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Bad Boy
  • *Molly's flat*
  • Molly: *nursing a cut above Sherlock's eye* I can't believe she actually punched you.
  • Sherlock: *winced* People don't like it when their affair is exposed to their entire family, even if the murderer was caught. Lesson learned.
  • Molly: *smirks* You were showing off.
  • Sherlock: A bit.
  • Molly: *smoothes his hair aside* There. Good as new. Try not to entice anymore guilty widows to punch you, yeah?
  • Sherlock: *smiles* It's me, Molly.
  • Molly: *chuckles* Still... *ruffles his hair; thoughtful* looks hot, though. I always did like a bad boy *giggles; leaves*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *raises an eyebrow*
  • *Molly's flat*
  • Molly: *reading on her sofa*
  • -knocking-
  • Molly: *opens the door*
  • Sherlock: *gently prodding his black eye; wincing* Didn't work...
  • Molly: *arms folded* Another widow.
  • Sherlock: An old lady. Someone tried to mug her *shrugs* I stepped in.
  • Molly: *bites her lip* Oh...
  • Sherlock: *gestures* May I...
  • Molly: *shakes her head* Sorry, yes. Right *pulls him inside* err, sit down. I-I'll just... *hurries to the bathroom*
  • Sherlock: *smirks*

American Honey forcibly rubs and shoves against the boundaries of cinema until it spills out into its own paths, down which it can impulsively wander and explore. It pushes the medium forward, but it also attempts to bridge the gaps in political cinema that few filmmakers can even discern. These changing times demand more directors like Arnold, who is doing something much more intricate than delivering messages or holding up a mirror to reflect the world as it appears. Arnold captures the desolation of the milieus her characters inhabit, but she refuses to withhold hope or beauty for the sake of starkness, or to ignore her poetic instincts in the name of sheer authenticity. Watching Star stumble and soar throughout American Honey, one can envision what political filmmaking might continue to become in the next few years: less a mirror than a window, opening outward onto an alternative view of the world, in which reality and imagination are not alienated, but allied.”

Read “Political Moviemaking in Hopeless Places: On American Honey by Matthew Eng


Video Game Meme: [1/9] Characters → Bloody Mary

“And do you know why they call me that? Because some of them, they think it´s funny to have their little sleepovers and go into their little bathrooms and say my name five times in the mirror. They find it less funny when I actually show up and feed their lungs to the family dog.”

12x20 - Holy Narrative Mirrors Batman!

In the middle of taking ages to write another hand meta (yes I’m back to that guys) this episode aired and therefore I am here to bring you my review of 12x20 and all the emotions that brought to the table.

Firstly, important things to address: I am PISSED that two POC women were killed this episode. I don’t really care that Alesha was brought back as a Twig puppet monster (my nickname for those creatures) because it was still two violent POC deaths shown on screen. Must we really keep seeing this on this show? After Billy? I know that SPN needs to keep its death count high and I would NOT want them to kill off Max when he is our only canon recurring queer character on the show atm either (not including Dean still hidden away in Narnia) but I’m still pissed off about it. I also didn’t like the fact that they showed the old witch’s immediate dislike of Tasha being a racist thing either. Yes I know she’s an evil witch but really spn? Racism and then have that same racist old hag KILL the poc lady? Nice going.

Anyway, that is my rant on that. So ya’ll know it pissed me off. This is a just fandom blog and I wanna keep it positive bearing in mind I actually loved this episode but it needed to be addressed.

I did love this episode, even if I am getting a meta headache over all the narrative mirrors they showed us and went to extensive lengths to portray. I feel I need to outline them all clearly so without further rambling here they are:

Max is Dean and Alesha is Sam

This one is pretty obvious. They went to great lengths to show this including adding a blast from the far past in the ‘THEN’ section by showing us the Pilot episodes baby dean (how high and young his voice was!) saying the classic phrase “Dad’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days”. To say that the Banes’ story then mirrors the first two seasons of the show would be highly accurate.

Max is shown to be the loud, flirtatious, overly confident sibling with his boisterous attitude and charisma. Unlike Dean however he is ‘out and proud’… Oh Dean… please find your way out of Narnia this season.

Alesha is the sibling who rolls her eyes over her brothers antics, and feels more like an outsider in the family, based on this conversation with Sam:

“He always thinks he knows mum better, because they’re both natural witches, it’s who they are”

“When I was growing up Dean and my dad had the same thing with hunting, that bond”.

