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i cannot stop thinking about this glorious tweet about keith’s dad seeing keith’s hot galra mom for the first time

Icons of the Diamonds

Okay so, let’s talk Rose’s fountain for a moment.

According to Pearl, the fountain somehow contains Rose’s “essence”. This is pretty weird if we consider that outside of the gem itself, which cannot be compromised without massive health concerns and/or death, there doesn’t seem to be anything we know of that gems could leave behind. Rose couldn’t pluck a strand of her hair for example- it’d just dissolve into light as soon as it separated from her body.

But on the other hand- it makes sense that the fountain is somehow using Rose’s power. After all if Gem technology can do the same as Rose’s power, then Eyeball would not have reacted to it like she just witnessed Steven turning water into wine (or something with comparable theological significance)

Like- seriously. Eyeball was absolutely floored. Not even just that this was Rose’s “legendary” power but that it was even possible and not a legend.

Getting back to the fountain, though… so how is it doing that?

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AU in which Lance is separated from the rest of team Voltron during a big battle and ends up crashing on a planet in a pocket of hyper dense space-time.

The crash leaves the Blue lion badly damaged and practically non-responsive at the bottom of the ocean, and Lance is thrown into the middle of yet another war that isn’t his own.

He starts off spending time slowly fixing Blue with whatever parts he can scrounge up, working as a mercenary to earn money for food and the more difficult to find parts.

Initially, he hopes that the others will be able to find him. He manages to set up a beacon to hail the castle (with a lot of help from some locals that had taken a liking to him), but as more and more time goes by he loses hope that they’re ever coming back.

It doesn’t take him much to theorize that they’re all either dead or captured, because even if they didn’t want to come and find him (Who would want to? It would be better if they found a new blue paladin, one with more to offer the team, he thinks to himself.) then they would at least need to come get Blue and his Bayard.

Without her there is no Voltron.

Without Voltron, the universe has next to no hope left.

After 3 months (Blue had been counting. She’s gotten good at waiting, but it’s always nice to know exactly how long it’s been) one of the warring countries gets wind of his talents and invites him to join their army. Invites from the other two followed soon thereafter, all of them easily able to see that he could be the key to breaking the deadlock they’d gotten themselves into.

After 5 months, he conceded and joined one of the armies. All the parts he still needed to fix Blue were rare and out of his price range, and he had sworn to protect her until his dying breath. He couldn’t let her fall into the Galra’s hands. He couldn’t let Voltron be used by those who sought to harm the innocent.

He’d fix her, protect her, even if it killed him.

He was a quick study in the art of war, winning fight after fight, battle after battle. But as he rose up the ranks, the death count on all sides dropped dramatically, much to the confusion of all concerned. By the time he’d become a General the battles were nearly bloodless.

Then the number of battles started to decrease. He enabled and encouraged peace talks between the countries, and by the time a treaty had been signed he finally had everything he needed to fix the Blue Lion.

It had taken a few years (She still counted, but he had long since stopped asking her to update him, lost in battle after battle) but they finally managed to leave.

When they re-entered normal space (not that they knew it until long after) the beacon that was still active down in the depths of Blue’s mechanics finally managed to make contact with the Castle of Lions.

Team Voltron hadn’t stopped searching for the Blue Lion or Lance since they’d disappeared.

And as they searched, they were slowly falling apart.

None of them had really realized how quiet the castle would be without him dancing around singing as he cleaned.

None of them realized he’d been leaving plates of food goo when they hadn’t eaten all day, carrying them back to bed when he could and giving them pillows and blankets when he couldn’t after they fall asleep in odd places, guiding them towards the showers when they’d been training and forgotten to change.

They hadn’t noticed that he had a knack for finding them and distracting them from what was worrying them, until they had a breakdown and had to piece themselves back together.

So, to say they were relieved when they located the beacon spewing out the Blue Lion’s energy would be an understatement of the gravest degree.

They’d been expecting to find the Blue Lion crashed on a planet.

They’d been expecting Lance to contact them as soon as they were in range, spouting off some tall tale of how he valiantly saved the entire planet single-handedly, rushing back into the castle where they could shower him in hugs and love and affection that he would ultimately be confused by.

They’d been expecting to reunite and have everything simply click into place.

They hadn’t expected to find the Blue Lion, deep scores marking her armour, with small pieces of what looked to be some kind of alien reef valiantly clinging on, to be flying at a breakneck pace through the depths of space.

