I was going to reblog the Spider-Man premiere video for RDJ’s comments about Tony and Peter but for some reason YouTube is now saying the video is no longer available. D: Luckily I could still play it on the blog I was looking at though, so I typed up the quotes for those interested. ;D
Interviewer: So I have to say, I was watching Civil War again and I was
watching the scene near the end of the big action scene where you think that
Spider-Man might be kind of “out”, and you kind of popped open and you get really
severe with him and you’re like “You’re done. I’m taking you to May.”
I’m curious about how that set the tone for your, Tony’s, relationship with
Peter in this movie.
RDJ: Yeah, well first of all I’m glad that happened because you
know recruiting teenagers for life and death situations is not advisable. So I
think it was appropriate, responsible. But then the way that this is being
relaunched it kind of makes sense and I never thought I’d wind up being like a
“father figure” to another Avenger but I couldn’t pick a better
character or actor to do it with. And I’ve saw this movie and it’s just great,
it’s just great.
Interviewer: What too, I’m curious, for Tony now, what does family mean to
him? I mean he’s had a lot of betrayal and then suddenly there’s this young
guy. So what is family for Tony now?
RDJ: Sure. Well, you know sometimes you figure if someone isn’t
mature enough yet to betray you, you feel comfortable. That comes with age - treachery,
treachery comes with experience, we know.
OK SO I’ve never really did one of these long theory posts but here I am. I’m prob gonna do one about Shiro too but when i have HD pictures cause my internet sucks so my netflix is blurry. I have more pictures for this theory.
ANYWAY I’m going to talk about this lovely lady ACXA
NOTE: This theory ISNT about how she related to Keith, it’s possible but I dont have anything to back it up to me her looks aren’t something that would give it away or facial expression. That’s a very broad so to me it’s not good enough backing.
I’m going to talk about her possible character development.
I want to mention that she is very merciful from what i’ve seen. It seems she doesn’t want to really hurt anyone or kill anyone as much as possible compared to the others. Only other one would be probably Ezor she just seems like she’d rather toy with people more than anything. BUT a few examples as to why Acxa is more merciful than she comes off to be .
1: She had many chances to just kill Keith and Hunk off (blah its a kids show i know) but she didn’t she learned from them that their paladins of Voltron she could have shot keith when leaving but I feel she would’ve knocked his bayard from his hand instead like she did to Lance and then kicked him back.
2: In this scene she emphasized on “KILL NO ONE” and she got shot at a second after they disbursed. She went after them and shot at their guns not THEM to disarm them and put them in a force field.
Now I wanna get a major one that happened
3: She remembered and she HESITATED and then she moved to another stance what I’m guessing was to get either get a better look at his face OR for Ezor to have a better angle to hit him maybe both. But the fact is she REMEMBERED and hesitated once she did…She maybe fighting him but I think part of her is very thankful for him saving her. Because if he didn’t she probably would have died in there.That small memory might have meant ALOT more than we think.
4: She stopped Zethrid when she wanted to fight them more and pummel them. But a keyframe after this I want to linger on is this one
It had menacing music and a face like that tell me she is PISSED that Acxa stopped her I’ve gotten to a point if I see this I automatically assume the worst such as Plotting Revenge. So to ME this face says “she’ll pay for that” in other words do something such as frame her, make her purposely mess up, make Lotor HATE her. I know it’s just a small frame but I like to think some things are important even though they necessarily might not be. Either that or she was just a grumpy mcgee and was upset she didnt get to blow them up.
OK NOW FOR THE MAIN EVENT
Remember her piloting that ship made out of the comet and fighting Voltron? It was a main part of the episode of course you do. and that she shot the teledove piece
Sweety you know you done fucked up and she knows it too. SHE FAILED! LOTOR IS MAD!
THESE are critical moments to me FAR more than the others. WHY?! Because this seems major its a critical failure because Lotor NEEDED the blue prints of that teledove piece as a Blueprint and it was probably the ONLY one of its kinda that was left over DESTROYED. The ending was funny because they went into the past on the episode right after we don’t see the present, so something is telling me that she is going to regret letting that teledove slip away.
Lotor put his trust in her and she failed so she’s probably going to get demoted from second in command. OR worse as in paying dearly for that loss so ya know getting booted completely from his generals. She seems more distance from the others and does her own thing unless ordered otherwise she’s DEATHLY loyal to Lotor maybe even loves him but once she betrayed by him…she won’t know where to go.
In other words.. What if she switches sides and becomes part of team Voltron. She definitely seems ALOT more willing than the others if she’s betrayed she runs and also WHAT if she runs WITH the ship Lotor made and if anything if she disappears and joins Voltron she could also have a TUN of information they could use. From what i’ve seen they’ve emphasized on her character more than any of the other generals.
I wanted to make this while I had the willpower because I want to see if I’m right when next season comes out.
Besides I LOVE the thought of getting a new badass alien on the Team
I haven’t posted any of my art in a while, but here’s an old piece I did back in like, 2012 I think? I was still signing with my deadname. It was just a sketch on a piece of printer paper but I felt like I screwed up the hair so I decided to practice ink linework on it. I’m also pretty sure that this was a character sketch for a trans woman pathfinder character I was going to play (but the game never materialized). I even drew her with my tattoos (the tiny bit you can see on the shoulders).
Thinking about it now, most of the drawings I’ve done in the past few years have just been sketches that I tried to ink with various levels of success (usually very little tbqh), which is a real shame because I always really excelled in graphite and charcoal. I think I stopped doing pencil drawings because I felt like it was a dead-end. Nobody ever buys pencil drawings, and inks are still useful in comics. I dunno though. It might be time to revisit my roots.