This pretty much drums the mirror home, but later we are shown just how similar Dean and Max are by how Max takes the deal and brings his sister back (though perhaps not quite in the same way) and sells his soul for her, because like Dean, he is unable to go on without his sibling.

This is the main narrative mirror in place, with the siblings shown to be kinda co-dependent and willing to sacrifice for each other. It also really helps our bi!dean reading that he is yet again being mirrored with a queer man. Yay for Steve Yokey really pushing that parallel.

more under the cut…

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The thought of Jacob or Miss Peregrine teaching the Peculiar Children to drive is giving me life😂😂😂😂😆


Hugh: Cool as a fucking cucumber until the first bee hits the windshield, and then it’s head out the window, yelling at bees to get out of the way, while swerving all over the road. Jacob ended the lesson by grabbing the wheel and yelling, “We survived too much to be brought down by the mascot of Cheerios, Hugh!”

Bronwyn: Tried to be gentle until she got a little too excited when on a hill and slammed her foot through the brake to the road. Jacob immediately threw up upon stopping.

Horace: The very thought of speeding down the road surrounded by other drivers, and the variables they bring, spikes his anxiety too much. He wouldn’t set foot in a car after the short first lesson he had.

Fiona: Best driver of the family. Totally collected. She doesn’t like to drive too much though, she believes in creating as little pollution as possible.

Claire: This angry little bean was already pissed because she had to wait years to be able to drive. Now she drives constantly, and is always trying to race the other children. Miss Peregrine thinks she may have an adrenaline addiction, surprisingly.

Enoch: Took off speeding before Jacob could get in the car, did a perfect figure 8, then did it again backwards, and ended with a beautifully executed drift-stop. That was their last lesson, though as a joke, Jacob bought Enoch a ridiculous pair of red driving gloves for Christmas.

Olive: Her shoes had to be removed, so Miss Peregrine taught her, ready at any moment to change into a bird to bring Olive back down to Earth. In the end they settled on ankle weights and a tight seatbelt.

Emma: After dealing with Jacob’s overprotective lists of precautions which included checking the tire pressure and her mirrors no less than twenty times, she drove a little too fast, a little too rough, and a little too reckless for Jacob. After a while of Jacob’s comments of ‘Slow down, Emma!“ The steering wheel began melting and they had to stop. Once Miss Peregrine took over the lesson, things went better. Emma still couldn’t put gasoline in the car, though, for obvious reasons.

Millard: He could only drive at night so his invisibility would not be as big of an issue. However, the issue came in the form of Millard’s endless knowledge of cars and their history, which he had studied in the weeks before his first lesson. Jacob almost jumped out of the car at one point when Millard started in on the topic of “headlights, and how they lit the way for motor vehicles”. Millard was offended at the lack of enthusiasm he was feeling from the passenger seat.

Hey I found this self-portrait from like, eons ago, saved in my drafts and it’s like 130 am so here you go.

My name is Sneks and I’m a pan girl who doesn’t take care of her hair but always has eyeliner on and last halloween I was drunk and someone tore out my nose ring by accident and I love Pickles the drummer heyoo.

When the word ‘selfie’ became an actual word, my grandpa had me explain to him what it meant. When I finished, he found this picture and asked “is this a selfie?” I told him it was and he simply said “I was taking selfies before it was cool.”
So here’s my grandpa taking a selfie in his Coast Guard uniform. (Circa 1959)
Can we make my grandpa internet famous? I’d love to explain to him what Tumblr is. ;P


Originally posted by koraenpop


The dorm is silent around you, the usual sounds of thirteen boys missing as you sit with your back against the armrest of the couch. The one boy who was home is nearly asleep with his head resting in your lap as a movie neither of you were paying attention to plays in the background. His eyelids are heavy as he tries to stay awake, just to spend some time with you, and you can’t help but grin at the sight.

“I think the stylist missed a spot,” you hum as you run your fingers through Jeonghan’s freshly-dyed inky black hair. This wakes him up and sends his hand flying to the ends of his hair. You giggle at the motion and shake your head.

When your fingers guide his own to the uneven section, he touches the strands before he laces his fingers with your own. “She’ll have to fix it tomorrow,” he sighs. “You just had to tell me. Now I won’t be able to see anything else in the mirror until it’s fixed,” he pouts as he shifts to glance up at you.

