making the most of the world

Happy Birthday, Keith!

Shiro promised to make it up to Pidge for asking her what the date was every other day for the past two weeks.  Or was it four weeks?  Shiro wasn’t sure anymore.  It was difficult to keep track of time when most of theirs was spent light years away from Earth.  Thank goodness Pidge thought to sync her equipment to earth’s time the day they all left.

“It’s October 22nd,” she told him, glancing briefly at her watch.

“Time?”

“10:05 PM.”

Shiro grinned, feeling a burst of excitement in his chest.  “Great, things are right on schedule.  Allura, can you contact Kolivan?  I’m going to check in with Hunk in the kitchen.”


“Kolivan, who was that?” Keith asked as he walked into the briefing room of the Marmora headquarters.  The holographic image of a communication line had fizzled out of view just as he entered.

“It was Princess Allura,” he replied solemnly as he turned to Keith.  “She needs you at the Castle.  Now.”

The former Paladin felt his chest squeeze around his heart, nervous tingles needling down his shoulders and back.  Shiro usually acted as the liaison between the Blade and the team; why had Allura been the one to initiate contact?  “What is it?  Are they okay?” He swallowed past the tightness in his throat.  “Is… Shiro okay?”

“She didn’t give me much information.  It’s best that you depart immediately.”

Keith was already leaving before Kolivan could finish his sentence.  


Keith landed his ship in the shuttle bay, but the lights hadn’t switched on upon his arrival.  Something wasn’t right here, and the twisting feeling in his gut wouldn’t convince him otherwise.  He hopped down from his ship, wielding his knife in a tight grip as his mask materialized over his face.  Carefully, he weaved through the darkness, watching through the thermal imaging of his lenses for any heat signatures in the room.

He was alone.

Keith swallowed down a startled yelp as a booming roar echoed through the castle.  His entire being felt pulled toward to sound.  “Red?” he breathed before bolting to the lion’s hangar, his feet pounding against the metal floors.  Stumbling to a stop near the door, he smashed the button repeatedly until it slid open with a loud hiss, freezing at the sight before him.

Red was lying down on her belly, her chin resting against the floor and her paws on either side of her head.  Her eyes were glowing a soft yellow as she stared at him, and Keith could feel the gentle vibrations beneath his feet from her deep purring.  He felt an intense ache inside of his chest as he steadily approached her, letting his mask blur out of view and pressing his hand flat against her muzzle.

“I miss you, too, buddy,” he whispered, the corner of his lips pulling up into a sad smile.

He took a couple of steps back as she opened her mouth, his eyes darting around in confusion as several pairs of legs could be seen through the beginnings of the breach.  Soon enough, Red unveiled his teammates, grouped together with wide grins on their faces and party hats on their heads.  Hunk held a neatly decorated cake in his hands and a pile of colorfully-wrapped boxes were piled in Coran’s arms up to his mustache.

“Wha-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” they erupted in a chorus, throwing their arms up into the air.

Keith’s mouth fell open as he met each of their gazes with stunned, eyes wide.  “I…”

“Did we… did we do it right?” Allura asked tentatively, casting a worried glance at Shiro.

Keith nodded wordlessly, almost unaware of the tears that gathered in his eyes as a wide smile broke across his face.  “You guys… I can’t believe you… you did this.”  The weight of all of that worrying had lifted from his shoulders as he felt his chest expand with…

With love.

“It was Shiro’s idea.  He remembered that your birthday was coming up,” Pidge commented as they all made their way down the ramp toward him.  When given a curious look by the former Red Paladin, she tapped on her watch to answer his silent question.  “Asked me for the date every day for like, two months.”

“And Red and I rehearsed the whole thing!” Lance chimed in proudly.  “Didn’t we, girl?”

