one her past and the other her future

A Comment on Padparadscha

Originally posted by fishbelliez

On one hand, I really enjoy all the internet explorer memes about her because she’s precious and hilarious.

On the other hand, I feel like y’alls is really missing out on the potential here. 

Para doesn’t have future vision, she has hindsight, and from the looks of it, it takes an active effort for her to try to stay even a minute behind the present.

Garnet herself has stated that the difficulty with future vision is that there are an endless number of ways that the fates can go, and it’s a matter of probabilities to try to determine which one it’ll be. 

It’s not really the same with the past. The past has happened, events are set (especially given that this show’s version of ‘time travel’ is actually just jumping and/or creating timeline branches rather than traveling within the same stream). 

So what am I getting at?

Para may be more powerful than we’re giving credit for. With a clear view of the past, unconflicted by the branching probabilities of the future, how far back do you think she could see if she wasn’t trying so hard to stay in the present?

Who’s to say that Para isn’t exactly what the team needs? Especially with all the questions right now, where everybody is questioning what really happened 6000 years ago?

An Aquarius looked at me, and smiled. She places a hand on my cheek and said, “I’ve watched people come and go out of my life, and here I am hoping you’d be different..”

An Aries looked at me, she slowly inched herself closer to me. Planted a kiss on my lips and said, “I hate you’re so damn emotional. I hate you for reading me like a book, but my god, you make me so damn vulnerable.”

A Cancer looked at me and smiled. She slowly sat up and placed herself ontop of me, looking down at me. She grabbed both of my hands and squeezed it softly and said, “You’re the one. I can feel it, and I’m serious…”

A Capricorn placed her cigarette back in the ashtray and looked at me, she slowly grabbed my arm and wrapped it around her and scooted herself closer and smiled at me and said, “I would never want you to let go of me.. Got it?”

A Gemini rubbed her butt on my crotch. A smile on her face. She turned around and asked for a kiss, then suddenly she pushed after it got heated and said, “Promise me, you’ll only look at me. Even when I’m distant, come and find me.”

A Leo looked at me and gaze into my eyes and said, “You’re always listening to me talk about myself. How about you start tonight because I’ve been dying to know about your day. Let’s start about our secrets. I’ll go first. I hate being a Leo..” She laughed at how silly the secret was and she kissed me and said she was just playing, and was going to tell me a real secret. We laid and talked, and we opened up a new level in our relationship. Trust.

A Libra came crawling to me and placed herself between my legs, she falls over and rests her head on my chest and smiled at me. We stayed like this for minutes and we talked about her work and how her day was, and did nothing but talked the whole night.

A Pisces laughed and slowly sat up, she sat ontop of me and grabbed my hands and kissed them softly. She smiled down at me, squeezing my hands in hers. Suddenly tears rolled down her cheek, but she laughed softly and said, “I don’t know what to feel around you, but they’re good. They’re good feelings and you.. you bring out the best in me.”

A Sagittarius rubbed my back as we laid in silence. Then suddenly she lets out a sigh and played with my hair and said, “I don’t know what to do with you. You make me think too much, and I can’t stop. You make me crazy, you stupid fool.” She laughed and continued to play with my hair.

A Scorpio turned to me one night and whispered enough for me to hear, “I love you. I know I don’t say it to you as much, and I know you. You need reassurance every day, and I’m sorry that I don’t know how to express myself like you want me to, but.. I love you, so very much. I just want you to know that you’re the best gift life has given me, and I appreciate you. I love you.” She then leaned down to kiss my cheek and then slowly punched my back playfully. “You asshole..” she giggles.

A Taurus rested her head on my chest as I played with her hair. Suddenly she began to talk about how we met, and how she saw me and fell in love with me completely. How she was eager to show me into her world and bring a part of me that no one has ever seen out. She laughed and slowly inched closer to kiss my chin, and continued on talking about us. The Past. The Present. And our future together.

A Virgo pulled away from my arms, a soft smile on her face. She looks at me and then settles back into my arms and we stared at each other for what seemed like hours. She kissed my nose and said, “You only get to feel this once. Different in forms, but this, this is only once in a lifetime and you better not let me go, you hear me?”

—  Pillow Talk

Not going to lie, I’m crazy happy to see Pauline in Super Mario Odyssey. I can’t believe she’s appearing in a main Super Mario title as a prominent NPC. That’s very cool! Can’t wait to see how she’s used and if we get any other cool cameos. 

I love that she’s mayor of New Donk City, and red suit is a nice touch. The fact that she’s a singer, and sings the theme song is just awesome and perfect. 

I only have one concern - she’s always been taller than Mario, but previously it appeared she was closer to Peach’s height or at least shorter than characters like Rosalina (although Pauline’s size has always been inconsistent), but this game slightly redesigns her to be less “cartoon-ish/stylised”. Making her somewhat semi-realistic like the other citizens of New Donk City (although her face and appearance are still more stylised than the other NPCs in her area). This worries me because it makes her proportions very different to other Mario franchise characters and I’m scared this means she’ll never appear past this game, in spin-offs or future titles (as Super Mario games rarely repeat locations as well) because she won’t fit stylistically. 

Although, I suppose Nintendo could always re-cartoon her/shrink her down at their own discretion (as lets be honest consistency is not always a big concern to them), to insert her into - oh I don’t know - a kart, a party, or whatever. 

However, even with this concern … I’m thrilled to see her, this is an awesome surprise and MAYBE it will be her last appearance for a long time again (I don’t know, I hope not), but if that’s the case its a pretty fantastic one!

Oh! Also the New Donk City purple currency has an image of the city on one side and a profile of Pauline on the other, which is sweet.


in which y/n is harry’s first love… 

She detached herself from his body, and rolled over to plug her phone into the charger next to their bed. 