They hadn’t expected both Lion and Paladin to be wary of the Castle of Lions, their audio only transmission fizzling with static as they demanded to know how they’d come to claim the Castle.

The tension in the air was palpable as the Blue Lion gingerly lowered her head and setting down her ramp, seawater gushing from various cracks and crevice’s.

They hadn’t been expecting to be greeted by a Lance far more subdued and soft spoken than they could have ever imagined. Despite this, he stood tall, proud (guarded, imposing) as he looked them over with a critical eye (judging to see if it were truly them, or some cruel trick played by whoever wanted the Blue Lion).

He was missing pieces of his paladin armour, decked in odd replacements and accessories, with a cape that shimmered like sunlight on a pool of water. His face scarred, his eyes heavy and wearing a ponytail of all things.

(Much later, he joked that it was kind of hard to cut your hair underwater with a blunt knife, and it almost felt like no time had passed)

They hadn’t been expecting the few weeks they’d spent searching to have been years for their Blue Paladin.

They hadn’t expected him to come back so different.

(He hadn’t expected them to come back at all)

Reasons why Brrrad Colbert is definitely an Alexander the Great fangirl:

1) Alexander the Great was also obsessed with his Warrior Spirit and reportedly got pissy when news of his father’s victories came to him because he was worried there wouldn’t be any conquering left for him.

2) AtG quoted pretentious poetry at random and inappropriate moments, including when he was wounded in battle. 

3) AtG was the original Horse Girl, including naming a city after his horse, and giving it an elaborate funeral. Brad once tried to trick his motorcycle out so that it shot flames.

4) Both are SUPER OVER THE TOP - I mean AtG was the Most Extra (once cried because there were so many worlds to conquer and he hadn’t managed to conquer one) and I hope I don’t have to tell you about my dramatic son Brrrad Colbert

5) Both badasses who are secretly squishy - AtG treated the Persians really well once he conquered them because his quarrel was with their leader, named a city for his horse and a different one for his dog, tried to get his lover worshipped as a god. Brad = Humvee Dad of the Year, takes care of reporter and trombley, gives rations to Iraqi children, smuggles chef boyardee and porn for his adult children

The Noisy Neighbor

Summary: That’s it, the last straw. You were getting pretty sick of your noisy neighbor, unfortunately for you he had to be ridiculously attractive, he knew just what to say to you to get you to forget about your complaint. It was time to take matters into your own hands

A/N: I haven’t done a one shot in a while so here’s some Modern!Kylo because I’ve been in the writing mood lately.

Finally, you had your own apartment. Free from your parents and able to pay the bills, life was pretty good. Except for one thing, your next-door neighbor. It felt like he was a ghost within your room, you could probably listen to entire conversations but that just felt a little too creepy.

You’d only seen him a few times; as you left for work in the morning he returned all bruised and battered, looking down and not even bothering to greet you. There was something suspicious about him and you didn’t even know his name.

It was a Friday night, one of your most relaxing evenings of the week, where you could lay in bed and binge watch Netflix to your heart’s content. Of course your neighbor clamoring about rudely interrupted you. The walls were thin, but you’d never had a problem with any of your other neighbors so you wondered why this one was so loud, or why the landlord hadn’t listened to any of your complaints.

Maybe you should just go over there…

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anonymous asked:

rogue one rule 63 anon here, I'm so excited that you're writing it :DDD You have so many jyn/cassian WIPs AND I LOVE ALL OF THEM <3

Thank you very much! I do have … a lot, haha, and more now than when I got this ask. >_>

Speaking of which, it’s been a long time, sorry, but I am writing it and should at least have a one-shot to post at some point in the near future. So here’s a tiny piece:

Cassia’s vision swam as she tried to stand up. One knee buckled, with a jolt of pain that irradiated her entire leg. Her side burned. When she reached down for her blaster, everything burned.

But Jyn hadn’t fallen. Jyn was up there, with the plans. The man in white, too. If he got to her, it all would have been for nothing. Everything would have been for nothing.

She had to help. She and Jyn had to get the plans out. And—

Jyn, she’s in danger, I have to—Jyn, Jyn—

Cassia climbed.


Sterek one-shot, word count: 4k. 


Derek’s relationship with Stiles is about 40% eyebrow conversations, 40% innuendo, 5% puns (on Stiles’ end), and 15% fighting over the radio in the Camaro.

Except when Lydia Martin comes on. Then it’s 0% fighting over the radio, and 0% complaining, and 0% passive-aggressive commentary, or else Stiles will dump his ass, no exceptions.