Hunk held up the cake, showing off an impressive design of Voltron decorated into the frosting. “I hope you like chocolate.  Or… hopefully the Unilu equivalent of chocolate…”

Keith chuckled, thanking his teammates as they gathered around him.  He turned his gaze up to Shiro, who stepped in front of him then, leaving little distance in between them.  “I wasn’t going to forget,” he said quietly, a warm smile pulling at his lips as he cradled a hand against the side of Keith’s face.  He bent down and pressed his lips against his forehead, letting them linger for a moment before pulling away.  “Happy birthday, Keith.”

Any gesture of affection in front of others would have normally embarrassed him, but Keith couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.  He was too happy.  “Thank you,” he whispered, reaching up and pressing Shiro’s hand against his cheek.  “For everything.”  

“Alright, alright, presents!” Lance announced, bouncing toward the exit.  “To the lounge! You’re opening mine first!”

Keith watched as his teammates filed out, Shiro waiting behind with him, and for the first time since he joined the Blade, he felt like he was home again.

The thing about solarpunk is that it’s a utopia that isn’t a utopia. “Utopia” by definition is an impossible world – the word itself literally means “not-place.” But solarpunk is entirely possible. We have all of the technology and resources necessary to transform our world into an eco-compatible greenhouse, to fill our cities with vines and trees, to make everywhere in the world a nature sanctuary, to convert ourselves entirely to solar and wind and water energy. We could do that. 

But it would require a leap of faith. It would require a change too enormous for most people to comprehend. it would require a world-wide devotion to the environment. It would require sacrificing many of our first world comforts. And it would require many people to give up not only their wealth, but their entire empires and industries. And that’s what makes it an improbably utopia. 

It’s the most beautiful and attainable future possible for the human race. And greed and laziness stand in the way of it ever becoming a reality. 

But I still refuse to believe that it’s impossible.

2

“The rest of your life is a long time and whether you know it or not, it’s being shaped right now. You can choose to blame your circumstances on fate, or bad luck, or bad choices, or you can fight back. Things aren’t always gonna be fair in the real world, that’s just the way it is. But for the most part you get what you give. Let me ask you all a question; what’s worse, not getting everything you wished for or getting it all and finding out it’s not enough. The rest of your life is being shaped right now with the dreams you chase, the choices you make, and the person you decide to be. The rest of your life is a long time and the rest of your life starts right now.”

“We aren’t fighting to hurt people. We… we just want to make a world where any two people can join hands!”

(click here for hi-res)

I am more than ever puzzled, my dear General, to know what to do…..I see that the people in whom you confide the most are a great part for the present far from you. I also candidly confess that private affection for you makes me hate the idea of leaving the man I love the most in the world to seek for uncertainties, at a period when he may want me. On the other hand….there is a possibility of being useful, and the love of glory spurs me on.
—  Marquis de Lafayette to George Washington, December 9, 1780. Penned while staying in Philadelphia, the question Lafayette posed ate at him. Should he return north to Washington and attempt to assist him in the precarious campaign to retake New York? Should he march south where the fighting seemed thickest? If he returned to Washington, speculation and planning would consume his time, leaving little room for action until (or if) the right moment presented itself. To ride south meant the chance to win laurels and to engage the enemy, but it separated the young major-general from his commander-in-chief. What to do….
If you feel overwhelmed just try to relax and...

If you feel overwhelmed just try to relax and look for one positive thought. Every good thing begins with one positive thought. You don’t need to change everything in your life instantly. All you need is one positive thought. You can hold-on to that thought, and it will remind you that there is hope. One simple, positive thought is enough to make it all worth it. All your troubles, struggles, pains, and suffering is worth one good thing. Those good things come to us just when we need them the most, like an angel throwing us a life-preserver before we go under the waters of despair. One positive thought can save your life or the life of another. One positive thought is the miracle for which you have been waiting. One positive thought will shift the entire world under your feet. One positive thought is something you can accomplish. One positive thought is the victory you need today!

— Bryant McGill

daisy-hearts  asked:

Can you do a headcanon mini spinoff off of your most recent one of Harry Hook dating a mermaid who escaped(you could change that if it makes it easier for you) the cruelty? If something more fluffy just him dating one in general?