Jamie & Claire | AU | Claire doesn’t have a husband to return to. Jamie doesn’t have a price on his head. Seems like smooth sailing … right? (AO3)
I’d almost forgotten about this story … sorry !! But since there was no new episode yesterday, I decided to get my shit together and give you chapter two (yes, I know this is a poor substitute for THE reunion episode, but this is all I have!) Also thank you all so much for the lovely comments on chapter one!
Aaand a special shoutout to @bonnie-wee-swordsman who helped me with this chapter, she’s a lifesaver !! (or, at least a ficsaver) (It took some restraint though not to add “cue jaws theme” in the fic based on Bonnie’s comments …)
There can be danger in the lack of a purpose. When you no longer have something to give your life meaning, it’s awfully easy to throw caution to the wind and embark on a dangerous—and often foolish—journey.
Some people thrive in danger; they are hardwired to seek it out. For those people, the real danger is being idle, for boredom eats away at their very soul. They need a purpose like they need air to breathe, or food to eat.
Frank had said once he feared I loved my patients more than I loved him. He had said it half-jokingly, but he had been right.
I had always had a drive, though I had not always known towards what. But I kept moving forward, knowing I could never be content standing still. I had the tendency to seek out those dangerous environments other people would rather avoid, but I liked to think I didn’t have the fatal foolishness that some did. If I did, I would quite possibly find out soon.
On our way to Castle Leoch, Jamie regaled me with stories. He had told me about his uncles and Clan MacKenzie, after I’d shown quite a bit of enthusiasm for learning more about the place and its inhabitants. In truth, I had been to the castle once before—or would come there once more?—but at that time, it had been merely a ruin, inhabited by no one.
Foolish or not for putting myself in this situation, here I was, and I did think trying to learn something of the place to which I was headed was a good idea. Information would allow me to prepare, and preparation I definitely needed in order to lie effectively about my origin, for no one could know where I truly came from. Such was life for one with the misfortune of being cursed with a face of glass.
Jamie’s tales provided more than information, though. They were entertainment. He certainly had a gift for storytelling, and I enjoyed listening to him. Though his tales had initially unsettled me a bit, they were further confirmation that I truly was in the past—the eighteenth century—something I had realised when I happened upon Captain Randall, but still naïvely hoped to be a dream.
I hadn’t realised it then, but when Jamie asked me to come with him, I had made a decision to stay—for now, at least—in this time. There was little left for me where I came from, save that perilous boredom.
“I have to ask, Sassenach,” Jamie said, suddenly. “Why is it ye were lost in the forest in the first place? It seems unsafe for a lady such as yourself to travel alone, you could easily be—well, you know what could happen.”
I did. My unfortunate encounter with Captain Randall was not one I’d soon forget. It was only luck that had allowed me to get away unscathed. Luck in the form of a dashing rescuer, Jamie Fraser.
I tried to come up with a good explanation as to why I had wandered astray in the forest, but I had none. How could I tell him how I’d ended up here when I barely understood it myself?
I twirled the golden ring on my finger. I had told him I was widowed, mostly because I suspected the term divorced would be frowned upon, considering the times—even in my time, it wasn’t exactly something women would boast about.
I knew I had to tell Jamie something, even if I didn’t think he would force me to reveal something I didn’t wish to. He seemed to be a kind man, a gentle man, maybe even a loving man. He hadn’t talked extensively about his home, but he had mentioned a sister and of her, he’d talked very fondly. Family, it seemed, he valued greatly.
I took a deep breath.
“It’s a long story,” I began slowly, mentally berating myself for the, at best, clichéd opener; at worst, seeming attempt to stall or avoid answering altogether. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you why, but … I ran away.” That was partly true. With an ever-revealing face like mine, it was always better to stick closer to the truth than to outright lie.
That’s what I thought, at least, until Jamie, genuinely worried, said, “Are ye in danger? Are ye being chased by someone who wishes to do ye harm?”
His worry both warmed my heart and troubled me. Had he cared less, he would’ve asked fewer questions. It was unlikely that he’d be satisfied until he knew I wasn’t in any danger.
“No,” I said, with as much conviction as I could muster, “I promise, no one’s looking for me.”
I couldn’t see his face as we were on horseback, him sitting behind me, but I could imagine the look of concern that refused to leave his face.
“Did you know him?” I asked, eager to change the subject. “Captain Randall, that is.” I had seen how he’d looked at the captain when they fought, something that suggested there was more to his fury than seeing a stranger about to take a woman by force.
“Aye. I ken him.”
I glanced back, startled by the brevity. His gaze was fixed somewhere far off, his posture stiff. Whatever he was looking at, I couldn’t say, but then I thought neither could he. He seemed lost in thought, reliving a memory.
I was undeniably curious and wanted to ask how their paths had crossed before, what Randall had done to make this man hate him so. I didn’t ask, though. Whatever it was, if Jamie’s expression was anything to go by, it was not a pleasant topic of conversation.
While I understood that he might not wish to speak of something that seemed to pain him, I found myself a bit surprised seeing as he’d been so unusually, yet pleasantly, forthcoming with information about himself during our ride.
He had told me a number of things about himself. He had told me that, not too long ago, he had been an outlaw, and only recently had he been pardoned.
He’d said the price on his head had prevented him from returning to Lallybroch, as his ancestral home was called, and that was why he stayed at Leoch. What he hadn’t told me was why he, now a free man, chose to remain there, instead of returning home.
When we arrived at the castle, a woman rushed out to greet—or rather, scold Jamie. She eyed Jamie with disapproval and me with suspicion.
“What do ye mean by disappearing like that, lad? Gone all night! People have been askin’ for ye, not to mention—”
“Mrs Fitz,” said Jamie, as he helped me dismount. “This is—”
“And what do we have here?” asked Mrs Fitz. She surveyed me from top to toe. Her eyes lingered on my once-white dress with particular curiosity and not a little disfavour.
“Claire Beauchamp,” said Jamie. “I brought her here for protection.”
