i like those shorts

Survey of the Miraculous fandom

Hi, I always have the impression that there’s so many artists in the Miraculous fandom so…


If you’re a fanfic writer for the Miraculous fandom, could you please reblog this.

If you’re an artist who makes fanart for the Miraculous fandom, could you please like this.


This Survey will take place until the 21 december (in two weeks).

I will then share the results with graphs.

(It doesn’t matter if your fanarts and fanfictions are popular or not. You gave time for the Miraculous fandom and you’re an artist all the same!)

summer fun trash crew.

that tank top was jack’s, he made wilhelm wear it. they also make wilhelm carry all their stuff. the two scoop cone is jack’s too, if you were not tipped off by the mess of sprinkles.

(follows this)

“To have a… is this is some sort of joke to you?!”

“A joke? Tony, I don’t–”

“If you think that having a baby will fix problems in our relationship–”

“Problems?! What problems?! We are having problems?”

“Of course, we are having problems!! You think you can just disappear for half of month and then come back all shiny and pretty and think everything is fine?!”

“But… You said you forgive me! You said we are fine!”

“I LIED!!”

“Wh-what? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. Because I am stupidly in love with you since I can remember? Because dating and being married to you is the greatest thing that ever happened to me? Because I like to lie to myself that you love me, even just a half of how much I love you?!”

“Tony… What are you talking about? I do love you!”

“Oh yeah, you show it in a messed up way.”

“Tony, I– I don’t know what to say. I–”

“You don’t have to say anything. I am going to my lab.”

“Tony…”

I will softly pull away
In this broken beautiful mess I’ve made
And in the dead and quiet I will slowly fade
In this masterpiece I made

I’ll burn out and slip away
And this just a part I portray
You’re beautiful, can I hide in you and stay here?


Hush now they’ll hurt you till your heart melts
They know you’re lonely
And they will only break your heart
And this masterpiece will tear you apart

Tried to make a short animation (emphasis on tried) cause I really liked those lyrics and seems to match well with this side of the square. 

This is also a wink to another show I really like so if someone guesses which show, I will draw something for them. Whatever they want (except nsfw)

anonymous asked:

this is dumb and i probably shouldn't even be asking so feel free to ignore this if you want but. what should trans men do when we know masculinity is toxic and disgusting? like is there a good way to react to this? ive been struggling with it a lot recently myself.

Like, I think there are a lot of things going on here.

Because like, what do people even mean when they are talking about ‘masculinity’? Because like, to be honest, I think this sort of push that like all behaviors associated w men like are not all equally harmful. They can range from like, the v. harmful (entitlement to women’s bodies and time, violence and sexual coercion, etc) to those that I don’t think are in any way harmful even tho I might poke fun (caring a lot about trucks, cargo shorts), and I think treating those like they are all equal (because they are all ‘masculine’) is how you get to these situations where like so many trans dudes are competitively trying to be the most doe eyed feminine eunuch (i’m saying this as a literal eunuch), which really only addresses the superficial aspects of masculinity without attending to the deeper violence of gender as a system.

Like, tbh I just don’t think that like, liking 'masculine’ things as an individual man (cis or trans) is like the fight to be having internally. Masculinity as like, a set of harmful behaviors and attitudes towards women is where I think more attention should be paid, and like acting in the way that men typically act towards women (ie badly) is what you should be investigating in yr interactions with other people. It’s not that being a man is a bad thing, because it’s not in an individual ethical sense. It’s that society is going to consistently give you a pass or actively encourage you (and all other men) to act towards women in a certain way that is harmful, and men need to actively resist that while also checking other men who do behave and talk that way.

Early morning visitor


I started this forever ago but got frustrated that my digital painting skills are kind of awful. I finally just said fuck it, I need to finish it! So I’ve got a couple shout outs for this. To @mizuaoi for being such an amazing writer! If you haven’t read her stuff, you NEED to. I threw in those blue shorts like I said I would. And to @non–mercy for being an amazing friend and teaching me some french. I don’t know what I’d do without you <3. I hope everyone enjoys!!