- While Harry Hook is on his journey of traveling the world, freeing every captured mermaid everywhere he goes, he happens to run into a certain creature of the water that will forever change his life.

- When he first saw her, his blue eyes locking with her stunning chocolate ones, he felt a dozen butterflies swarming around in his stomach. Her long aqua and black braids floating carelessly the water, her light blue scales popping out against her dark skin. A golden spiral seashell hung off her neck with a thin metal chain, glistening in the sunlight.

- She doesn’t bother to put on a false smile for the children shouting for her attention while roughly tapping against the glass as the adults watch without a care. In fact, all she does is gracefully stay in one spot of her tank, her tail lightly swishing back and forth, while staring at Harry.

- Though maybe it would have been better if he didn’t, Harry couldn’t hell but notice the scars on her arms, tail, and chest- an obvious sign that whatever asshole who was in charge of this fair was more than okay with using whips as punishment for behavior.

- Harry steps forward, lightly making his way to a small wooden plaque on the corner of her glass cage, carved with the letters, “U-M-A”. Her name, written as if she was just a simple animal.

- He would soon find out later, but Uma is very “protective” of her name. After all, it’s the only thing she’s ever really owned that absolutely no one could take away from her.

- I suppose that’s why she’s here, people seem to believe that a mermaid has the same worth as any other creature of the wild so it doesn’t matter if they are locked up and caged for folk to walk by and stare at.

- So, when Harry and his crew come back later that night to rescue all of the captured mermaids when no one else is around, as they have done many times before, the teen makes sure that she is the first one on the boat when they sail off.

- In total, there were three mermaids that had rescued that night.

- Uma wasn’t exactly sure what was going on at first. Being caught once again just to be sold off on the black market, stolen for a quick fish meal, etc. All she did know, was that any other option was better than being stuck in that damn cage.

- The mermaids were put in crates in the lower deck as Gil, Harry’s good friend, explained what was going on. The plan was that Harry and his crew would take the mermaids to a safe place they know where mermaids can be kept safe. Even While Gil talked, Uma’s eyes were concentrated on Harry as she examined him up and down.

- It took a few days, but Uma and Harry finally talked. They shared stories and even cracked a couple jokes together. Their closeness would only grow incredibly until the ship had finally docked onto land, leading the mermaids through a calm river to a breathe taking lake hidden behind vines and leaves.

- Members of the ship had stayed the day to make sure that the mermaids would be fine, but at of the day, a certain mermaid had insisted that she would much rather prefer to stay with the crew and go out on adventures instead of staying trapped for one more second of her life.

- If there’s one thing the boy had learned about the dark eyes beauty, is that there is no use in saying no since her stubborn mind will probably end up wi5 her trailing after the ship anyways.

- Nights spent talking for hours on end.

- Matching rings with special engravings. (Uma’s is of a captain’s hat and Harry has a picture of waves.)

- Uma’s necklace was a gift from her mother who she was separated from when she was a child. A large goal for Uma is to find her mother some day.

- While Harry rescues mermaids and is totally against any cruelty towards the creatures, his father was known for capturing them and selling them for cheap cash.

anonymous asked:

I've agreed with almost everything you've said on this blog except for the idea that Iruma might get away with murdering Ouma. Her plan to frame Momota would immediately fall apart when Saihara read the label on the poison, which would make it obvious Momota was being framed and would leave Iruma as the most suspicious person due to all the strange things she did like dropping the bridge and calling everyone to the virtual world in the first place. Also Shirogane saw her.

The thing is, the characters themselves also say Miu probably would’ve gotten away with her plan. Some of her behavior looked sketchy, sure, but if she had actually managed to kill Ouma, she would’ve had as much time as she needed to carry out her plan, hide or destroy evidence, etc. There wouldn’t have been anything left to definitively pin on her, even if she did look a bit suspicious—and Momota still would’ve looked even more suspicious by virtue of having been logged out first and not even noticing that Ouma was dead for probably hours on end, since he left to go take a nap in the dorms.

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anonymous asked:

How young is too young to come out?