“Not even when it’s your birthday in a week and your boyfriend is about to spend hours upon hours of his life baking you an unnecessarily complicated Millennium Falcon cake?” Derek asks.

“Not even,” Stiles agrees cheerfully. He cranks the volume a little higher as he says it, just to be a little shit, and adds, with entirely too much fondness given that this is a woman who regularly threatens to crush men’s skulls under her stilettos, “She’s my strawberry-blonde goddess, you know this.”

“Yeah,” Derek mutters, “I know.”

“And you can quit it with the judgey eyebrows, because I know you listen to Celine Dion in the shower.”

Derek shuts up.

It takes a whole four minutes for the song to end. It’s one of her quieter songs, one that doesn’t get a lot of air time. It’s not that bad, he supposes. A little twangier than he likes, a little more saccharine, but–pleasant. Like a lullaby. What makes it annoying is Stiles sitting over there crooning at the stereo and making heart eyes. No song–or singer–is that good.

Stiles sighs contentedly into the last notes and wriggles his butt against the seat. “I know you and I are, like, werewolf-married, but dude, if I ever met Lydia Martin in person … All bets are off, is all I’m saying.“

It’s not like Stiles really means it (does he?), but it still makes Derek’s hands clench into claws on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, if,” he says, and keeps his eyes on the road.

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behind the mask | bauta

The bauta (sometimes referred as baùtta) is a mask, today often heavily gilded though originally simple stark white, which is designed to comfortably cover the entire face; this traditional grotesque piece of art was characterized by the inclusion of an over-prominent nose, a thick supraorbital ridge, a projecting "chin line”, and no mouth. The mask’s beak-like chin is designed to enable the wearer to talk, eat, and drink without having to remove it, thereby preserving the wearer’s anonymity. The bauta was often accompanied by a red or black cape and a tricorn.

In 18th century, together with a black cape called a “tabarro”, the bauta had become a standardized society mask and disguise regulated by the Venetian government. It was obligatory to wear it at certain political decision-making events when all citizens were required to act anonymously as peers. Only citizens (i.e., men) had the right to use the bauta. Its role was similar to the anonymizing processes invented to guarantee general, direct, free, equal and secret ballots in modern democracies. Also, the bearing of weapons along with the mask was specifically prohibited by law and enforceable by the Venetian police.

Given this history and its grotesque design elements, the bauta was usually worn by men, but many paintings done in the 18th century also depict women wearing this mask and tricorn hat. The Ridotto and The Apple Seller by Pietro Longhi are two examples of this from the 1750s.

Are You Scared?

Request- Can you do one where you are bra shopping with Peter and he gets embarrassed 

AN- Send me some prompts or ideas for me to write, I’ll try and write as many as I can then add them to my queue.

Send in requests

Originally posted by manny-mellark

Peter didn’t know where to look the second you two walked into the shop, posters in clothing that left very little to the imagination. So instead of looking around at his surroundings he couldn’t seem to escape, he kept his head down, looking directly at his feet.

That did work, until of course, he walked into a railing of hot pink push-up bras. The crashing of the metal against the floor made you whip you head around in his direction, seeing Peter quickly stand up and pull one of the pieces of underwear off his head.

“Alright there, Parker?”

Peter had been a close friend for years, ever since you’d been partnered up for a science project in middle school, and you two just got closer with each given day. Although the two of you were close, you didn’t spend much time together in school, him being in all the higher classes, your timetables never enabled you to talk, so you treasured moments when you did stuff together. Even if it involved Peter wrecking a bra display.

He met your eyes, then raised a hand to his usually gelled hair, which had been messed up because of his clumsiness, then walked over to you, trying to play it off. 

“Fine, just fine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards the back of the shop, where the changing rooms were, and stepped into one of the rooms, Peter waiting outside on one of the sofas there.

He sat there looking very tense, seeing a handful of girls walking in and giggling at him sitting there, as if he was the most hilarious thing in the world. It made him feel quite awkward, Peter never did like attention being brought to him.

When the curtain opened, Peter looked up at you, but only saw your back as you were looking in the mirror.

“Hey, Pete, can you see the bra through this t-shirt?”

Turning around you saw Peter looking anywhere other than you, thinking you wouldn’t be looking at him. His eyes wandered the ceiling, not noticing the burn of your eyes on him.

“Nope, can’t see a thing.”

“Peter you’re not looking.”