“Is that so?” Her face softened, the initial suspicion towards me subsiding.
“Aye. Would ye make sure she has some proper clothes? I should speak to my uncle.”
“Aye, and then there are other people who’d like to speak to ye as well, as I’m sure ye ken. I wouldna advise ye to wait too long.”
“Wait!” As Jamie was about to walk away, I reached out a hand, putting it gently on his arm, prompting him to stay. “Your wound. Unless you want it to get infected, you should let me clean and dress it properly.”
Having earned Jamie’s trust in my medical abilities after helping him with his shoulder the day before, he agreed without objection.
Mrs Fitz kindly showed us to a room where I could tend to my patient. The room was dark and cold, and the many shelves that adorned the stone walls were crammed with jars that clearly hadn’t been touched in a while; they were covered with dust.
Upon entering, I had turned my questioning gaze to Mrs Fitz, who explained, “’Tis the surgery. It hasena been used in some time, no since Davie Beaton passed.”
The temperature problem was soon remedied by a fire, and Mrs Fitz left us alone.
I hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Jamie’s bare back when he removed his shirt so I could tend to his shoulder. Scars covered the expanse of his back.
“The Redcoats,” Jamie explained. “They flogged me twice in the space of a week. They’d have done it twice the same day, I expect, were they no afraid of killing me. There’s no joy in flogging a dead man.”
“I shouldn’t think anyone would do such a thing for joy.”
“If Randall was not precisely joyous, he was at least very pleased with himself.”
I understood, then. Or, at least I thought I did. His hatred towards Captain Randall, the painful memory he hadn’t wished to speak about. This was it.
Much to my surprise, Jamie did speak of it now though. His earlier reluctance to do so had apparently dissolved. I wondered why. Was it something I’d done to prove myself more trustworthy? Was it that I’d now seen the scars, so I might as well know the story behind them? Perhaps he worried I would misjudge him for his scars if I didn’t know the full story.
He recounted the event whilst I dressed his wound. This was a far less cheerful tale than those he had shared with me on horseback, but his storytelling was vivid as ever.
I met his eyes, trying to show him the same sympathy and understanding he had shown me the day before. Since the moment we met, Jamie had been nothing but kind to me. He had shown more compassion than any man I’d ever met.
I stroked his arm to comfort him, and his lips curved upwards in reply. He looked younger when he smiled; there was something boyish about it. I realised that he must, in fact, be younger. That thought hadn’t occurred to me when he’d acted as my rescuer and protector. While I appreciated his heroic side, what drew me in was the vulnerability he had shown me, sharing his scars.
Hand still lingering on his arm, I leaned in slowly, my eyes not leaving his. I could feel his breath hot against my lips. An inch, and I would touch his lips—
He pulled back.
I didn’t quite know what to feel. Confusion hit me first, followed by shock that was soon replaced by embarrassment.
My eyes sought his, to ask for an explanation, or see if I had misinterpreted the situation, but he turned his head away, hiding his expression.
Mrs Fitz could not have returned at a better time. She helped me escape, as she was to fulfil Jamie’s request that I be given proper attire.
Before our departure she reminded Jamie once more to seek out his uncle Colum.
I followed her to a guest bedroom where she helped me change into a more appropriate dress, and sometime thereafter came a dark-haired man by the name of Murtagh to inform me that The MacKenzie wished to speak to me.
Mrs Fitz gave me an encouraging smile before I departed.
My escort, by contrast, didn’t speak another word to me, let alone smile.
Jamie had told me about Colum MacKenzie, Chief of Clan MacKenzie, but not in great detail. He had had more to say about his other uncle, Dougal, the war chief. Despite our awkward encounter, I found myself wishing Jamie was there by my side as I entered the tower room where the MacKenzie was waiting.
My silent escort was still waiting for me when I exited, but he wasn’t alone. Jamie was with him.
I couldn’t help but smile in relief at the sight.
“What did he say?” Jamie asked at once, excitement in his tone.
“You ask as though you don’t already know! You talked to him about me,” I said, crossing my arms, “you told him I was a healer.”
“Aye, I had to say something so he’d let ye stay, didn’t I? He was verra suspicious at first when I said I’d brought a Sassenach here.”
“I’d say he was still verra suspicious when we spoke,” I said in a poor imitation of his accent. Colum had been suspicious, but he had let me stay nonetheless, thanks to Jamie. He had gifted me the late Davie Beaton’s surgery, in return for my serving as the castle’s new healer, for the duration of my visit.
“He did invite me to the hall tonight, though,” I continued, “there is to be a Welsh singer apparently—”
“JAMIE FRASER!” The voice came from somewhere farther down the stairs. Rapid footsteps that likely belonged to the voice echoed loudly as they neared.
Jamie, having tensed up at the high-pitched shriek, looked over at Murtagh, wordlessly asking for counsel.
Murtagh raised his eyebrows so as to say, “What did I tell you?” making me wonder just what Murtagh had told Jamie and why.
The footsteps reached the top of the stairs and facing us was now a young, round-faced girl with her arms crossed over her chest. Her pale eyes narrowed as they noticed me.
“Jamie Fraser!” she repeated. It was less of a shriek this time, but no less angry. “Where have ye been!?”
Jamie opened his mouth to explain, but the girl cut him off.
“And whois that!?” Her voice was venomous as she jerked her head rudely at me.
“Ah … this is Claire Beauchamp,” he said, “she’s a guest of the MacKenzie and the new healer of the castle.” Evidently explaining me was easier than explaining his whereabouts since yesterday afternoon.
The girl was still waiting for further explanation. Jamie sighed and said, “I was out riding.”
“RIDING!? Ye mean to say ye’ve been out riding all night?”
“Laoghaire, perhaps we can have this conversation in private?”
The girl—Laoghaire—muttered something, then turned and started walking down the stairs, Jamie following her.