There is no answer for this because it varies case by case. I know people who never “came out,” because it was just assumed they were gay as a kid, but then again, there are those who come out as adults after marriages and children with the opposite sex. I have an uncle who is in his late 80′s and still has never ‘come out.’ I think most people come out in their 20′s. Personally, I was outed at 15 and came out fully at 16. But those are just numbers…

What is more important is this: You will come out when you are ready. Whether you are a teenager, a young adult, or someone in the later stages of life, you will make that call if/when you feel it is right. For some people, they know with no confusion or doubt, and it is just a matter of uttering those words to a world that can sometimes be less than welcoming. Other times, we have to experiment to discover what we like, which can be fluid and constantly changing. 

If you are at the stage where you think you are ready to come out, don’t worry about your age, just do what feels right. The most important thing is your safety and security, especially as a younger individual, but I encourage anyone who has the question of “am I old enough to come out?” in their heads to remember that there is no magic age, it is all about what works for you. 

If you’re ready to come out and can do so safely, by all means, break down that closet door. If not and you’re still trying to figure it all out, just keep learning and know there is a big group of rainbow clad strangers all over the world waiting to welcome you out when you do make that decision. 

Originally posted by pan-ace-multifandom-trash

Rant

Social media is so bad these days. Lesbians are getting famous for being a decent looking couples. Most don’t even use the people who look up to them and follow them to inspire more people. Like cmon guys why are you paying attention to people who don’t wanna make a difference or give good advice or help people. Spend your time obsessing over good decent people who wanna change the world. Don’t give them the time they did nothing to deserve.

anonymous asked:

honestly i love the concept of every dan in every universe sings for their arin at least once, even with alex and ryland. and even in the most bittersweet worlds with the worst things happening arin is still always entranced by it. (and dan probably always admires arin lol) idk i just love the idea of this

dan always sings for arin and arin always makes dan laugh no matter where or who they are they’re always destined to find each other :(

thethrillof  asked:

i just read through a ton of your eggman-related posts and Hell Yeah, so i hope you don't mind a random question--what are your headcanon/thoughts about him and chao?

I mean, something I’ll be honest about with regards to the Sonic series is that continuity can be, well… pretty shaky in the gameverse in terms of character psychology, so, what I’ve often seen is that fans of the games sort of pick their favorite reads and augment it off of other media they prefer. 

My read on Eggman is roughly an amalgam of his appearances in Sonic Colors, Unleashed, and Adventure 2, with some of the Archie Reboot thrown in.

I’ve never really been able to get behind overly vindictive nature-and-animal-hating Eggman, because I’ve always felt like Eggman and Sonic read as a very powerful order vs. chaos kind of divide. Of course Eggman is a reasonable person with standards for the most part, because ultimately, he wants to make the world a better place! He just thinks it’d be a better place if everyone listened to him and did things the exact way he wanted them to. 

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I’ve been learning that sometimes the steps that feel the most backwards are the very steps that challenge us to press onward. It’s in the hard and ordinary that we learn how to overcome, it’s in the unimpressive where we make the most impact, and it’s in the plain and simple that we learn to embrace real joy and make our own fun. It’s in the places we’d rather not go that God dares us to get creative and celebrate the stuff that so much of the world overlooks.

So, to you: if you’re feeling stuck, alone, discouraged, or unsure why things just aren’t working out like you thought, there’s more for you right here, where you are. The hard stuff is the holy stuff. You don’t have be in such a hurry to grow up, move on, or figure it out. Don’t be afraid of ordinary and be careful not to overlook the beauty of your backyard. Because real happiness isn’t something you capture, it’s something you uncap.

And “yourself” isn’t something to find, it’s something to become. And I truly believe with every fiber of my being that we life can be woven into something beautiful when we let the Artist do His thing with an zealous heart, willing soul, and eyes wide open.

Jordan Lee

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice for socializing. I can manage to meet people, but I never know how to interact with people so we can actually form a friendship

First things first- we as humans are social creatures. We seek out social interaction, even the most antisocial person in the world still needs the occasional stimulating conversation. Don’t stress about making friends, it’ll happen one way or another. The best friendships are created organically, but that said, there are some things you can do to quicken the process.