His eyes flitted to you for no more than a second, seeing your body leaning against the doorway, your eyebrows raised at Peters behaviour.

“Peter Parker, are you scared?”

“Pft, me? No.”

Bending over slightly to rest your hands on your legs, you started to laugh at Peter, noticing the pink that was beginning to make it’s way from his neck to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Sighing, he finally looked at your beaming face, the sight making a smile on his face as well. You came to sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder, still shaking a little from laughing at the boy.

“You’re never gonna let this go are you?”

“Never in a million years, Parker.”

So I’m in an avatar the last airbender-verse d&d campaign set during the avatar after Korra’s time and I’m playing a non bending ranger and today because I leveled up last time I got an animal friend and because it’s atla style I’m now the owner of a panther-hawk and it loves my character and it’s beautiful.

Ever since we found out that “not everybody’s going to make it out” by the end of Crooked Kingdom, I’ve been torturing myself with ideas about who it could be because why not.

  • Inej. She’s kidnapped. She could be Van Eck’s bargaining chip, or she could be the Six’s false hope. 
    • Kaz finally confesses that he wants her back. They find where she’s being hidden, and there’s this giddy sense of hope building amongst them because they’re going to get her back, they’re going to get their Wraith back, they just know it. 
    • But Kaz finds Inej a little too late. 
    • She’s slumped in the chair she’s tied to and there’s blood everywhere and he hears Inej’s voice in his head, “Say you’re sorry.”
  • The jurda parem didn’t get to Nina, but it got to Jesper. None of the six wanted him to do it, but they couldn’t change Jesper’s mind. “It’ll be fun,” he said. We can’t save Inej without this, he thought.
  • Matthias. He made an oath to Nina, and he told himself and her that he’d never break it, but this sure as hell feels like breaking it.
  • Nina at the hands of other Grisha because Matthias isn’t druskelle anymore dammit. He’s their friend and he’s hers and he knows better now. Matthias made mistakes and there has to be more to his life than fixing them, so Nina will buy him that time if it’s the last thing she does. 
  • Wylan refuses to get a crow tattoo and Jesper teases him for being afraid of the pain. 
    • Yeah, he’s scared of the pain, there’s no denying it, but he’s also scared of being a part of something. Something real. Something stable. Something concrete.
    • Wylan was never allowed to stay. His father pushed him away and he wasn’t enough of anything to be a member of the Dregs. He told himself he wanted to keep it that way. 
    • He never expected to survive, but maybe this way it won’t count as leaving them.
    • Once Inej is safe, once his father is long gone, once Wylan is bleeding out on the pavement and Jesper is clutching at his hand like he wants to break every single bone, he realises that the tattoo wouldn’t make a difference. 
    • Wylan is leaving. He’s leaving Nina and Inej and Kaz and his flute and the Barrel and Jesper. He hates it more than anything in the world.
  • Inej and Jesper die together. They’ve always had bad taste, but they never expected it to get them in any real trouble. However, they know their place, and neither of them are worth as much as the Lieutenant of The Dregs. If Kaz is safe, everything will be okay. They’ve done their part. 
    • They’re climbing when it happens. Kaz was already at the top, not looking over the edge but waiting for Jesper and Inej at the end of the rope. 
    • It’s not an easy wall to scale in the first place, but the wound in Jesper’s arm makes it worse.
    • He starts to fall, and Inej reaches for him without thinking, and ends up losing her grip, too
    • Jesper tries to curl himself around Inej. It’s impossible for both of them to survive but maybe, just maybe she could. For the Wraith to die falling would be a cruel joke. 
    • Inej pushes him away because Jesper picks the worst times to play hero
    • She just squeezes his hand, and waits for them to hit the ground.
  • All of them. 
    • Van Eck keeps Jesper and Nina because they’re Grisha and they could be useful. They don’t last long.
    • Inej is tortured for information on the Dregs but she doesn’t breathe a word about them to Van Eck’s men. Then, she doesn’t breathe at all.
    • Matthias is thrown back into a cell to rot. He was never meant to get out in the first place. 
    • Jan Van Eck decides that the best way to deal with his troublesome son is to kill him with his own hands
    • But they let Kaz go
  • There was no part of Kaz that was not broken that had not healed wrong. When he got back to the Barrel, alone and empty handed, all those parts of him broke once again.

anonymous asked:

Honestly this blog is detrimental to radical feminism. Enabling women to talk shit and tear each other down just weakens our sisterhood and community. It reeks of middle school