“Who was that?” I asked Murtagh after they had left.
I usually never post these kind of things, but because I’m terribly sick and I have loads of time to think about stuff, here goes
It is totally okay to have a pee kink
Honestly, I kinkshamed myself for years. For years I believed I was a freak, or that I liked something totally disgusting. Therefore I was disgusting.
It’s totally okay to like whatever it is that makes you feel good, in any way, sexual or not. If pee makes you feel all fuzzy and warm inside, then that’s a good thing, and nothing more. Not disgusting. Good.
AND TO ANYONE THINKING ABOUT CONFESSING THEIR OMO KINK TO SOMEONE
Do it. Don’t be afraid. I’ve told all my friends, I told my ex, I’ve told all the people wanting to get close to me.
And not a single one of them has ever said or done anything to hurt me. Sure, I’ve gotten a lot of “What? Uh…That’s…okayy???” but like, honestly, that’s about the worst thing I’ve heard. None of them started treating me differently. My best friend sends me piss memes now, and draws me omo, even though it’s not her thing.She’s amazing, and I love her. And she doesn’t hate me for what I am. None of my other friends do either.
The people around you might be more open minded and supportive than you think, just give them the chance to be.
And Don’t hold yourself back (that…was a bad pun) , because if they do start treating you like shit, they weren’t good friends to begin with.
Love yourself, love your kinks, cuddle the puddles and so on.
HAPPY HINAKAGE DAY!!! This is office AU/executive KageHina verse~
Silent on the workfloor late. Second glass of scotch late. Light from a single desk lamp glinting off the floor to ceiling office windows late. If Hinata turned it off, the reflection would die, and there would be nothing but him and all the lights scattered in the city below.
Hinata leans back in his chair and rubs at his eyes. He should probably call it a night, but he’s working on a deck for a major funding presentation and he doesn’t want to quit until he has a rough outline for all the slides. They’re on a roll right now, just closed a huge deal earlier that week. They need to keep that momentum going.
He gets up to stretch his legs, remembering to grab his scotch glass at the last moment. One of the perks of being co-CEO of one of the most successful companies in Japan is this executive suite—it can barely be called an office. He’s never been one for these ostentatious displays of power, but he understands the nuances of business enough to know that it’s not handshakes, but where those handshakes take place, that close deals.
And he loves these windows. Wall-to-wall of his corner office, looking out over Tokyo. He leans up against the window, the glass cool on his forearm. He’s long since discarded his expensive grey suit jacket, rolled his sleeves to his elbows, loosened his tie. He leaves his vest on, only because he’s too ready to be done to bother taking it off. It’s been one of those days.
A knock on his office door surprises him. The door is open, he rarely closes it to encourage people coming in to see him, no matter what level of employee they are. He turns to see who else is still on the floor this late and… of course.
Kageyama, the company’s other co-CEO (initially its only CEO, before they took the big risk of bringing Hinata on), works on the other side of the building, in the other corner office. He tends to venture out far more rarely than Hinata does. Hinata likes to take laps around the floor, or go up to the rooftop, or down to the zen gardens to feed the koi in the pond, sometimes all in the course of one day. Occasionally, he manages to convince Kageyama to come with him, when he really needs to think out loud. But Kageyama prefers to stay at his desk, only leaving for meetings, and lunch.
He’s here now, though, leaning against the doorframe, watching Hinata without a word. He’s wearing one of his overcoats; Burberry, Hinata thinks. Long and black and no doubt expensive, even though it’s not cold out.
It’s only 3pm, but I consider my work for today done – I’m on break anyways. I’ve organised my next week on both my blackboard/weekly planner and my journal (actually noticing I’ve done quite some work already, even though I didn’t think I did). I checked my literature notes on Woolf, adding missing information (names, places, etc… that my prof briefly mentioned but might add in an incoming test. I know how he works now.) and prepared for the next seminar (sadly working on two characters’ deaths (and my fav?? I was so disappointed in myself for getting attached to a secondary character and having him dying… again)). Next today? Reading. Mostly reading, and taking the train to the countryside. I’ll probably finish Adam Silvera’s History is all you left me, although I tried to read it slowly enough for it to last (not happening), and start Six of Crows’ sequel (I’ve had it on my Kindle since Christmas and simply forgot about it because of exams and starting the semester.)
So I’ve been posting little “what if” type things since the episode last night, The ABCs of Beth. Here’s my full theory typed out. Obviously there’s spoilers.
Let’s go all the way back to the premiere of season three. We see a part in which Rick is working and blows up the garage. Now he is told that it is impossible to alter memories. But, is it? Is it impossible for Rick to do such a thing? He is constantly jumping from universe to universe, erasing memories, viewing scenarios that alternate versions of himself have experienced. He could easily trick himself into thinking that it was something he heard another Rick tell him, think it was something that had to be made up, something that must have been seen in a show. I’m sure he knows ways around it.
If he did manage to find a way to alter a memory, what does that mean? That means there was an accident, that means that Rick did lose Diana and Beth. This could have been the very turning point in his life. Let’s be real here, the Rick we know, he never would have settled down and started a family. There is Unity, but even then we see him dragging her down with him and using her.
I think the loss of Diana and Beth would have been hard for him, and that’s when he started really focusing on science. That’s when he started learning how to travel from universe to universe and cloning. Once he mastered it, he cloned Diana and Beth, but it was never the same. He still remembered what happened and he couldn’t stand it. Suddenly his family’s existence became meaningless. He messed up, yet they were still there. Even if he hadn’t cloned them, he could go to a different timeline and replace them. They would never actually be his though. I think that’s why he left. He couldn’t be around them anymore because he knew. They might not have known, but he knew.