An instant later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips.
—  John Watson
(Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Empty House)

One time, Bruce was violently awakened at stupid-early o’clock (7.30am) by his cell-phone, and he was bleary and cranky and he answered it; “Ngnnghmf? Tim?”
And Tim said, “…how casual?“
Bruce, resisting the urge to smother himself with his own pillow and/or toss his phone against the wall, managed a (reasonably) coherent, “What.”
“It’s business casual Friday, Bruce! Seriously, how casual is too casual?”

4

I did another thing that I’ll be releasing today-ish? Either way, I kinda like it :P

villain with the right priorities
  • Holly: BRINGING TWO WORLDS TOGETHER?! THIS COULD MEAN DISASTER FOR US ALL!!
  • Artemis: I am not concerned with us all, just myself. And believe me, I shall be perfectly fine.
  • Holly: What's the master plan? Let me guess: World Domination?
  • Artemis: *chuckles* Nothing too melodramatic. Just riches.
  • -
  • Artemis: So you need me.
  • Holly: Yes, Artemis. Gloat all you like. We need your help.
  • Artemis: In that case, let's discuss my fee. One ton of gold would suffice.
  • Holly: WHAT?! AFTER ALL I'VE DONE TO HELP YOU?!!
  • Artemis: It would be stupid not to ask for a fee.

i just found out that a diminutive for the name Lance is Lanny

LANNY

i so see his family using that nickname sometimes and lance thinks it’s super embarrassing (his siblings constantly use it against him lmao just to embarrass him in public)

aka pls try to use this nickname, he’ll hate it

I’ve seen some hc’s of Gavin joining the crew after he’s caught badly pickpocketing Geoff, but what if he wasn’t? What if Gavin was the thief who not only robbed the king of Los Santos and got away scott free, but was cocky enough to do it again and again. The first few times Geoff doesn’t even notice, thinks its bad luck, faulty memory, blames himself for the loss and moves on. So Gavin gets cheeky, takes bigger risks and pinches more and more expensive items, escalating until Geoff notices, then further still until the man is worked up into a rage about it.

When Geoff finally catches him (A moment Geoff swears up and down wasn’t orchestrated by Gavin, but even he has doubts) Gavin is decked out in Geoff’s missing rolex, his pricey cufflinks and obscenely expensive sunglasses, his tailored jacket and his goddamn favourite belt-buckle. He has Geoff’s phone, the keys to one hide-out and half-a-dozen stolen cars, a wallet full of cards and one very valuable custom-made beretta. But Geoff has him now, and he’s going to kill him. Except, well. Geoff wasn’t expecting a kid, and he sure as hell wasn’t expecting said kid to treat his aggressive interrogation like a freaking job interview.

Say what you will about his methods, Gavin’s a bright guy and it didn’t take him long to work out where the real power lay in Los Santos. He had no intention of messing around with low level gangs in the hopes of gaining the right attention, of working his way up to the big leagues. No, he knows his talents, is confident in his ability to talk his way into a job once he gets an audience, and boy does he like to make an entrance.

short story- icarus down

Wordcount: ~1500

Since I got my first semester grades up, I can finally post some schoolwork. here’s a nice short story about a boy on a long train ride.

Elliot Reed’s phone is stolen about half an hour into the longest train ride of his life. Oh well. The signal is probably shoddy this deep into nowhere.

He’d only taken a short nap, curled up over two seats, shaken by the car’s jerky movements to a half sleep. Still, no phone. He’d given his train car a quick look over at first, ducking below the seats and rifling through his bags approximately seven times.

At some point he’d given up, and now he is in the observation car, clutching his belongings with five am fierceness well learned on New York’s subways. He wishes to be alone, but he’s joined on this adventure by several hundred others, and in this very car are six human beings. They cling to the windows, camera phones in hand. The sun is rising, and it’s as orange as the countryside.

Keep reading

ohfuckthisshit  asked:

random prompt time! <3 if you like that is. I'd totally fancy me some comfy & fun Marauder times ? maybe with baby harry already? or maybe at night time with the first snow of winter ? or just surprise me? :D I love anything you write anyway!

“let me change my prompt due to current events : either James or Sirius being sick and whiny af while the others try to not get annoyed with them and care for them ? and ofc they totally refuse to go to the school nurse, cause someone oculd see them in their less than perfect state ;)”

Surprise! You get a 2 for 1 deal (where I don’t hit either prompt exactly, but aanywaysss) It’s just a tiny ficlet but I hope you enjoy your marauders “yes, playing in the snow will get you sick if you are not dressed for it properly, James” fluff, Larissa! I hope you feel better already today! <3

“Prongs, Prongs, Prongs!!!”