1. Friends by proximity. I’m assuming that you’re moving to England for a purpose, whether it be school or job related. Be social and inquisitive when meeting your new classmates or co-workers, and that openness will help you create fast friendships. Remember elementary school? Remember how easy it was to make friends then? You’ve got this.

2. Places. Hang out at places that you would normally hang out with your friends. Scope out cool bookstores and cozy coffeeshops, and be on the lookout for similar-minded people. Find reasons to talk to these strangers, whether that means asking them for directions, what they’re drinking, etc. The next time you run into them, you’ll be able to start up a conversation.

3. Events. One of the quickest ways to make lots of new friends is to join a group that meets weekly that does something that’s important to you. This could be anything from a book club, to a Dungeons and Dragons game, to volunteer work. Go to your local library and read the bulletin board looking for groups that interest you. You may have to get on the internet to find something close by. At the very least you’ll have a weekly social event to go to where you won’t feel out of place.

4. Neighborly. This next one depends on you, but if you have cool looking new neighbors introduce yourselves to them. Hit them up at random and say something casual like “I was going to go out for a drink, wanna join?” Planning things in advance puts pressure on acquaintances, so try to be spontaneous.

Lots of love! XX

Damn, College of Satire, Stone Sorcerer, and Oath of Treachery didn’t make it.

At least Drunken Master and Oath of Redemption made it in, and Celestial Warlock is a great way to build a most casting-heavy paladin without ruining the flavor, but I’m not happy about how much of this is reprinted from Sword Coast Adventure Guide. Or from a baby name site; why the fuck do you need a list of real world names in a D&D book, just Google “French/Indian/German names” or maybe learn about the world on your own

Also it looks like there’s ONLY the racial feats, which kinda sucks. Especially if you like playing the neglected monster folks.
Kinda Grotesque Patrick Hockstetter Headcanons

“annnyyyyyy patrick and henry headcanons that border on kinda fucked “

*pushes all the softcore sweetness off my desk and slams down the box of horrible things*

You have no idea.

I’m gonna give you some terrible thrills, my darling.

For obvious reasons, all the trigger warnings apply.

  • The way I portray Patrick’s view of the world, he thinks he’s the only one capable of making his own choices.
  • It’s like a roleplay game, you know?
  • He thinks the actions of everyone else have already been specifically designed and made just for his response, so he has no problem taking advantage of them and changing his own story.
  • Often, he just watches things without his own intervention, morbidly fascinated with watching the pre-planned story play out.
  • Patrick is obsessed with Henry. For some reason, Henry’s the most important character, and he can’t help but just /obsess/.
  • He scares off Belch first, Belch is too much of a baby to stick around and handle this stuff on his own.
  • Vic’s harder. He slowly tears apart their relationship.
  • So at this time, Vic still looks kind of girlish. All his weight goes to his thighs and makes him look like a 1940s sweetheart. His hair’s brown.
  • After Henry admits that he’s really attracted to curvy brunettes, Patrick tells Vic that Henry only likes skinny blondes.
  • You all know how it goes, I use it every time, Vic develops an eating disorder and bleaches his hair in hope of winning over Henry.
  • Soon, Henry and Vic aren’t close anymore, and Patrick is Henry’s second in command.
  • Vic tries to repair the friendship, he gathers up his money and buys Henry this jacket he’s had his eye on. It’s pink and it has this fucking eagle on it, but Henry always liked it, so he gets it.
  • Patrick finds out.
  • Patrick takes Vic to the junkyard and opens up th


















  • Henry hasn’t been able to find Vic. When he realises his friend disappeared like the other kids in Derry, he breaks down and cries.
  • Patrick shows up, and he smiles this sickly smile and has this pink jacket in his hands.
  • “Hey. I got you something to cheer you up a little.”
  • And Henry doesn’t know how Patrick knew, but he’s grateful and let’s Patrick slide it on him.
  • He thanks Patrick and tells him he’s a really good friend.
  • Patrick hugs him and promises he won’t ever let go.
  • the end.

