckydrawsart. it was meant to portray a platonic relationship between them but my hand slipped oops sorry not sorry

Title: from the flames

Pairing: Keith/Lance

Rating: T (Mild Depictions of Violence)


Lance sputtered out the ashes coating his tongue.

Smoke swirled in the air and he choked on the pervading grey, the lifeless waste that the Galras left behind marking the terrain as conquered. Voltron had been separated, Keith and him sent on this wild goose chase for a red herring that (literally) blasted in their faces, forcing them to evacuate everyone within this doomed vicinity. Fires raged unchecked behind them, and he could see Keith breathing hard.

His anger shone through and Lance held back the urge to check him and tell him that the Galra escaping was all his fault. Keith was the one who had been blindsided, who suggested that they swarm a ship that turned out to be a decoy that nearly blasted halfway across the mountains had it not been for Blue and Red keeping them out of the explosion’s way. Come pinga.

The Galra were probably laughing, calling them names and raising their fluffy ears in joy. Lance boiled.

“Great going, Keith. We should’ve followed my suggestion to join the rest but nooo you had to play the hero.”

“I wasn’t,” Keith bristled. “I wanted to see what that ship was doing here.”

“Next time, maybe you could take my plans into account,” the Blue Paladin remarked dryly, brushing off the last of the ashes from his shoulder.

Keith had no reply. Lance had stunned him.

He wanted to walk back into Blue when a loud crash made him stop. Keith looked up and they were instantly surrounded with droids, the Galra apparently not having their fill of blood lust. Lance couldn’t think or formulate a reason; his instinct to fight was already up.

“Lance! Watch out!” Keith activated his bayard and slashed through the closest soldier, a loud grunt echoing as he fell. He had been a breath away from turning Lance into Lance-noodles.

“I got your back!” Lance yelled, shooting off at the mass of purple coming their way, Keith’s back flush with his.

“Where did they come from?” he asked, and Lance had no answer, holding his ground as the force from his bayard sent him sliding a few inches into the dead soil.

“No clue – Mierda!

Lance ducked in time as a sword sliced through his concentration. Keith viciously stabbed the soldier and radioed in the rest of the team.

“Guys, we have a problem!”

Shiro’s voice cackled through the comm. “We have one at our hands, too.”

“The Galra decided that attacking Primera’s core was the smartest and we have a melting planet on our hands,” Pidge added.

“Joy!” Lance gritted out. “We’re fighting a whole group of em’.”

“Hang in there!”

“Lance!” Keith’s voice rose through the din of his shots.

“What?”

Stay sturdy.

Lance barely had time to process that when Keith was running towards him, losing his gravitational tract with the ground, swinging with a finesse he had never seen him possess. He pushed himself off Lance, his sword slashing a row of soldiers.

Keith twisted and landed in a crouching position as the soldiers dissipated in front of his eyes, crumpling to the ground.

Dios Mio.

Lance picked his jaw up from the floor, deciding that Keith wasn’t going to be the one who would defeat this army and claim all the glory. He fired, swung, punched and parried; Galra blood and his own dripping from his knuckles. He was locked in a fight with a skilled one, the soldier’s blows leaving him gasping and trying to keep up.

The cabrón was fast. Lance nearly tripped on a fissure in the ground and he swung his head back before it could collide with the humming metal. He back flipped, taking a deep breath as he fired a close shot at the Galra’s chest plate. A grunt rewarded from the injured alien. Lance dealt the final shot to its head, watching with nonchalance as the soldier crumpled at his feet.

Keith was winded next to him, the final Galra falling to his knees.

They sagged against each other, nearly melting to the ground as the rush of adrenaline trickled away.

“What in tarnation was that?” Keith said, and Lance had to laugh at his accent slipping through.

“Something funny?” Keith challenged, grey-blue eyes narrowing.

Lance’s chuckle was throaty. “Nothing, Mullethead.”

“What did you call me?”

“I meant ‘my love’… head,” he said and swore that Keith stopped in his tracks.

“What?” he asked, turning around and giving him a confused look. Lance’s own hesitance was echoed on the Red Paladin’s face. “Keith, buddy, I’m kidding. Come on, let’s get back to the others.”

Keith actually cracked a smile and Lance found himself laughing at the sight. For a moment, they weren’t Keith Kogane or Lance McClain, sworn rivals, neck in neck. They were two friends who survived an explosion and an army all within five minutes.

Orange hues and smoke played with Lance’s perception and there was a look in Keith’s eyes that inexplicably made him wrap an arm around his teammate’s shoulders. Keith didn’t stiffen or throw his embrace away; Lance nearly yelped in shock when he reciprocated, his face suddenly stuffed into Keith’s dark locks, inhaling the metallic scent of his skin.

His heartbeat quickened and when he looked into Keith’s eyes, the dead soldiers and raging fires ceased to exist. Oceans opened beneath his feet and his head felt light, fingers curling into the other man’s jacket with a grip that should be illegal. Keith didn’t notice it, his gaze stuck on Lance. He wanted to ask Keith what was going on, why was he staring at him like that, and why the hell wasn’t he backing away when Keith’s eyes grew closer.

Lance’s vision was swarmed with Keith Kogane, and for the first time, he noticed a light smattering of freckles on the other boy’s nose, the violet flecks in his eyes, an almost imperceptible birth mark on his left cheek—

Soft lips pressed on his own and Lance swallowed back a surprised mewl. Keith’s grip on his shoulders tugged him closer and Lance allowed his eyes to slip close, giving Keith permission to slant his mouth as he deepened the kiss. His palm nestled under Keith’s head and his lips had a mind of their own, pressing and memorizing, vocal chords stolen and mute, the only sounds existing were the gentle sighs Keith breathed when they separated and reconnected, a never-ending cycle. Lance didn’t want it to end.