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im trying to catch up with the Youth and practice selfies, this was the best I could do

there was a point in my life where i knew that i only liked women and i couldn’t even say “i’m a lesbian” to myself when i knew i was alone. i couldn’t make eye contact with myself in the mirror, much less admit it to anyone else, because i was afraid to. if you want to label yourself as a lesbian but are scared to, i hope one day you can find comfort in this label like i have. it can be a slow and agonizing process sometimes but i want you to know that there is nothing gross about loving women and wanting to prioritize women and i’m rooting for you

The Final Snowball - Mileven Fanfic

“And I think this one would go perfectly with your skin tone,” Nancy gushed. She was applying the finishing touches on El’s make up, wanting her to look nothing but perfect for this special occasion.

Earlier that day, Nancy and El had gone dress shopping. Formal dress shopping that is, as El had been asked by Nancy’s own little brother to the annual ‘Snow Ball.’

“Aaaaand, I think we’re done,” Nancy announced. El was curious as to what Nancy had really done, as all she could feel through out the process were pokey sticks and bristles that tickled her skin.

El reached her hands up to touch her face, but before she could make contact, Nancy lightly slapped her hands away.

“We don’t wanna ruin it, now do we?” Nancy chided good naturedly, moving herself off the bed to stand in front of El.

“You ready to see?” Nancy asked the quiet, telekinetic tween. El simply nodded, nervously awaiting the outcome.

Reaching forward, Nancy grabbed El’s hand, pulling her to the other side of the room where a full length mirror perched itself in the corner.

Stopping before it, Nancy turned to flash an encouraging smile at El before moving out of her visual field, allowing El’s figure to be fully on display in the mirror.

It took less than one second for El to gasp and a large grin to start spreading across her face.

She - she loved it. Everything.

El was gobsmacked. Was this really her?

She was so used to wearing simple jeans and t-shirts, the occasional summer dress or skirt when the weather called for it. But never something this elaborate.

Never this.

“You look gorgeous, El,” Nancy smiled sincerely. And it was the truth.

The A-line tea dress moulded to her form perfectly, the beautiful light pink colour doing wonders for her skin. El looked radiant. The light make up Nancy had done made El’s eyes appear all the more doe-like and wonderous, with her new, soft curls framing her already flawless face.

Nancy had to hold back a gasp too. She was truly in awe of her younger companion.

“Th-thank you, Nancy,” El remarked, her eyes flickering to Nancy, still shocked.

“You don’t have to thank me, El. Mike does, but you don’t,” Nancy smirked, knowing full well her brother was going to absolutely flip when he saw his 'date.’

That last remark left El slightly confused, but she let the comment fly over her head, instead returning her focus to admiring her sudden transformation.

“You ready to go down? I think everyone’s waiting,” Nancy acknowledged, gaining El’s attention. Taking a deep breath, El nodded, stepping away from the mirror and making her way towards the bedroom door.


Mike was pacing the foyer nervously. He’d been pacing the last fifteen minutes.

“Honey, it’s gonna be fine,” Karen sounded from the dining room where she’d seated herself at the table, a book in hand. She wanted to look casual, but really, she was just waiting to take photos of Mike and El.

“I know, but, just - what if something goes wrong? Like it starts raining? Then the roads will close and we can’t get to the school. Or what if I fall over walking into the gym? I could tear my suit or get it dirty, and I can’t go in if my suit gets all dirty. And I mean what if-” Mike’s anxious rambling was abruptly cut off.

“Mike, calm down. Everything is going to be fine. You and El will have a great time with your friends and nothing will go wrong, you’re worrying about nothing,” Karen chided her son, almost laughing at how ridiculous he sounded.

“I’m serious, Mom! What if someone gets hurt? Dad could sprain his ankle getting into the car and then we wouldn’t-” Mike’s next words got lost in his throat.

Karen had returned to her novel, allowing her son’s silly, human bickering to lull over her as she heard him stop altogether.

Turning her head, she faced her son, only to find him in fact not looking at her, but rather the staircase. Specifically, what (well, who) was coming down the staircase.

Mike’s eyes had increased to the size of saucers.

She was breath taking.