“Hey!” Harry protested, making grabby hands toward her waist. “Come back. You’re so far away,” he whined.

“Calm down. I’m just plugging my phone in. Jesus,” she chuckled, setting her phone down and rolling back towards him. He quickly settled back down, tucking himself into her, always the little spoon. “You just want to rest your head on my boobs." 

He snuggled further into her, not denying the accusation, draping his arm around her waist and squeezing tightly, then kissed just above the swell of her breast that peeked out from his t-shirt that she was wearing. "I just really freaking love you." 

She hummed and kissed the top of his head.

"That’s a bit weird, innit?" 

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Is it?”

“Not the fact that I love you. Just the fact that I love another person." 

She mulled it over in her head before nodding in agreement. Loving someone who wasn’t in her family, in the fullest sense of the word, completely honest and open, the way they loved each other was a weird concept, but it was one that she was in love with. "Yeah, it’s a bit weird." 

He sighed out. "I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else." 

A dopey smile graced her face. "Am I your first love, Harry?" 

"I…” He had never thought about it like that. “Yeah. You are.” The truth made him press his body even closer to hers. He valued the physical intimacy just as much as the emotional intimacy. He cleared his throat before he asked the question that floated through his mind when she asked him that question. “Am I yours?" 

She thought about it for a second almost agreeing before she remembered the boy she dated for a bit in high school. Most days, he’s not even a passing thought in her mind, but sometimes he sneaks up on her and she remembers how he made her feel and she gets warm and tingly inside. Before her and Harry were an item, she’d reminisce on their time together and wonder what it might’ve been like had they not split up. "I’m… not sure…" 

He props his head up on her chest to look her directly in the eye. He lets out breath, slightly disgruntled. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, there was this guy back when I was a teenager, and I’m not sure what I felt, but it was something and it was strong." 

Panic began rising within him. "Was it like us?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

“It… was… not? I don’t know. It was a long time ago, H. But, I don’t want to talk about this if it’s going to make you upset." 

"I’m not,” he said, his voice raising up an octave. 

She looked down at him. “There are multiple ways to feel your pulse. Yours is way faster than it should be.” He felt her hand resting at the juncture of his neck and jawline. “Besides, it doesn’t matter who your first love is, what matters is your last love." 

He sat up obviously jarred by the thought of his love with another man. He didn’t like the thought at all. She immediately latched onto his back, her arms wrapping around his waist. "Baby… Come on.” She hooked her chin over his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter." 

He eventually relaxed and laid back down tucking into her once again. He doesn’t know why, but for some reason it was like he could feel her slipping away from him, so he held her as close as possible. "What about you, huh? What about your first girlfriend? The one you used to catch the train for every weekend? The one you wrote that poem on Facebook about? What about her?” He could hear the teasing in her voice, but he wasn’t up to par for it. 

“I worshipped the ground she walked on,” he stated plainly. He tried checking for her pulse, laying his head in the middle of her chest, but he couldn’t detect an increase. It was the same as it always had been, steady and, if you had asked him at any time prior to today, only beating for him. She giggled. “Why doesn’t that bother you?" 

"Why should it?” she countered, waiting for him to fire something back at her, but she could tell he wanted an actual answer. She let out a breath. “Because I know you Harry. And, you wouldn’t be with me if you didn’t want to be. There’s obviously a reason you’re not with her, or any other of your exes, anymore, and there’s a reason you are with me. No sense in focusing on the past, when we could focus on our future." 

"You’re right." 

"I know I am. It’s one of my many redeeming qualities." 

He snorted, but there were still questions and doubts niggling him. "But… but why don’t you know if you loved him or not?” He was expecting her to get massively annoyed at him for continuing the discussion after she tried to bring it to an end, but she was surprisingly calm and patient. 

“Because I don’t want to invalidate my feelings. If you had asked me back then, I would’ve sworn up and down that, yes, I was very much in love with him. But, now? Now, I’m not so sure. Now, that I’ve been with you it kind of seems like everything before was child’s play. That doesn’t mean that what I was feeling back then doesn’t count, though." 

He nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from. 

She continued speaking. "What I do know, however, is that I cared about him a lot. I’m sure of that. I still care about him, to an extent, if we’re being honest. Don’t you care about your exes?" 

He nodded. 

"I think I’ll always care about him. But, I don’t think he ever made me feel the way you do. I don’t ever recall feeling so special and important and full of love.” She untangled herself from him, slid down so that they were face to face, and grappled the back of his neck, pushing their foreheads together to look him directly in the eyes. “Only you have made me feel this way. You’re the first. And, I certainly hope you’ll be the last." 

He basked in the warmth of her words with a dimpled grin upon his lips, pink tinged across his cheeks, and a swelling feeling in his heart. He was so in love with her. He pressed a hard kiss to her lips before sprinkling butterfly kisses across her cheeks and making a mental note to always remember this moment. Because wherever life took them, whether it was together or apart, he always wanted a reminder of how he felt in this moment. It was the happiest he’d ever been.

No, Rey is not a Skywalker.

“But Rey and Kylo being cousins fighting for the future of the Skywalker name is compelling.”

I’d like to break this down step by step, avoiding discussion about what Rey being Luke’s daughter would mean for Luke’s character and the plot pirouettes that would be necessary to explain that timeline.

Let’s just focus on the framing of family.

Keep reading

LGBTQ+ Movies of 2016: Part 2

As You Are

Set in the early 1990’s, “As You Are” is the telling and retelling of a relationship between three teenagers as it traces the course of their friendship through a construction of disparate memories prompted by a police investigation.


Matias and Jeronimo know each other since childhood. Their friendship takes a new turn during the holiday before starting high school when they both experience their sexual awakening. Matias’s father breaks up their relationship by accepting a job very far away. Family’s contempt against homosexuality brings Matias to deny his friend and himself. More than ten years later, Matias returns to his old town for carnival with his girlfriend. He unexpectedly runs into Jeronimo. Feelings will slowly reappear and will reach a climax, but at what price?