Now onto present time with Rick and Beth. I think she chose to make the clone of herself. I think the scene of her looking at the photos and smiling, I think that was her deciding that it was best for her to leave them, that she had done her damage and that a clone could do a “better” job while she took a break to go off and find herself. Personally, I think this has been a long time coming. Throughout the show we have seen Beth go through periods of not knowing who she is and sort of following in Rick’s steps. The only thing left for her to do was to leave her family just as he had done. I think ultimately she will grow to become him. She will see everything he has and her view of the world will become more and more nihilistic. The more you know, the less everything matters. I do think out there is a Citadel full of Beths, just as bitter as the Ricks. They all left their families with clones to find themselves and got stuck.
How does this tie into Evil Morty? Well, I think somewhere in Beth’s travels, she will stumble upon a universe in which Rick never left his family. In that universe, Summer probably does not exist, but a Morty does. Jerry’s probably a lot more mature since they didn’t get married at such a young age, they had a chance to get their lives together before having a child. Beth is a surgeon and Jerry has a real job. They’re both gone a lot and Morty is left with Rick. This is the universe where Morty doesn’t fully learn about consequences.
Throughout the series, we see Morty learning about life, about how bad Rick is and how bad his parents are and his sister. He doesn’t want to become that. I think this Morty, Evil Morty, misses out on a lot of that and simply learns that he wants some sort of power. He watches Rick, he starts learning from him and eventually becomes smarter than him. He watches Rick and learns from his mistake in an entirely different way. His life isn’t unstable so he doesn’t see the value of trying to do the right thing and overcoming challenges. At the same time, visiting the Citadel often, I think he sees through Rick, I think he’s tired of the Ricks always getting their way and using Mortys, himself specifically.
What does this mean? That in the universe where Rick got to do everything he wanted, Beth got screwed over. In the universe where Beth got everything she wanted, Rick and Morty both get screwed over. It means that no matter what, even with the infinite amount of universes and Ricks and Mortys and Beths and Jerrys and Summers, there is no such thing as perfect. No matter what, there is always going to be something wrong and someone is always going to have to suffer for someone else’s happiness.
A/N: I have no excuse. I’m gay dragon trash and I didn’t write anything for any fandom for Valentine’s Day specifically this year, so I whipped this up this morning (in addition to another fic which I shall post later).
Blame my followers. They only encouraged me to write for these two gay idiots and their dragon daughter and now I’m hooked and will probably write more…
When Kobayashi had left the apartment that morning, she’d sent out a silent prayer to the universe itself that nothing too crazy would happen today.
She found herself making that wish just about every day now, but it wasn’t always granted, considering the company she was keeping back at home.
She merely went to work as usual and kept her fingers crossed. She hadn’t even remembered about Valentine’s Day until she’d gotten into the office and heard most of her male co-workers mumbling about how they still needed to buy last-minute gifts for their wives or girlfriends.
Oh, Kobayashi thinks briefly. I guess today is that holiday… I doubt Tohru knows about it. It might be best if it stays that way.
Oh my gosh, I actually finally posted something. Crazy, right? This is one of the prompts for zutara smut week. It’s not the first prompt, smut week is over, and there isn’t even any sex in it. I know, I’m great at following directions. Hope y’all like this Boiling Rock AU anyways!
Zuko was exhausted. As nice as the family reunion between Hakoda and his children was, Zuko hadn’t gotten a good night sleep since before venturing to the Boiling Rock. As the family hugged and cried and caught up, Zuko slipped away, doing his best to leave unnoticed.
He wasted no time falling into bed, practically jumping into it once he entered his room. It wasn’t until his time as a refugee that he realized what a luxury beds were, and from now on he was going to thank the spirits every time he got to sleep in one.
Zuko’s eyes hadn’t been closed a minute when he heard the door to his room open. He opened his good eye to see Katara standing in the doorway. Zuko shot out of bed, surprised by the intrusion. She must have seen him leave and immediately followed him back.
This one is dedicated to everybody who is stressed right now and to everybody who has to write exams at the moment (including myself).
Prompt: here Genre: fluff Word Count: 1678 Summary: Simon works as a teacher in a high school and has a crush on another one of the teachers, Baz. When Simon is in a desperate situation, Baz decides to help out.
no. Fuck no. It’s the voice of Mister Sexy. (That’s not his name.
Except he might possibly be the most handsome person I’ve ever seen.)
turn around, slowly, because there’s the silly hope that he might not
see me if I don’t make any sudden movements. He’s already seen me.
Maybe he’s right when he says I’m stupid.
there he stand in the corridor, looking absolutely perfect, which
isn’t fair. Because right now I’m wearing the ugly yellow T-Shirt
that’s a bit stained with paint and that I usually only wear to
sleep. Also, I’m pretty sure there are cobwebs stuck in my hair. So
basically I look like I have never heard of the existence of mirrors
and he looks like the definition of stunning.
that’s just great. Couldn’t have gone any better. Except now the urge
to bang my head against the wall has increased by four hundred
percent. (He would know. He’s a maths teacher – history, too, and
politics, but I swear if you could choose more than three subjects,
he’d be qualified to teach any subject in school. I’m not making that
up, I saw in his qualifications that he can speak five different
languages. I mean, it’s not like I’ve been stalking him. It’s just
that I happened to stumble across them. Somehow. And I saw him play
football with the sports teachers. He’s really good at it. I’m just
searching for something he’s not
stalking him, Crowley.)
the reason why I want to bang my head against the wall. “Why are
you under the staircase?” And
I’m under the staircase.
Hey anon, I’m like. SUPER fond of this crossover ok?? I actually drew it a little already! It’s actually BECAUSE of a Mob Psychonauts crossover that I discovered Psychonauts! If I never reblogged that art way back when, and if Xi didn’t explain it more to me, I would have probably never played this wonderful game! ;v;
That crossover was a “what if Psychonauts came to Mob’s world”, which I do love, but I wanted to try it in the opposite direction here :’D I tried real hard not to draw stuff for it coz HECK I HAVE ALOT OF AUS BUT here are some short dumb comics and my attempt at Black Velvetopia! Raz and Mob ;7;
THIS IS ALL SPECULATION AND OH MY DAYS SO MANY SPOILERS!!