Awareness changes the world, because awareness changes your mind. When you change your mind, how you experience the world changes with it. Awareness makes you powerful. Awareness is power. The greater your awareness; the greater your power. Developing awareness is a practice of deep and active sensing, perceiving, feeling, and most importantly, connecting. And when connecting, it is also important to connect with emptiness. An expanded mind does not mean full to the brim; open spaces are beautiful too. Just as pure silence is more than observation, as it informs from non-observation, greater awareness is not exclusively about observing. Awareness is more than a form of observation, it is also a magical absence of form, which opens the space for that which is unknown to arrive. Life is speaking to you, through the portal of your awareness. Each step toward greater awareness, unlocks gifts and freedoms, which can only be granted from within. Most of what we miss out on in life, is simply because we do not notice. Allow new awareness to bring you the gifts for-which your soul has restlessly been longing. Allow awareness to complete you.


— Bryant McGill

wiseinnerwhispers  asked:

Okay but... can you imagine how sick Peter would be if he ate a bunch of left over Halloween candy thinking it'd be fine in the morning cause of his metabolism but then Tony called and he had to swing around the city for a while? He'd probably manage to keep it down until he got to the tower and then he'd dizzily stumble towards the bathroom but end up loosing it in the hallway on Tony's shoes since Tony was concerned about him and grabbed Peter's shoulder to spin him around or something...

Thank you so much for this!  It’s possibly the most excellent prompt ever!  And you @wiseinnerwhispers, you make the world go ‘round with all the support and love you give.  

So here you go.  I think I messed up the details a little bit, and I don’t even want to talk about the timeline.  But this does take place right after my last Spiderman fic, No sympathy.

___

Peter wakes and immediately looks at the clock.  It’s 6:59. His alarm will be blaring in a minute. He blearily reaches out to turn of the device before it can start beeping at him.  May’s given him permission to miss school if he still feels as sick as he did yesterday, but as Peter lifts his head, there’s no echoing throb. It’s a relief.

He slides out of bed and heads to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, stepping a little harder than he normally would just to test his luck.  The resultant vibrations die out around his shins and leave his head alone, and the taste of toothpaste doesn’t turn his stomach, so Peter decides he’s ok.  

He kicks it into high gear and goes back to his bedroom to dress and pack up his backpack.  Peter grabs his suit from the back of his desk chair where he’d thrown it last night, shakes it, and gives it an experimental sniff. It’s a little sweaty, but the god-awful scent of homeless man’s pot smoke has dissipated.  He wads up the spandex fabric and tucks it into the bottom of his backpack.  

Peter barrels through the kitchen, almost knocking Aunt May’s orange juice to the floor as he throws pop tarts into the toaster and looks for something to toss in his bag for lunch.

“Feeling better this morning?” May asks, looking up from the newspaper.  

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says, still scanning the pantry.  “I don’t know what hit me, but I’m fine now.”  He spies a half-finished bag of candy corn and a handful of fun-size Milky Ways, and Peter sweeps them into his backpack.

“Maybe just had to clear your system,” May suggests.  Then, “Are you taking all my candy?”

“Um.”  Peter hastens to put a few of the chocolates back.

“No, go ahead,” May says, smiling to show she was joking the first time.  “You didn’t really get to celebrate last night.”

“But, I mean, I could leave some.”

“Take it.  Or I will eat it all, and I can’t afford new jeans,” May jokes.  “I’d give a lot to have that teenaged boy metabolism.”

“Hm,” Peter muses, feeling a little guilty that his growing hunger lately has forced an increase in the grocery budget.  He forgoes dropping cheese crackers into his backpack as well.

The toaster spits out the pop tarts, and Peter takes one in each hand, clamped between his thumbs and index fingers so the steaming pastries won’t burn him.  “See ya, May,” Peter calls, transferring one pop tart to his mouth as he lets himself out the front door.