James drops the miniature quaffle he’d been playing with when Sirius storms into their dorm room.

“Padfoot, Padfoot, Padfoot, what is it?” he shouts back, grinning when Sirius winces at his volume. Of the two of them James has always had the better set of lungs. But Sirius just shakes his head like a dog and continues: “It’s snowing, Prongs! Come on, come on, Moony’s waiting downstairs already!”

And without waiting for a reply, he runs out the door again like an overexcited puppy. It’s really no wonder that he turns into a dog, James thinks and quickly grabs his coat before following him. Peter is still in the hospital wing after an unfortunate potions incident that has left him literally glowing. He doesn’t need lumos at night to find his way to the loo currently. James is sure that Snivellus put something into Peter’s cauldron, but there’s no way to prove that of course.

Moony’s waiting just outside the front door, almost unrecognisable with a woolen hat tugged low into his eyes and a scarf wrapped all around his neck and mouth and nose. With a gloved hand he pokes James in the side and asks: “Where is your scarf and hat, James? And no gloves either! You’re going to get sick like this!”

He might be glaring at James, too, but not enough of his face is visible to be sure, so James just grins at him charmingly and instead of answering, ducks down and grabs a fistful of snow and rubs it into Remus’ hat. Now he’s definitely glaring.

A war cry from behind is the only warning James get before he gets tackled into the snow by Sirius.

Two hours later he’s wet and shivering and Sirius and Remus are not much better off. They take a quick hot shower in the Quidditch locker rooms and spell their clothes dry, but by the time they are sitting down for dinner James’ head is pounding and he’s sneezing every few minutes. Remus shakes his head and mutters something that suspiciously sounds like “I told you so” but after dinner he still disappears into the direction of the infirmary, probably to beg some cold medicine off Madam Pomfrey. Sirius drags James down another hallway; James is embarrassed to admit that he doesn’t even know where they are going, too groggy and achy to pay attention. When Sirius tickles a pear and a door opens to a great deal of chatter and clanging, he knows where they are even before the high pitched “Masters Potter and Black!” ring through the kitchen.

Sirius waves like he’s on stage with the Weird Sisters and then addresses the head house elf who has just hurried over to them.

“Hey Tibby, James here isn’t feeling too well -” James has to sneeze particularly violently at that moment, which actually makes him proud of his own inherent dramatic timing - “could you make him some tea and perhaps a bowl of soup or something?”

James almost complains that they only just had dinner, but then he realises that he hasn’t actually eaten more than one or two bites because swallowing hurt. Perhaps a soup would go down easier.

Tibby bows low and replies: “Certainly, Master Black, Master Potter will want for nothing! I’ll bring it up myself; you just make sure that young Master Potter is put to bed quickly.”

He looks sternly up at Sirius and James snickers at the image of tiny, elderly Tibby scolding a contrite Sirius. His giggling only earns him a shared concerned look between Sirius and Tibby and Sirius ushering him out of the kitchen. By the time they are up in the dorm room a steaming bowl of soup and three cups of tea are sitting on James’ bedside table and Remy is waiting for them with some vile potion that he forces on James despite his loud protests. Then Sirius forces him to eat at least half the bowl of soup and finally they all squeeze into James’ bed together to sip on their still hot teas.

At one point James must have fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes next it’s dark in the dorm and he’s under the blankets and it’s warm and somewhat sticky. He’s on his side, turned away from Sirius, who is pressed against his back, and facing Remy, who has slid down a bit further so that he’s almost entirely hidden under the blanket, nose pressed against James’ clavicle, moist breaths dampening James’ shirt there. Sirius has one arm thrown across James, stretched out long enough that he can touch Remus at the same time.

James carefully extracts himself out of their embrace a little, so that he can blow his nose into a conjured handkerchief. Then he snuggles back in, pressing back against Sirius and wrapping his own arm around Remy, linking his fingers with Sirius’ and closes his eyes again with a smile. If this is what getting sick gets him he might need to forget his scarf and gloves more often.