The Kingdom Key and Kingdom Key D are two unique blades the way that the x-blade was. They aren’t a representation of one’s heart, but constants that need to exist. This is probably because the x-blade was shattered or something. When the worlds became a realm of darkness and a realm of light, the KK was the light’s half of the x-blade and the KKD was the darkness’s half. They probably weren’t made from the x-blade themselves, but came to exist because of the state of the universe, much the way the x-blade did.
Anyway, KK and KKD are special. They reside in their respective realms to protect it. They have their own “consciousness” as it is, where they can choose their wielders. In my head, I always thought that they wouldn’t choose a wielder unless their realm was in peril. So when all the worlds start vanishing in KH1, the KK is like “woah hey what? damnit I better find myself a wielder”. It found Riku - one of few already anointed with using a keyblade - and I was like “sure this kid seems legit”. Then Riku went all darkness and the key was like “damnit, and I came all the way out here”. But he sees Sora, who has the heart of a keyblade wielder (Ven) and is like “actually this kid might work instead”. Then in Hallow Bastion it sees Riku again and is like “you’re that kid!” and goes with him. Then KK is like “actually you’re a dick and I like the other kid more” and goes back to Sora. And that’s the story of the KK.
So then there’s the KKD, chillin’ in darkness like “yeah man lovin’ this darkness gonna stay here forever” and then a mouse comes and picks it up. And the KKD is like “well, I mean, it’s been a while since like. I’ve done anything. Might as well.” and sticks with Mickey. But if it ever wanted to leave it probably could. Though I think the KKD and KK are both in this for the same reason: they want balance. Neither wants to see Light or Darkness consume everything. That’s why KKD stays with Mickey.
So, now let’s delve into keyblades as a whole. They were said to be “forged in reverence of the x-blade”, which is sort of weird since the x-blade looks dumb as hell and the keyblades look pretty rad most of the time. Maybe it’s like how an artist sees someone’s work and thinks “ha, I could do that, but better”. Anyway. “Forged” here is a pretty loose term, since hearts forge keyblades, but also like… you could just forge them out of metal, right? For the sake of simplicity and in the continuity of the franchise, let’s just define “forged” as “created with one’s heart”. This materializes a keyblade for the use of its owner. BUT it seems like whenever the owner dies, the keyblade can continue to exist. Since you know. The graveyard. This basically defies everything I know about creating and destroying matter but whatever.
So anyway. Wielders make keyblades with strong hearts. Are they blessed or something? IMO, it seems sort of like “forging a keyblade” was pretty damn easy before the world fell apart (KHUX). Maybe this is like a defense mechanism? Kingdom Hearts is like “well shit, I see what you guys do when keyblades are dime a dozen - you start wars! So you know what. New universe, new rules. No keyblades for anybody. Except these two new ones, KKL and KKD. No more wars. Stop it.” To which the very few keyblade wielders who survived the sundering were like “right, but how about we make a ceremony that lets us pass on the keyblade powers to new people, since like, we totally learned our lesson and won’t start another war”. So then the Ceremony came to be (which is just touching a keyblade apparently?? I think here’s more to it, but I’ll get to that in a minute).
So here we are in the new universe and we’ve got a few keys. The x-blade is broke, but that doesn’t matter until it becomes an essential and awkwardly convenient plot point. The KK and KKD are newly born. And I guess No Name (Xehanort’s blade in BBS and Master of Masters’ blade in Back Cover) survived, because why not. And then there’s the Dandelions. And that’s it. All the other keyblades are inert, since their wielders are dead. So someone passes the power of the keyblades onto Eraqus, Xehanort, and Yen Sid. Hopefully this gets revealed in KH3 since we got that awesome chess scene with chubby baby Eraqus. Yen Sid trains Mickey, then retires. Xehanort trains Ven, then fucks up literally everything. Eraqus trains Terra and Aqua, then dies. So we’ve gone from three to four wielders in one generation, since Eraqus thinks he’s special. I don’t know what “retiring” means in terms of using a keyblade, but it’s pretty safe to assume Yen Sid isn’t going to do anything but talk for the whole franchise. Xehanort takes over Terra. So we’re sitting at four wielders and six keyblades (since Terra/Xehanort each have one, and Aqua has Eraqus’s).
This brings about a whole other argument. Though the wielders die (Eraqus & in theory, No Name) the keyblades retain their power. Which is sort of in conflict with the keyblade graveyard. I think this has a lot to do with intent. Eraqus had always intended his keyblade to be passed down to Aqua in case he fell. MoM had always intended No Name to move forward through time. Each served their master’s purpose even after the master’s demise, so… in a way, they still had the heart of their master. I think this also explains why Aqua can’t summon her own keyblade anymore after the end of BBS. Her intent for her keyblade was to watch over Terra. It’s still doing that, in the Chamber of Repose. Then again, maybe keyblades can’t be summoned into the Realm of Darkness if they preside in the Realm of Light? Who knows.
Keeping the theme of intent, I think it has a lot to do with the Keyblade Ceremony. In every instance of the ceremony, the master intends to give the power away (Terra to Riku, for instance). So I think there’s more to it than just “touching the blade”. The only circumstance that defies this rule is Aqua to Kairi, but Kairi is a Princess of Heart so she can do whatever the hell she wants. So by the end of BBS, we’re sitting at six (potential) keyblade wielders and eight keyblades. Cue KK and KKD, makes ten. Actually, if we want to get technical, Xehanort might have been able to summon his own keyblade before being given No Name. So maybe eleven? At this point, the original Kingdom Hearts must be pretty pissed off.