“See ya,” May echoes.

Peter wolfs down his breakfast as he dashes to school.  He hadn’t realized the hunger gnawing at the corners of his stomach, but now that he thinks about it, he didn’t have much of a dinner last night, and most of it ended up splatted on a street corner and in the toilet.  It makes the pop tarts taste extra good, like the food of the gods. Which, who knows? Maybe they are.

His morning classes pass quickly, and Peter does his best to focus on algebra and chemistry and history even though his mind is on other things.  He didn’t do that great of a job of patrolling the neighborhood last night, and he forgot to call Mr. Stark and leave a message.  A mission report.  If Mr. Stark asks about it, he’ll just tell the truth and say he was sick, which is perfectly valid reason for an excused absence.  But it still doesn’t seem like a great track record for a superhero.

During lunch, Peter hides out in the band room with Ned to work on the Lego death- star-in-progress. Ned has a treasure trove of Halloween booty to share, somehow including the diamonds of watermelon sour patch kids and multiple full-size chocolate bars.  Peter adds his candy corn and milky ways to the pile and chows down, ruefully wishing he’d made buttered toast for breakfast.  Or at least something a little less sugary.  It only takes a few pieces of candy to sear his tongue with sweetness and make his teeth feel grimy.  But Peter’s hungry, and with his current rate of calorie burn, it’ll only take a few rounds of the block in his Spiderman suit to burn it all off.

The bell is ringing to signal the end of the lunch period, and Peter’s phone is vibrating up a storm in his pocket.  Pretending he’s on his way to class, he ducks into the bathroom to check the messages.

Mr. Stark: There’s a thing.  Can you assist?

 

Mr. Stark:  Oh, you’re at school.  Nevermind.

 

Mr. Stark:  But really, can you assist?

 

Mr. Stark:  Happy’s on a Starbucks run.  Please provide own transportation.

Peter hastens to compose a reply.

 

Peter: Yeah! Of course!  I don’t have any tests today.

He considers deleting the exclamation points.  Decides against it.  Oh well.

Peter: To the tower, right?  What do you need help with?

 

Mr. Stark: Yes. Excuse the boxes.  We’re packing for the move.

 

Mr. Stark:  How’s your knowledge of local gang hangouts?

 

Peter: Not fantastic?

 

Mr. Stark:  Hm. Ok.  Scans are showing up weird weapons tech.  Figured if it’s HYDRA, I’ll handle it.  But if it’s just bullies, you can give it a try first.  I also need you to model.

 

Peter:  Always happy to slam some bullies.  Model what?

 

Mr. Stark:  Your suit. Duh.  I’m working on a new micro armor layer, and I need you to put it on and tell me if it hurts when I hit you.

 

Peter:  Ok…

 

Mr. Stark:  Don’t just stand there like a dumb kid on your phone.  Get your ass down here.

 

Mr. Stark: I’m not swearing at you.

 

Peter wonders if he’s supposed to reply, but he just throws his phone into his backpack and exits the bathroom.  He glances up and down the hall a few times to make sure there aren’t any teachers watching, then he dashes for the door.  

Peter dumps his backpack in the alley and quickly pulls on his Spiderman suit.  Since he doesn’t have any cash for a cab and his metro card’s down to a few cents, webbing himself across the city seems like the best option.  He supposes he could park somewhere and wait for Happy to finish up whatever he’s doing, but what fun is that?  Peter usually gets a kick out of swinging around.  Plus, he doesn’t get the impression Happy likes him that much.

Once he’s situated, Peter scales the brick wall and sprints across the building’s flat roof.  He shoots a web onto the corner of the building diagonally across the street and jumps, letting his feet skim the roofs of a few taxis on his way over the intersection.  

With this quick method of transport, it’ll still take Peter a good ten or fifteen minutes to get to the tower.  He’s less than halfway through the journey when his stomach starts sloshing. Honestly, it’s not that unexpected what with all the junk he just ate and fact that he was sick yesterday.  But it’s annoying as anything.