A Young Man’s Future

Two college students fall in love one year before graduation and have bright futures ahead until one of them develops schizophrenia.


Since their parents split up, Sara and her younger sister live with their mother, whose new partner is a woman. Everyday life for the four of them is very similar to that of other families. But not everyone sees it that way.

Cat Skin

A shy and troubled photography student’s life is illuminated when her voyeuristic nature behind the camera lens leads her to a beautiful and confident girl.

Almost Adults

A film about growing apart when growing up. Two best friends relationship strains when one deals with her newfound sexuality and the other with breaking up with her long term boyfriend.

Fair Haven

A young man returns to his family farm, after a long stay in ex-gay conversion therapy, and is torn between the expectations of his emotionally distant father, and the memories of a past, loving relationship he has tried to bury.

Ava’s Impossible Things

When her mother makes a shocking request, sheltered Ava struggles with reality, escaping into a dream world where she summons up old friends and long forgotten desires.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Dark Percy - Evolution

Percy, after Gaea, still has nightmares every nights about tartarus, and wakes up in cold sweat every night. He could talk to Annabeth about it, or to Jason, or to- to anyone, really. He would, if it wasn’t for this tiny, treacherous voice that somehow is always there in his mind, whispering that no one can help. No one is willing to. No one cares.

Jason told him ‘I think I get it.’ and said no more. Leo - well, Leo isn’t there, is he, but he wouldn’t be right for that conversation. Frank wouldn’t be the right person to talk about it with, either, and nor would any others. And Nico avoids him like the plague since his declaration, and truthfully Percy knows he will have to talk to him about it, but like always that voice tells him it will be useless. No one listens to him, not really.

Annabeth, the only one he could talk to, doesn’t want to talk about this. The last time he tried to broach the subject, she said “Don’t.” and that was the last of it. She has nightmares too, but when he wakes her up, and lets her cry in his arms, shuddering, trembling, he can’t help but wonder if she’s remembering the monsters - or him.

Sometimes, he wonders if he is one of the monsters in her nightmares.

Of course, once she stops breathing too hard, once she stops being that lost girl that has seen too much, once she stops confusing nightmare and reality - once she stops flinching when she sees his faces cast in shadows… Once she stops, and regains some of her bearing, she doesn’t talk about it.

“I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to relive…” she trails off, eyes distant, then she smiles, a thin, forced little smile. “It’ll get better.”

And she starts talking about their plans, about graduation, and college in Camp Jupiter. She talks about the future, about her dreams, about architecture, and Percy listens and smiles, and nods. And inside of him, deep down, that treacherous voice wonders how she can talk about the future - how she can even think about it, when he’s still trapped in the past. When his own future seems blurry and dark and poisonous.

No, Annabeth doesn’t want to talk about her nightmares, and tartarus. At least with him. They think he’s unobservant. They all have always underestimated him, thought him oblivious - but he knows. He sees the way Hazel, and Piper, look at him sometimes. He has heard the hushed whispers, one evening when he went to see Annabeth and found her with the others. She talks to them.

She’s scared of him.

To be fair, he scares himself too, but the realization that no one is willing to help him like he tries to help them so often, leaves a sour taste in his mouth, like poison, like firewater. It makes the glass pieces inside him sharper, and nothing Annabeth can say or do seems to soften them again.

He starts to get headaches. Migraines.

At first, he thinks it’s the lack of sleep. Too many nightmares. Too many things he’d like to say. Too many thoughts in his head. Too much that doesn’t go away and that he doesn’t know how to control.

So after some time spent with a killer headache and the feeling he will never sleep again, he decides to go where he always felt best - in the water. One night, he simply has had enough, and jumps into the sea, goes underwater, and lets the waves comfort him, soothe him.

That’s when he realizes that he’s hyper-aware. He can feel the water around him more astutely than ever. He can feel the ground, too, in a different, more muted manner. He always could, but for some reason, now he is more sensitive. He feels like a sonar that no one thought to disconnect. But the water is soothing, and it overloads him in a good way.

He always feared drowning, but as he falls asleep at the bottom of the ocean, he wonders if it wouldn’t be the most peaceful way to go. The best option, really.

The next morning, when he gets out of the water, he hasn’t drowned. He also is still hyper-aware, but now he gets why. He can sense every water drop, every fluid everywhere. The moisture in the air, the water in the plants, his own blood thrumming in his veins. In a daze, he wanders into camp - and there he stops dead the first time he crosses path with someone, because he can feel their own blood thrumming in their veins too. And not only that, but every fluid in their body.

It’s terrible, and wrong and- and yet, he can’t help but feel fascinated. So much power, just as the tip of his fingers. He could just extend his will, the way he never dares to, and he could control everything. He could bend the grass. He could bend people… The glass shards inside of him rattle, and something twists in his gut. He looks down, horrified with himself for even thinking about it.

It will pass, he thinks as he sits down and takes a soda. It will go away.

But it doesn’t. It doesn’t - it actually becomes worse. Every water molecule, every fluid, he can sense. He can control. After a week of restraining himself, he waves a hand over a patch of grass, and watches in amazement as the grass follows. Then he doesn’t move at all, and still the grass twists like he wants it to. It bends, and twists, and with just a twitch of his finger, grass strands are ripped off the earth, turned to shreds, controlled by the water inside them.

Percy wonders if he could do the same to a monster - rip their limbs off, rip their heads. Make them last. Make them suffer.

The thought is so strong, so surprisingly exhilarating and exciting that it shocks Percy out of it. Whatever it was. He vows to himself to never stray down that path - Annabeth’s voice comes to him, telling him that some things aren’t meant to be controlled.