As elegant as a queen and delicate as a butterfly, El slowly descended the stairs, fully aware of all the attention directed at her. Her cheeks flushed a searing scarlet, which didn’t go unnoticed by Karen.

Mike however was in a trance, following her every movement. She moved so gracefully.

He was speechless.

Coming to the last step, El reached to touch her foot down. But Mike beat her to it and rushed to her side, gently grabbing her hand and guiding her to the ground.

“Th-thank you,” El whispered, her eyes never once leaving his. She’d been just as fixated on Mike’s form, never once wavering her gaze from his handsome physique. He was dressed in a sleek, black tuxedo, bow tie and everything.

She loved it.

“El,” Mike began, the words vaguely coming to the fore front of his mind.

El smiled encouragingly, her gaze almost rendering him speechless.

“Y-you look..beautiful,” he gushed, eyes remaining in tact with hers. El’s already deep blush turned a shade darker, if that was even possible.

“You do too,” she replied. Mike chuckled, causing El to giggle. It was endearing.

They were so transfixed by each other, they were completely taken aback when a bright, white light flashed before them.

“Don’t you two look adorable,” Karen cooed, raising the camera again. Not only was his mum there, but Ted and Nancy had migrated to the foyer so they could also watch the adorable exchange.

Mike raised his arm to the back of his neck awkwardly.

Twenty minutes later, Ted was pushing them out the door, away from a snap-happy Karen.


“I’ll pick you kids up at ten, okay?” Ted rhetorically asked, before starting the car and driving off, leaving El and Mike to wander towards the gym, hand in hand, in search of their friends.

Dustin, Will, Max and Lucas were all awaiting their company as they approached the gymnasium.

Lucas was the first one to notice the pair.

“About time!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in good natured teasing.

“We’ve been waiting for ages,” Dustin said, pulling up his sleeve to look at his watch. In reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

“Sorry, my mum wanted to take a lot of pictures,” Mike explained, sending a knowing glance down at El.

El smiled back before admiring all of her friends. They looked amazing!

All the boys were each dressed in a tux, Lucas in black, Dustin in dark blue and Will in dashing white. They all looked very handsome, indeed.

Max donned a gorgeous knee-length, dark purple, spaghetti strap dress. It was funny seeing Max so dressed up when she usually wore more boyish clothes, but she looked beautiful none-the-less.

“Y-you guys look great,” El piped up, giving each of her friends a radiant grin.

“So do you!” Was the chorus of replies.

“Well, now that we’re all here, shall we?” Max inquired, dramatically motioning towards the double doors.



“Let’s go!”

Were all yelled before everyone piled into the gym. But just before El made her way in, she couldn’t help but notice a group of girls from out of the corner of her eye.

Mike noticed El’s immediate stop and, making sure all his friends had gone in, came back to stand beside her.

“El? Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned as to why she had so suddenly stopped.

Nodding, El fixed her gaze on the floor and tried to gently push past Mike into the gym. But Mike could tell something was wrong.

Gently grabbing her hand, he asked her what was wrong. She just shook her head.

“You can tell me anything, El,” he encouraged, attempting to meet her gaze.

She only sighed and looked up at Mike before turning to glance at the group of girls huddling a few metres over. Specifically, the group of blonde girls that were huddling a few metres over.

El looked at them, with their long, shining blonde hair, perfect figures and flawless looks. They were gorgeous. Perfect. No other words could describe them.

It was their hair especially. It flowed so naturally and elegantly down their backs. It was beautiful.

Absentmindedly, El had reached up to touch her own hair, pulling softly at the short, seemingly dull strands piled on her head.

Mike put the pieces together and realised what was wrong.

Gently placing one hand on El’s waist, he moved her so that she was facing him, meeting his eye. With his other hand, he grasped her hand that was still clinging to the locks of brown, bringing it back down to her side. He kept a secure hold on it.

“El, you are so much more beautiful than them. I mean, look at you. I’m so lucky to be going to a dance with a girl as gorgeous as you. You’re stunning, inside and out, and you don’t need long hair or anything for people to see that,” Mike encouraged, looking only into her eyes, trying to convey what he really felt. And that is what he felt. What he knew.

She was beautiful, and he’d be damned if she couldn’t see that.

Looking into his eyes intently, she managed to murmur a few words. Words Mike hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Still pretty?” She questioned, gazing into his own, chocolate orbs. Mike already knew the answer, no doubt in his mind.