Eight blocks from the tower, Peter’s head starts is aching.  Not in the nice, polite, excuse-me-I-think-I’m-starting-to-get-a-headache way, but more in the please-stop-I’m-hella-dizzy way.  The way that demands a change in activity or dire consequences.  

Peter jumps onto a rooftop and sidesteps a skylight, doubling over with his hands on his knees so he can catch his breath.  He’s fine. He tells himself he is five or six times and swallows a sweet, chocolaty burp, then leaps back into free fall before he can second guess himself.  Once he shoots a web and starts to swing, though, the disgusting flip of his stomach starts up again in the worst combination of overindulgence and motion sickness ever.  Peter’s fucked and he knows it.  He imagines he feels worse than Steve Rogers did in that infamous story of Cap and the cotton candy and the Cyclone on Coney Island.

He’s swallowing hard against rising gunk in his throat when he swings onto the block dominated by the Avengers Tower and, as it has been for the past few weeks, about a thousand U-Haul trucks.  Peter doesn’t want to let his feet hit the ground for fear that his body will take it as a cue to turn itself inside out, so he webs himself to the balcony on the 21st floor, the one where he knows Tony’s lab is located.  The sliding glass door is open slightly, and Peter shoves through it.  He pulls his mask up over his nose and mouth, intent only on getting to the bathroom before the inevitable happens.

“Hey, where are you going?”

For once in his life, Peter ignores Mr. Stark’s question and keeps hustling, though his pace is slowing significantly as the motion sends his stomach into frantic convulsions. He’s sweating all over.  He can’t feel his face.  He can’t feel his feet.

“Yo, kid.”  A hand comes down on his shoulder and forcibly spins him around.  “I’m talking to you, you know?”

“Ohshit—” Peter manages to choke out before everything’s coming up, running through the fingers of the gloved hand he’s pressed to his mouth a moment too late. He can’t suppress the next spastic retch, and a heavy splash of minimally digested candy and pop tarts hits the floor, soiling his red boots and Mr. Stark’s black Converse.

“What the fuck?”  Tony leaps backward, then seems to think better of his actions and comes up behind Peter to place a tentative hand on his shoulder and keep him from collapsing on his shaky knees as his stomach continues to evacuate.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter chokes out as soon as he can take a breath.  “I didn’t mean—”  He cuts off with another gag.  “Sorry.”

“Um.  It’s ok,” Tony says, sounding like he’s out of his depth, fishing for the right words.  “I’ll…call May to pick you up?”

“No, I…I can’t,” Peter breathes, scraping mucous and melted chocolate off his tongue with his teeth. It seems rude to spit onto the floor, but there aren’t a lot of better options.  

“Yeah, right, you’re supposed to be at school…” Tony reminds himself.  “Well, I have 23 guest rooms in this place, so I guess it won’t be any trouble if you want to lie down for a minute.”  

Peter tries to say thank you, but the words turn into a wet burp he struggles to keep from turning into a heave.  “OhmygodI’msorry,” he exhales.

“You’re…gross,” Tony says. “But, come on.”  He uses the hand on Peter’s shoulder to steer him down the hall. “Good thing I haven’t packed the puke-cleaning robots yet.”

anonymous asked:

Your opinion on Clary?

Okay, so like most people I don’t really care for Clary but some of y’all need to cut her some slack. She’s literally been thrown into a world she didn’t know existed, she has to deal with abilities she probably never dreamed of having and mind you her mother was basically ripped away from her and her father who she thought dead is a lunatic, of course she’s going to rush into things and not think it through, when you’re in that moment you don’t think it through you make a decision because you have to. Though she’s a little hot head and reckless she’s usually just trying to do what she think is the right thing. 

Clary is a flawed character but isn’t everyone 

supergiant is the best developer in the fucking world

like a good developer consistently puts out good games

supergiant made an arpg that became one of the most well recognized indie games of its time, and was pretty great in its own right

and then they did something nobody had ever done before with transistor and nailed it perfectly on the first try

and they did something nobody would ever have even thought to try and got it perfect on the first try again