It’s easier said than done. Now that he knows, he has to make the conscious effort to take his soda by hand every morning, instead of just summoning it to him using the fluids. He has to make sure that some of his most violent urges stay that way - urges, that he doesn’t act upon. It’s hard, though. It could be so easy to make Clarisse shut up, simply make those little veins, and the moisture in her skin, go that way, and her mouth would be shut. Hell, with a little pressure there, she would choke on her own saliva.

That night, just like every night that week, Percy goes to sleep in the sea. Being surrounded by water calms his nerves, calms his senses, mutes down everything. 

For the next week, again, Percy tries his best, but it becomes unbearable. He has to try. And he’s terrified that he will give in to that urge - that he will hurt someone. He’s terrified that one day he will act by accident, a reflex that will send his friends against the wall like flies against a windshield. He’s terrified that he will hurt someone, but at the same time there is still this urge, primal and feral, to use his powers to their fullest extent. To slaughter monsters.

Two days later, Sally Jackson opens her door to find her son there. Of course, the first thing she does is telling him off for disappearing, for risking his life again, for not coming to visit sooner - then she notices the bags under his eyes, the twitch in his fingers, the way his sea-green eyes dart around, focusing on things she cannot see. She bites her lip.

“You look terrible,” she says. “Will you ever stop fighting ?”

Percy wants to laugh at that, but refrains - it would come out bitter, jagged, too sharp and dark, and she might look at him like Annabeth looks at him those days. He will never stop fighting, he knows. There is fire in his blood, destruction in his name, disasters in his inheritance. The sea can never be tamed, can never settle down. He doesn’t tell her this, because he doesn’t want her disapointed - and maybe, she knows after all. Instead, he smiles, something not quite warm and not quite large enough, and a bit crooked but still. He smiles, and says.

“For now,” he says. He hesitates, then. “Can I stay here for some time ? I need-” space, time, isolation, love, an anchor, “-some holidays.”

“Oh,” Sally looks surprised for a moment, then very pleased. She smiles softly at him. “Of course you can stay, Percy. This is your home too.”

Home. Percy lets her draw him into a hug, and tentatively hugs her back - though his fingers still twitch, and he can feel her heart, and her blood so near. He can sense the humidity of the air, can sense the plants growing on the balcony, two rooms away. Can sense people, in the appartement bellow them, and next to them, and something small - maybe a dog. He senses the canalisations, like veins in a rock body that is this building. His head is still aching. His blood is calling for fights to come. 

He wonders if it’s fair of him to expose his mother to the monster he is slowly becoming. He wonders if she’ll let him sleep in the bathtub, if she’ll let him lock the door just in case. He wonders if, maybe, with a bit of luck, he’d drown one night, in his bathtub. He wonders if the fact that the idea is oh so tempting makes him selfish.

“Yeah,” he finally rasps out, and it sounds distant to him. “Home.”

And he wonders if one day he will truly have one of those.

Three nights later, Azriel stood in the foyer of his house. Elain was standing in the living room. A thunderstorm raged outside. Water dripped from his hair and wings to puddle on the floor.

Elain crossed her arms. All the lights were off, she wore only a thin nightgown. She must have been asleep. “I was wondering when you’d show your face.”

Good, he thought. He wanted her mad, wanted her pissed. It would make all of this easier.

“I’m not beholden to you,” he said. “You are I are not lovers.”

Her eyes flickered over him, calculating his braced feet, his wide shoulders, the arms he held rigid at his sides, and his wings—slightly flared to make him appear bigger, more threatening. He’d let his fangs show, too.

She gave him a look of utter dismissal—that would’ve made Nesta proud—and turned away from him. “Your share of dinner is in the oven. Where it’s been for the last few nights. Might still be warm if you’re lucky.” Then she walked away.

Good. Fine.

Thunder cracked, lightning flared. He melted into shadow and appeared before her. “You need to leave.”

She didn’t flinch. Just narrowed her eyes. “Why? Because you don’t want to fuck me?”

That had not been what he’d expected. But he didn’t let it sink in. “Oh, no. That’s the problem.” He took a step toward her, clearly in her space, clearly trying to cow her. And…

And if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she knew exactly what he was doing. “I do want to fuck you, Elain. Brutally. And without mercy.” He leaned forward until his fangs were inches from her face. “I want to wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze. I want to hit your bare backside until there are tears in your eyes. And I want to fuck you raw while you beg me to stop. I want you to agree, to consent, to hate it, to fight me, to run from me.” He scraped his fangs lightly down her neck and said. “I want to hurt you, Elain. In every way you’ve never imagined.”

She tilted her head, giving him more access. “Bite me.”

Lightning flashed. Azriel froze.

“I’ll scream for you,” she said. “I’ll run from you, I’ll fight you, I’ll pretend it’s not consensual.” She took a step toward him. He hadn’t realized he’d moved away. “I’ll do whatever you want. So long as you let me stay—here,” she placed a hand over his heart, “with you. In our home.”

He jerked back, slamming into the fireplace mantle.

She advanced. “Isn’t this what you want? To for me to agree to let you hurt me? To enjoy it when you do?” She grabbed his belt buckle.

He pulled her hands away. “Stop.” He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. And the smell coming off of her.

She wanted this. Wanted him.

“If you want me to hurt you, Azriel… just ask. We can choose a safety word. Something easy that we’ll bo—”


His chest was tight, breathing heavy, erratic. What was happening? This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to leave, to run scared. She wasn’t supposed to stay. Why did she want to stay?

“Azriel?” Her voice a whisper of calm through the raging storm. Thunder cracked, boomed above them. “You once asked me to let you help me.” The tips of her fingers grazed the rolling edges of the scars on his hand. He flinched. “Right now I’m asking you to let me do the same.”