Keith pulled back far sooner than he liked, and Lance loosened his grip on his dark locks, drifting that same hand to touch his mouth.

“Uh…”

“Don’t say anything,” Keith whispered. Keith never whispered unless it was to insult him without catching Shiro’s attention.

“…uh.”

“I’ve been meaning to do that,” Keith said, and the adorable blush that spread down his neck was far too much for Lance.

Dios Mio, was he really feeling stuff – for Keith?!

Lance shook his head, warding off the thoughts and attempting to fire a round of sarcastic teasing when he found that he just couldn’t.

Keith was staring at him like he was the moon, blinking slow, pupils dilated and looking so goddamn happy that Lance didn’t have the heart to tell him off. He realized that he had never seen his friend look this pleased, not even when he won a spar match against Lance or received praise from Shiro.

It made Lance feel weirdly flattered.

“Let’s go,” Keith said, still in soft tones. “We wouldn’t want the others to get worried.”

“Hang on, hotshot.”

Keith had barely turned around when Lance’s mouth was pressed on his, knocking the breath out of his stuttering lungs. It ended even before he finished blinking and Keith remained stunned, Lance smirking at the other man’s silence.

“You’re not the only one that can stun a person, amigo.”

They would pretend their kiss never existed, meet the other Paladins after their own mission and spend hours next to each other, ignoring the humming buzz that coaxed deeper emotions; unresolved tension was their connection.

It wasn’t until they found themselves alone, cleaning up after a failed food fight in the kitchen while Hunk and Pidge were finding spare rags that Keith confronted him. Lance agreed that it was useless to try and hide the truth and the next thing he knew, Keith was pressed against him, backing him into the counter and Lance welcomed it; welcomed his kisses with light-headed glee.

Hunk whooped and their moment faltered. Pidge merely said, “finally!”

Keith and Lance could only blush, giving each other endearing side looks that made everyone around them disappear. Except each other.

All I'm saying is....

If they turn Beca into a popstar in PP3, I will cut a bitch. Beca is not meant to be some up and coming Taylor Swift 2.0, she was meant to create music and PRODUCE.

Ever since OG PP I feel like they’ve been moving away from who Beca is/was as a character and changing her into something she was never meant to be.

Growth is fine, everyone evolves, but if this turns out to be the direction they are heading in, then I will be majorly disappointed because to me, this is not who Beca is.

She’s not the one who wants to be out front and centre claiming all the glory, she wants to be in the shadows with her mixing board just doing her thing without all the glitz and glamour.

Being a Bella may have given her a taste of the stage life, but I still don’t believe as a character that she would actively pursue a life in the spotlight or as a standalone star.

I fell in love with this character in PP1 because she was an individual who wasn’t afraid to challenge people for trying to mould her into something else, who wasn’t afraid to stick the middle finger up to people who felt that her differences were an inconvenience.

That prickly nature and all those other rough edges are what made her perfect. Sure being a Bella softened those edges a little bit and made her open up a little more, but it shouldn’t change who she is fundamentally as a character.

PP2 felt like a different Beca to me. Sure the sarcasm was still there and they allowed Kendricks wit to shine through, but there was something about her that was off. Something that didn’t quite sit right.

It was like they had changed aspects of her to suit the films agenda.

“Let’s make her more vulnerable so that Jesse can play the supportive boyfriend where she can seek validation”…..

“Let’s make her scared and unsure about her talents and her future so that the Bella’s can come to the rescue and remind her of how amazing she is”….

Don’t get me wrong, I get that people have their moments of doubt or weakness, but a lot of this seemed in stark contrast to the stubborn, hard headed, assertive Beca from the first movie.

How does one go from being able to put a foot down in the snap of a finger, to not being able to put one foot in front of the other without the guidance of other people’s opinions or reassurance?

PP3 seems to be setting Beca up for yet another case of lost wannabe producer needing “unexpected” guidance to set her on the “right path”.

I get that it’s post college and the girls are probably supposed to be going through that ‘feeling lost’ phase of their lives where they are trying to figure stuff out, but it unsettles me the idea that Beca could move even further away from who she was in this movie.

I’m sick of women being portrayed as damsels in distress or 20/30 somethings who can’t get their shit together. Guess what, the epic tale of being lost to finding glory isn’t an original story anymore, it’s tired and predictable and quite frankly condescending. Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life and it’s depressing to watch. I mean sure we eventually settle in, but it’s never as magical as the movies make it out to be. (Sorry kids but it’s true).

Why should we always have to hold out for that epic ending? Why can’t women just be epic?

We get it, life is hard, being in your 20’s and figuring your shit out is hard (trust me I know, I’m living it). But here’s the thing, just because it’s hard, doesn’t mean your lost or need guidance or rescuing. Sometimes it just means you need to pull your socks up a little higher and push yourself a little harder.

Why can’t we see more movies where instead of a rescue mission, there’s a revelation, a feeling or a sense of, okay I can do this I just need to work harder or find a different/better solution.

This to me would have been what the old Beca would’ve done. Now I feel like Beca wouldn’t know what to do without the Bella’s or some other dude guiding her in all her life choices, including what cereal to eat for breakfast.

I love this character, probably more than I should love a fictional character. Which is why I’m hoping for more for her, but expecting very little.