So then there’s Sora. Who never had his own keyblade. Which I think is pretty cool. KK is Sora’s bro after KH1, so he never really needs one. And he was never given the ceremony officially. Though it could be argued that by housing Ven’s heart, it gave Sora the ability to have his own keyblade, but just the same it could be argued that once Ven’s heart is gone Sora might not be able to hold a keyblade at all. (I doubt that’ll be the case, but it’s funny to think about.) What are we at? Seven wielders, ten (possibly 11) blades?
Sora goes all sleepy time, so Roxas steals his Kingdom Key. KK is probably like “this is Sora! Feels like Sora. Probably Sora. I wish I had a glowing blue eye so I could be sure, but hey, whatever”. Xion “copies” Roxas’s key, explaining the two KKs at the same time. This is probably Ven’s keyblade since she’s siphoning parts of Sora out of Roxas, and the KK appearance is an illusion created from copying Roxas.
Xion dies. Roxas gets her keyblade (which was Ven’s). Dual wielding ass kicking ensues. Then when Sora wakes up, he can dual wield because Roxas - who is a part of him - unlocked that power for him. I think this is a really cool plot point actually, because it means when Ven gets his heart back, Sora will need to learn to manifest a keyblade of his own (not the KK) in order to dual wield again!! :D I’m all about Sora learning how to forge his own keyblade.
Let’s see. Lea gets a keyblade from Yen Sid’s ceremony. Bringing our total wielder count to eight: Destiny trio, Wayfinder trio, Mickey, Lea. Eleven keyblades: listed above (including KK for Sora), KKD (which means Mickey can probably dual wield), Master Defender (hopefully dual wielding Aqua in the future?!), and No Name (Terranort can officially dual wield..?).
Then keychains. Don’t worry, I’m almost done. “Keychains” modify the appearance of an existing keyblade. I actually don’t think keychains are actual keychains in most cases. It’s just that certain memories and experiences can color your heart, changing the appearance of your keyblade. The exception to this could possibly be Oathkeeper, since Kairi actually gives Sora a charm. But I don’t think he clips that thing on the end of his keyblade - I think just the memories of her and stuff bring about the transformation. Or maybe they are real keychains, but they are made when the heart remembers those memories? Because honestly, obtaining actual magical keychains seems absurd to me. This really isn’t elaborated on in any way.
Importantly, however! there are no keychains on the keyblades in the Graveyard. So maybe keychains are tied to a wielder’s heart, and when the wielder dies, the keyblade can be left behind but not the keychain itself. Again, there are exceptions with Master Defender (Eraqus) and No Name, since there is still intent in these blades. It’s interesting to think about. Also the Keyblade of Heart (forged from the seven princesses) doesn’t have a keychain. Maybe because it has no wielder? It’s a combination of seven hearts, rather than one? I don’t know.
ANYWAY. This was a lot longer than I wanted it to be, but I think about keyblades a lot. If anyone has anything to add or correct me on, PLEASE tell me because I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS STUFF!!! :D
A/N: I mentally sobbed while typing this, this is adorable and i probably should focus on my school work now whoops. Leave any requests in my messages or asks !
Prompt: based off the song “Someone You Like” by The Girl And The Dreamcatcher, with ramblings from Tom’s mind, then the reader’s mind, then ends with Tom’s again.
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Warnings: adorable, the fluffiest, you will probably cry at how cute this is
“I saw you with that ribbon in your hair Think that I began to stare Maybe I’ll love you for a while”
There she was. The girl I always see in the same coffee shop every day. With that adorable thin blue ribbon in her hair. Every time I come in and see her, I stare until she leaves. Sounds kinda creepy, but she’s beautiful. If it’s possible, I feel like I’ve fallen in love. One-sided love at first sight.
If you try out the style of drafting I’ve been talking about on this blog, your first draft will look very different from first drafts you’re used to. It may not even look much like a story yet, or at least like one you could hand over to a reader. It may look more like a detailed outline or a bunch of serial story notes. Some people don’t even call these things first drafts; I think of them as .5 drafts.
This method won’t suit everybody. It’s best for people who get badly hung up trying to write a more traditional first draft, the kind that’s basically a complete and readable story right off the bat. I’ve never been able to write that kind of draft without putting myself through hell. I switched to this method out of necessity, because I literallycouldn’t write the old way anymore. And once I tried it, I found the results easier to work with even though my first drafts looked half-baked in comparison with my old ones.
So, if you draft quickly and messily, you’ll have to change the way you write your second draft as well, since you’re starting with a very different kind of document. Your second draft will more closely resemble a traditional first draft—except it will, if this method suits you, be a lot better and cost you less agony.
Here’s what I do:
If I wrote my first draft with little conscious attention to my means of expression except what I needed to communicate my ideas to myself (which is the whole purpose of doing it this way), then I write my second draft with more of an eye toward form. I think about word choice and sentence rhythmn. I think about the telling detail. I think about evocative description. I think about the way it sounds. I think, in short, about my reader’s experience. This is how most writers tell you to treat the first and second drafts anyway; Stephen King says in On Writing to “write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.” In other words, the first draft is only for you, a long memo to yourself that does nothing but externalize your ideas for the story. (The difference is that King can apparently do this in complete sentences and lively prose, and I cannot.) The second draft, then, is for other people—it’s you taking your raw ideas and turning them toward the reader.
Before I even start my second draft, I print out my first and make lots of notes in the margins. I find the big holes and plug them. I note where certain sections need to expand or shorten. I flesh out conversations with action and description. In other words, I leave myself some guideposts for turning that messy first draft into a second.
Then—this is key—Idon’t touch my first draft. I open a new, blank document and put it next to the first one. (I also lay out my marked-up copy in front of me; but you could scan it and make a PDF if you want.) Then I start writing my second draft clean, essentially “translating” the first draft’s raw thoughts into the more carefully crafted language of the second. I’ve already got that substrate of action, ideas, and metaphors laid out; all I’m doing is turning it into readable prose.