“You don’t want to help me,” he whispered, the shadows whirling around him. “You can’t help me. The things I need.” He shook his head, licked his lips, tried to catch his damn breath. “I want to hurt you. I want you to hurt me.”

She grabbed his hand. “I don’t believe you.”

He vanished into shadow—

And reappeared a second later only to realize he’d taken Elain with him. And, no—he hadn’t taken her with him. She’d…she’d done it herself. She’d followed him.

Into the darkness, Elain had followed him.

She dropped his hand. “How?” he said.

“For a while now. Since just after the Cauldron.” She shrugged. “I knew I could that day you gave me Truth-teller, I saw it and knew I’d use the shadows to find the king and kill him before he killed my sister.”

“But you…” He shook his head. “You don’t belong in the shadows. You’re not…”

“I’m not what? Shadowsinger? I’m not human, not High Fae—not really. I’m just me and you’re…” She bit her lip. “That day you saved me from drowning you asked me to let you help me.” She cupped his face. He did not flinch away, only closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her smooth skin on his. “Now I’m asking you the same thing. Let me help you?”

Thick droplets of rain were a steady drone against the roof and windows. It puddled in the garden beyond, hitting and bouncing off trees and leaves and vegetables, pooling in used and empty pots.

“Why?” he breathed.

“Because you are not unworthy, Azriel.” He opened his eyes and her other hand found his cheek. “You are not unseen. I see you.”

Something in him was breaking. He wanted to look away to run, but he was rooted to the spot, to her eyes.

She said, “You are not a child still locked away in his father’s house. You are not scared and frightened and unworthy of love. And you are not Illyrian as you are not just shadowsinger. You are not just the High Lord and Lady’s Spymaster, their torturer or their shadow. You are not just the keeper of their secrets, nor are you the keeper of your own. You are not just brutal and scarred and fearsome to behold. Not just silent and strong and always waiting and watching and seeing the things others miss. You are not just the darkness and you are not alone. Those things are all a part of you, but they do not define you.”

Tears ran down his face. She wiped them with her thumbs.

“You are Azriel. You are my friend. And you are kind and gentle and selfless. Your loyalty to your family and friends is a magic all it’s own. The way you care for them and your people is a strength too few will ever be capable of in their own lives. You are a treasure, a gift, and you are worthy of love and of a place to call home. A person to call home.” Elain’s face glistened as another flash of lightning illuminated their small house. “When you pulled me from the lake, when you saved me, the first thing you declared was not of love or that I was your mate…it was that I was your friend. Your friend.” The memory of the day she’d spilled from the Cauldron flickered across both their minds. “You chose me as I chose you. Because we get to choose, Azriel. We get to choose. Not the past, or the present, or the future, nor the many versions of ourselves that we hide and perform when the moment calls for it. And not the Cauldron.”

He shook as she brushed back his tears. As he lifted his hands to wipe hers, cupping her delicate face gently, lovingly.

“We—us—we get to choose the ones we love.”

He shook his head.

She held it still.

“Look at me, Azriel.” He did. “I choose you. I’ll have you and no other for all my years of eternity.” A sob broke from him. From them both. “I choose you to be my friend, to be my family”—she kissed him—“my protector”—kissed him again—“to be the one who wipes my tears and makes me laugh”—another kiss—“to be the one who tells me when I’m being ridiculous and when I need to apologize. To love me in all my darkness and in all my light.”

He didn’t know when she’d climbed up him, when she’d wrapped her legs around his waist and lost her fingers in his hair, her forehead pressed to his. All he knew was his hands were around her, holding her to him and—

I could die from this, he thought. From loving her.

“To be my mate, Azriel. I choose you to be my mate.”

“Why?” Why would anyone choose him? How could anyone look at him and not see the scarred, broken, disgusting thing he was? How could anyone as bright and sunny and beautiful as Elain see more—see him?

“You’re the only one who sees me, Azriel. And I see you. In all your darkness and shadow and I am not afraid. You are beautiful.”

He kissed her then, finding the soft of her lips and pressing his against them. She pulled him closer and opened for him, angling her head to let him in deeply, thoroughly.

“Please,” was her only aching word. A whispered plea to let her in, for him to take her up on her offer and allow himself in. Her tongue swept beneath his upper lip, her teeth grazed then bit his bottom one.

“I’m—it’s been a while,” he began. But as he spoke he walked to the mess of blankets they’d been sleeping on in the livingroom. And laid her down beneath him. “I haven’t been with a female—”

She reached up and kissed him. “I’ve only ever been with one. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Then he lost himself in her. They lost themselves in one another.

Elain shimmied out of her nightgown—chest bare beneath—then quickly helped Azriel remove his shirt and trousers. She guided a scarred hand to one of her breasts. He hated the way it looked on her. Even in the darkness he could see the mottled skin juxtaposed against her smooth, perfect flesh. He hesitated.

“Look at me.” He did. “I want you. I’ll have you with your scars and your damaged pieces or I won’t have you at all.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Who was this female and whatever had he done to deserve her?

He palmed her breast, they both moaned. He kissed down her neck as his fingers teased and pulled at her nipple, his name escaping her lips like smoke from a candle newly blown out. His lips found the gentle curve of her breasts and he trailed over them lightly, kissing and nipping all the way, until the hard of her nipple pressed against them. She arched, trying to get it in his mouth. He smiled into the darkness. Licked once, twice—blew to cool the wetted skin.

Elain dug her nails into his back. “Don’t tease me.”

So he didn’t. He bit down gently on that hardened, soft nipple and slipped his free hand between her legs. She jolted, surprise in her eyes. The scent of her intoxicating. “Too much?”

She bit her bottom lip, writhing slightly against the hand between her legs. “No—gods, no. Not enough.”