Mike shook his head.

“No,” he responded softly. El’s face fell and she looked incredibly hurt. Mike could see that, so he gently tipped her crest-fallen head and locked their eyes.

“You’re the most beautiful of them all.”

El’s smile grew until it almost split her stunning face in half.

Gazing up at Mike, in that moment, El knew.

She couldn’t go a day without this boy.

AU proposition: Vader joins Ahsoka on Malachor

I’ve always been taken by something our good Saint Fialleril said, that on Malachor, the conflict Filoni gave us was Mustafar 2.0, when it should have been Bespin 0.5. I’m paraphrasing.

Anyway, just imagine. It’s Vader who isn’t quite resigned to his fate. It’s Vader who might still think that he’s doing all this for the Greater Good. It’s Vader who’s realizing (or realized) that Palpatine is never going to make them equals, and that he’s forever going to be the go-for for an old man.

It’s Vader who is confronted with Maul, who is the living embodiment of how Palpatine throws his Padawans away.

It’s Vader who sees Ahsoka–his sister/daughter figure–who did what he should have and left the Order. The only family in the Galaxy he has left. The only other person he’s willing to kill and die for. The only person who is a true grey Jedi, who uses the core of the Jedi teaching and who shed the chaffing chaf of emotional restrictions. Who has learned how to love healthily (idk I enjoyed the Ahsoka book).

The only person who still sees good in him–in Anakin.

I think it would take some convincing, but I think Ahsoka would take the time to do it. I think she would stand with him on top of the Sith temple and say “please come with me. We can figure it out. Please.”

And Vader would go with her, because Anakin is still a softie who really fucking needs a hug and real medical attention.

So there they all are, a la @darthnickels Black Mirror, if a little less terrifying and a little more awkward, and Vader says to Ezra “Give me that Holocron” and Ezra’s like “what the fuck ever man, it’s yours I can’t fuckin use it” and hands it over because it’s in Sith and no one speaks that. It takes him a long time because holocrons aren’t small but for once Darth Hideous isn’t around to show him what excerpts to read and he’s in charge of his own education.

So he has time to gather some of his possessions and get some initial reconstructive surgeries (Ahsoka sits through them with him. He doesn’t like anasthetic.).

And he listens to the holocron.

And a la @flaminganakin, he learns what Palpatine did to keep him alive on Mustafar. About what he did to Padme.

And of course he fucking flips because having someone kill your wife to save your self-loathing ass is never fun.

So that happens, and then he’s like “Dude I need some spiritual healing from the Grandmothers” (because Fialleril’s head cannons are basically the fanon bible at this point) so he goes to Tatooine, and he’s wandering around, caught up in memories and shit, and literally bumps into this scrawny blond kid who’s carrying too many mech parts, and theyre talking and the kid is all “Hiya my name is Luke Skywalker” and Anakin’s heart skips a beat but he’s like nah, it’s just a coincidence and then hey his uncle is here too and what do you know it’s Owen Lars.


But Beru is there too on this family fucking outing to the city, and she insists on inviting him to their home because last time they met it was a fucking shitshow. And then… well, “I’m Anakin Skywalker. I believe I may be your father.”

So then Anakin goes on a trek to find Obi-Wan, hiding in the sand wastes like a God damn gopher. Anakin can’t punch him because his fists are deadly weapons so he headbutts him into submission.


Turns out the best custom prosthetic maker lives in Alderaan. And Bail has a fucking heart attack when Obi-Wan shows up and is all… hi could we talk for a bit??

And they decide to try to hide the whole thing from Leia but she’s an established spy by now (I guess??? Filoni I’m going to ignore you unless you are convenient for plot purposes I guess??)) And she figures it out/overhears, so she’s pissed and finds Anakin and is all,
“Hello. My name is Leia Organa. I am your daughter” and Anakin just fucking passes out because!!!!! Two???!!!!

This just bypasses so many things. Destruction of Alderaan. Vader failing to connect with his children because he’s too caught up with hating himself for killing their mother. Still has the worst case of Survivors guilt on the face of the Galaxy. Still is a medical nightmare that is sewn back into human functionality via dozens of surgeries. Still doesn’t really feel guilty for destroying the Order. (Because, let’s face it, they were gonna fall whether he helped or not.) I just like it.