I try not to do this too slowly. I’m always tempted to make my second draft my final one, and thus to obsess over the perfect words. All this does is return me to my old habits of writing. So I try to carry some of that “I’ll fix it later” spirit of the first draft over into my second, even though I’m now thinking more carefully about my prose. If you’re prone to endless noodling when you write, you might even set time limits for your second draft. Don’t try to get it perfect; just get it readable.
Then I leave the story alone for a while—a few days, a few weeks, whatever. When I return to it, depending on my goals for the project I might decide it’s done! More often than not, though, it needs a third pass. So I print it out again and really start fine-tuning the prose. Personally, I revise by hand and then enter the changes into the document; again, that saves me from endless tinkering. (Computers are evil that way; when you write by hand, you tinker less, because it’s less convenient and takes more physical effort.) I even know people who type out their third draft in a fresh document, which I’ve been meaning to try.
Here’s the important part: the more I limit myself to clearly defined and time-limited “passes” through the whole story without pausing too long to labor over a single passage, the happier I am. Instead of making endless changes to a single document, I produce a series of documents that refine themselves with each version. So I generate more drafts than I did in the old days—but as someone who once spent months tinkering with the first 500 words of a novel-length story, I find this infinitely preferable. (I never finished that story, by the way.)
If you like to get feedback on a story, hand it off to a reader at the second-draft stage. Don’t wait until it’s “perfect” to let somebody read it. Remember, your idea of perfect is skewed. And a reader can help you identify major issues before you’ve spent too much time polishing. Your story tends to grow less malleable as you go, so if big things need to change, you’ll want to change them at the earliest stage possible. (One of these days I’ll write a post about getting and using feedback.)
The only other thing I can think of right now is Bumbleby with Blake's family though I have seen it done before
Belladonna family headcanons with bumblebee
Sun totally gave Yang some advice before
she met Blake’s parents. His advice wasn’t necessarily the best but the thought
Kali didn’t tell anyone but she already
planned the whole wedding in her head. She didn’t really need to tell anyone though,
her comment on how stunning Yang would look in a white dress kinda gave it
Kali might be the worst bumblebee
shipper the world has ever seen, but honestly it was the same when she still
thought Blake and Sun could become a thing. It would totally be the same with
every decent person Blake brings home. She just wants her little girl to be
happy, with someone who truly loves and cherishes her, someone who treats her well.
At first Ghira didn’t like Yang. He’s a
bit overprotective and he doesn’t want anyone too close to his precious little
girl. He’s too scared someone might break her heart.
Tension was high when Blake introduced
Yang to her family because of that. Half of the evening Ghira just sat there, arms
crossed, and the looks he gave Yang would have scared the hell out of most
people. Yang tried very hard to be nice and everything, Kali tried everything
to make Yang feel welcome, and Blake who had already spend days trying to convince
her father to be nice to Yang gave him the angriest looks she could.
Eventually Yang couldn’t stand it
anymore and openly asked Ghira why he didn’t like her. He made a comment on how
he doesn’t have to like every wild blonde Blake brings home, Blake almost
screamed at him, but Yang just slammed her prosthetic on the table and told him
she had lost an arm while protecting his daughter, she at least deserved a fair chance.
Dead silence until Kali asked if anyone liked some dessert. From then on Yang had his respect.
Ghira eventually started to really like
Yang. That special smile only Yang can put on Blake’s face, small but full of
true bliss, it’s his favourite thing to see.
You can still see a dent where Yang slammed her metal fist on the table. She’s a bit proud of it.
falling kingdoms fantasy, there’s many povs but my favourite ones are the enemies to lovers couple [the last book is coming out next year so maybe wait a bit bc book 5 ends in the worst cliffhanger (no i have not been crying about it for almost a year)]
the wrath and the dawn fantasy, it’s a retelling of a thousand and one nights but it’s kinda insta love?? so the real enemies part ends at book 1… but i rlly liked the settings
i think uprooted has also this trope… i have it but still haven’t got to read it, lots of people love it i think but i can’t guarantee for it just yet (i think it has sex and it might be kinda dark…)
the iron fey series, i haven’t read them but astrid says they’re good though they have a love triangle
the bone seasondystopian london in the future where ghosts are real (it’s a confusing book but u’ll get into it after the chapters & the romance is well done) (tho it also have mixed reviews) ((also the romance got age gap))
kulti new adult book about soccer. main char has been looking up to a soccer player since forever & now got that soccer player as her soccer coach. the romance got an age gap
kiss the sky also a new adult book, and it is in a series but u can read this + the sequel (fuel the fire) without reading the other books. (tho if u read like all the books then u get to see their relationship blossom from “hate” to love)
the duffenemies with benefit kinda. idk i really liked this one and it’s an easy read
all for the game kinda but not really enemies to lovers trope. the romance doesn’t happen until like the last book but holy shit it is worth it
((Here’s the drunk makeout think I promised! Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to write the cat sin, but I might finish it by the end of the night. No promises though. After that is done, we just have Murder. ~Mod Silver))
If you haven’t watched Amazon’s The Man in the High Castle yet, drop everything and go see it–like, now. I’m serious, that’s what I call some A+ television. I think I haven’t loved anything so much ever since Avatar (and that is a few years ago now).
Also, though making parallels feels like a big reach–I might say it does have some things with characters and their choices and their relationships and dynamics… things that might just slightly remind you of some of our beloved Avatar characters
now and then. In a complete different context, of course, but, you know. KINDA. I guess it’s just the fact that it’s really well witten and for me Avatar is the epitome of good writing, I don’t know. It’s just really, really good. really well done and amazingly developed so far.
Just some random thoughts but I had to pour all these emotions somewhere and I hope you guys can give this show a try because it’ really worth it