Slipping his hand beneath her undergarments, he stroked and touched her where no one ever had while simultaneously biting her other nipple, hard. She curse. Confusion and pleasure warring in her eyes. Confusion at how something could be so painful…and yet feel so good. Her breath was fast and shallow, coming in short pants as her heart raced in her chest.

He slowed. Kissed and sucked—no teeth. He leaned back, finger still inside her. “Elain, is this your first time?”

“Yes. Graysen never…touched me like this, saw me like this.”

He knew it made him an ass to feel a sense of pride at those words, but he failed to care. He only watched the rapid rise and fall of her breast, the sweat beginning to coat her skin, the dilating of her eyes from the things he was doing to her. And the scent coming off her—he drank it in like whiskey, tasting and inhaling every last drop until he was lightheaded and giddy like some back alley drunk in the slums.

“He never fucked you like this,” he sunk that finger to knuckle, “did he?” She gasped and writhed, growing wetter and wetter with each stroke of him inside her. He added a second finger, her lips parted in a silent moan and he crushed his mouth to hers. She bit and sucked and pulled on his lips and tongue with her own, inhaling his exhale as he did the same to her own.

“Take them off,” she pleaded. He knew what she meant.

Azriel pulled back to survey her, removing his hands. She whimpered at the lost contact, eyes heavy and wanting, but her hands found her undergarments and she raised her hips, sliding them down the length of her legs. For him. He felt her eyes on him as he took in all of her. His eyes dragging down the length of her slowly. Lower and lower and lower—

Calloused hands pulled her knees wide. She swallowed hard, hands gripping the bedding beneath as he looked his fill. She was aching for him to touch to—

“He never fucked you with his mouth did he?” She began to quake, eyes closing as if steeling her strength her anticipation for what they both knew would come next. She shook her head.

Az smiled.

Then bowed before her.

Between her legs.

He paused.

For only a moment.

Letting her feel the heat of his breath on her skin.

Then he kissed her.

The sound she made was his undoing. He slid his hands over her thighs, then spread her flesh to kiss her in places no one ever had.

Elain was on fire. She was going to explode. Combust. He obliterated her with his kiss, his mouth, the way he sucked and nipped and worked the flesh of her. She was lost to it. Gone. Had no sense of what or who she was. All she knew was that Azriel—Azriel—was between her legs. Worshiping her. With his mouth. Oh gods his mouth. And his fingers.   


She was dizzy.

The world was too big and too small. Too hot and too cold. Too much and too little. Everything. She felt everything. She was only feeling. Only this moment, this second. She was dying. She was going to die. The way he touched her kissed her stroked her worked her—

Not enough air.

The world came apart in a brilliant smattering of colors and quakes and sounds.

It lasted forever and not long at all. It left her boneless and shaking and panting and…shaking.

She had no idea how much time had elapsed, but when she came down from the high of it all, Azriel was there. His arms around her, lips gentle on hers. Body sweat-slicked and hard as it pressed against her own. Oh and press it did. The fabric of his undershorts too thin to hide his wanting. It rocked lazily against the apex of her thighs.

And just like that she was ready again.

She lifted a leg over his waist and turned more fully to him, pressing her breasts to his bare chest, she rocked against his length. He groaned into her mouth.

“Elain, we don’t have to.”

She could taste herself on his lips. “I need you,” she breathed into his mouth. Reaching between them, she freed the length of him, shadows helping to pull his undershorts the rest of the way down. He was thick and hard where she gripped him, rocking him against the flesh between her legs.

He watched in awe as she used the tip of him to play with herself. “You’re beautiful when you come,” he said, finding her mouth. She gripped him harder, sliding him to the place they both wanted him to be. “The sounds you make, the faces.” He groaned when she bit his bottom lip and bucked his hips to taste the first bit of himself inside her. “The way you felt around me, my fingers, like you never wanted to let go.”

“I don’t ever want to let you go,” she breathed into his mouth. “Never.” He growled. Then groaned when she released his length to slip her arms around his neck, and pull him on top of her. “I need you.”

He braced himself around her, smoothing a calloused hand up and down the length of one of her thighs. Her hand slipped beneath them and she lined them up.

He leaned forward. They both groaned then they felt her wetness yield to the width of him. He gave them an inch—the press, the thickness, the stretch—exquisite. He rocked toward her, then pulled back. Then toward her—a little deeper—then back.

Back and forth and back and forth he moved, each time taking more of her, giving more to her.

But he was—larger than a human man, and she stilled, body rigid, breathing heavy for the wrong reasons.

Azriel scented it, the fear, the pain. He stilled. Kissed her.

Kissed her again.

“Tell me if you want to stop.”

She shook her head. “Don’t stop.” Despite the pain, she bucked her hips, wincing.

He kissed her again, then reached between them, finding that swollen bundle of nerves and rolling gentle circles in it. Her eyes grew heavy again, breathing changing from pained to pleasured. The slip of him inside her eased as her body warmed and wetted around him. He chuckled into their next kiss. “That’s it.”

He pulled back and slipped in, a little further than before. Elain moaned. Any pain gone, or too mixed with pleasure to register correctly.

He pulled back. And slipped in deeper. They both moaned at the pressure. At the lack of anything between them. Just skin—and at the thought he pulled back and buried himself to hilt.

She gasped and hooked her heels on his hips. He removed his hand from between her legs to cage her face with them. They stared at one another. Unmoving. Just breathing.

He was inside her. She was around him, holding him, every part of him in her care. Entrusted to her. And she did not shy away or run scared. She merely ran her hands through his hair. And kissed him softly. Her eyes never once leaving his.

“I think I love you,” he whispered.

She tightened around him. Smiled. “Yes,” she said, kissing him. “Yes, I think I love you.” He smiled into her, pressing his hips into hers, feeling the press of their flesh around where they were connected. She fit around him perfectly—tight and aching and drenched. Gods he loved this feeling, loved her. He circled his hips still pressed against hers as close as they could be. “Az,” she moaned. “More, I need more.”

He gave her a brutal kiss then rolled his hips, rocking them together, finding their rhythm amid the sounds and needs of their bodies. This was a claiming, he decided. This was what claiming a female looked and felt like. What it looked and felt like to be claimed as a male. The sound, the smell—Oh, fuck—the feeling. All of it.

“More,” she moaned. “Deeper.”

He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and ground into her. The look on her face told him Graysen had never taken her like this. And he growled with no lack of satisfaction at the thought. He growled again when she slipped a hand between her legs to stroke herself. She wanted to come like this. With him inside her. From the things he was doing to her.

He sped up the pace. Could feel the edge approaching. Elain fisted a hand in his hair, kissing with teeth and tongue and sucking—gods he loved this female. Loved the way her body tightened around his cock, pulled him in, wetted for him. The sounds she made, the faces—all of it—for him and him alone.

“Come for me, Elain,” he said with a bite to her lip, nearing his own edge. He pinned her hands above her head and sat back slightly, deepening the stroke of his cock inside her. She licked her lips, eyes lust addled. He took her in, all of her in. He threaded their fingers together, still pressed to the floor above her head, and ground his hips to press against the nerves between her legs. “Come for me right now.

She did.

Moaning and gasping and writhing and clenching so tightly around his cock that he barrelled into his own release—thrusting and plunging and delving into her to mark her as his own, so that he could be marked as her own, as he spilled himself deep inside her.

When it was over, she was wet and hot and aching around the length of him. He was still inside her, still atop her, both unable to move, to care. Just basking in the glow of it. In gentle, loving kisses. In exhaustion. In a sweaty, lazy embrace. In the shadow and sunlight that surrounded them.

And somewhere in the darkness he felt that smile bloom across his face and thought that maybe she hadn’t been the one saved that day he pulled her from the lake. Maybe she’d saved him.

[Watercliff part 8 - The End!] part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Could we all be surprised and Lotor winds up being enamoured with Pidge?

A lot of people are assuming that Lotor is going to either beeline romantically for either Allura (no surprise due to the history of the series), Keith (Rival turned Romance and Keith helped him) or Lance (due to issues and people want angst). But what if that’s way off the mark? What if the one that Lotor winds up wanting to capture and becomes obsessed with, is none other then Pidge. 

Okay here me out here. We know that Katie is desperately looking for her brother and father, and now with Shiro missing that one small glimmer of hope connecting them to her has vanished with him. Shiro was one of the few that really knew just how much Matt means to Katie and the connection that they shared. It’s why he keeps encouraging her through out the story. Katie hides a lot of her own issues under the guise of logic and helping out the others, and while Keith and Lance and even Hunk struggle with their own issues (betting anything we’ll get more on Hunk’s in season three and four), they don’t always notice Katie’s problems. 

Enter Lotor, who has family issues as well. His father may or may not love him, he may or may not have been trapped inside the belly of a beast (probably trying to get the same things that Keith and Hunk were after) and there’s also the fact that his coloring is very much like the original Lotor’s indicating that he’s probably half Altean. 

So here we have Katie who has not only just got some info on her brother she may have to pause the search for him in order to find Shiro. Now given that we know her brother was rescued by the rebels this means that she’s going to want to go after the rebels to get to her brother. 

Now here’s the cool thing to note about Lotor, he is the sort of person that would be willing to work with Katie to find Matt. If Lotor keeps parts of his old personality from both Go Lion, original Voltron and Voltron Force, then he’ll probably see the easy target in Pidge over say Lance or Keith. Again keep in mind that Pidge is willing to do just about anything to find her brother and she nearly caused Lance and Shiro to get caught because of her looking up info while she should have been paying attention. Now Lance is easy to manipulate, but Pidge, oh Pidge would be far easier to work with. For Lotor it’s not about who’s easy to play with, it’s who is going to benefit him the most, and while Lance certainly could become a useful pawn in all of this…it’s Pidge that has the most knowledge to gain from. 

Katie is a genius, this much has been shown. Not only did she manage to help Coran fix the ship, but she’s also invented things that actually benefit the Lion’s as a whole. She’s able to figure out the tech of the Galra and probably could reverse engineer some of the items that they built and vice versa as she’s built things to protect and help the Lions. It’s an easy thing to see Lotor seeing her as one of the link pins to the whole team. 

Let’s take a quick look at something short here. When the Stranger takes the bag of  scaultrite he knows what he’s taking there. This to me at least indicates that Lotor is probably going to be more science minded then his past incarnations. Someone who will be more tech savvy then just a fighter and a flirt. This would put Pidge right up his alley, someone who can help him build things. Lotor is also good at playing up being a decent person. It’s not too hard to picture him seeing Katie’s weak spot and going for it. 

So where would that leave us in that case. Let’s for a moment hypothesise a possibility for season 3. Katie now has info on her  brother and wants to go looking for him but the team is more determined to find Shiro. Something she wants to too, but Keith, still getting used to the leader role, makes the mistake of acting like finding Matt is less of a priority to him (not totally true as Keith has shown to care a lot for Pidge) and upsets her. Right now they have Lotor captured for some reason (either he’s playing a trap or they caught him or something of the like) and she goes to check on the cell holding him. During this time he puts into her head the idea that he can help her find her brother if she lets him out. 

Of course Pidge refuses to, at first, leading up to a situation where she decides, against better judgement, to take Lotor with her to find Matt. He claims to really be with the rebels and offers a hand to her. The two have a bit of an adventure as they try to track down the rebels to get to matt. During this time it’s pretty easy to see a more tech savvy Lotor getting interested in Pidge as a whole and seeing Katie as someone that could be a good person to have on his side. Eventually they make it to the “rebel” location and Lotor turns on her saying that he respects her and wants her to join his group. Thankfully the teams followed them and they fight him off, Lotor getting away but now interested in Pidge as a possible future partner in all this. 

it’s a reasonable option seeing that he may find her attractive as well, and I wouldn’t put it past this team for subverting things by having him go for the one character that probably wouldn’t seem as attractive to someone as “Pretty” as Lotor. Losing her to the team, someone who he thinks he bonded with, would be something that would make him obsessed with her, more so then the others. That’s why I’m thinking that we may see that in this series over say Lance or Keith. 

Edit: Noticed I’m getting one or two comments about the age factor on this so a few things of note that is important about this post. 

1. Yes, Katie is a teenager between early teens (14/15) to Mid teens (16/17), and the likely hood is that she’s the same age as Allura in the original Voltron (16 years old) due to the fact that the Garrison would not allow anyone under the age of 15 to run the simulation, since they would not have learned enough by the age of 14 to fly. So I’m assuming that she’s about 16 years old as of this time. 

2. We do not know the age of Prince Lotor at all. Given the situation right now regarding his father (who I want to actually write a post about how the Galra Emperor has lived so long) and Haggar’s reaction to things I would think that Lotor is a newer development. Allura doesn’t mention him at all when the series started, and that at least indicates that he was born at a later point in time. Now given the history of Lotor (or at least the original Sincline -more on him in another post) we can assume that if his history stays roughly the same this would mean that he would be about the same age as Keith (16 to 17, 18 at the oldest) which would then put the whole issue of age as moot since he’s a teenager along with Pidge. 

3. And most important, this post wasn’t to be taken seriously. With all the shipping wars going on and the sudden infusion of fans jumping on a bandwagon that doesn’t yet exist (Lotor x anyone) I just figured it would be amusing to put out the most outrageous ship I could think of as a humorous thing within the context of the series, since Pidge only seems to be interested in tech and geeking out over science. 

So there you have it. Hope this clears some things up for people reading this post. 

Edit two: The more I think about it, Lotor was at the destroyed home of the Galra (if my theory is right on that) and he needed the same stuff as Keith and Hunk to make lenses for something, meaning that he probably is scientific minded like Haggar. Meaning that, yeah they could easily get along if they end up allies. :)

anonymous asked:

can you sort the percy Jackson characters into Hogwarts houses?


okay so let’s all remember: Gryffindor- ‘courage, bravery, nerve and chivalry’, Hufflepuff -‘hard work, patience, justice and loyalty’, Ravenclaw- ‘intelligence, creativity, learning and wit’, and Slytherin- ‘ambition, cunning, leadership and resourcefulness’. 

Annabeth Chase- Ravenclaw, she’s definitely one of the easier ones when it comes to this. While she would fit nicely into other houses, her intelligence and wit are almost always what saves her ass. She’s a great fighter but she prefers talking her way out of situations, disarming her enemies with words. Not to mention she had Arachne weave her own trap on the spot, like, come on. 

Thalia Grace- Slytherin. She could definitely fit into Gryffindor, but Thalia’s very ambitious, resourceful as hell, and her fatal flaw is literally being power hungry. She slides into leadership roles automatically and gets enraged when someone tries to question her authority or ability (see: all her fights with Percy, ever). She’s definitely most at home in this house. 

Luke Castellan- Hufflepuff. He’s literally a poster boy for the puffs before he joins Kronos. ‘But wait,’ you say, ‘he should be Slytherin, he was cunning and resourceful and leading Kronos’ army!’ NO HE WASN’T. He was following Kronos’ orders and acting like a mouthpiece 90% of the time! Luke had a strong sense of loyalty- and it was used against him. He had a strong sense of justice- and he felt everyone the gods wronged deserved that. He was a hard worker and crazy patient as a camp counselor and those traits came into play when he was working for Kronos. This boy is a Hufflepuff. He also personally recovered Kronos’ remains, so, like, he’s even a particularly good finder. 

Grover Underwood- Hufflepuff. Honestly I shouldn’t even really have to explain this one, but: there’s a reason Pan chose him as a replacement. Grover puts his literal everything into whatever task he’s given, whether that be searching for pan, restoring the wild, or protecting demigods. Unfailingly loyal, extremely patient with all the ridiculous demigods around him, and always willing to fight for what’s right even if he’s scared. I love my hufflepuff goat boy!!! 

Rachel Elizabeth Dare- Gryffindor. She’d fit in so well in Ravenclaw, to the point where I wanna say ‘fuck it’ and put her there, but like…this girl found out the boy she had almost died around twice was half god and immediately believed him and went Ride Or Die for him. She lead a bunch of potentially crazy strangers through the freaking death trap maze on a hunch that she could. She highjacked a helicopter and flew it into a warzone to help her friend. She let an ancient prophetic spirit posses her body even though she knew the last person who tried lost their mind. She hit the titan lord Kronos in the eye with a plastic hairbrush, and then immediately decided that hairbrush was the only weapon she would ever need to defend herself with, even though everyone else around her has swords or fangs. This girl is batshit crazy impulsive and filled to the brim with nerve, Gryffindor is where she belongs. I love her bye. 

Bianca di Angelo- Gryffindor. She was always a little more hesitant than the others, but when push came to shove she always took risks to do what she thought was right. My baby was brave as hell okay. 

Zoe Nightshade- Slytherin. She was a great leader for centuries, and dreamed big for the future of the hunters even when she knew she was going to die. Was literally one of the most pulled together people in this entire series. Resourceful as shit. She was also very set in the ways of her past, a common trait among slytherins- she just couldn’t bring herself to care about the mortal world outside of when it directly effected her, and often put up a fight when she had to conform to it. Slytherins are also often very loyal to their own, and, well, we all remember how her story ended. She would do anything for Artemis. I’m literally still crying over her okay bye. 

Nico di Angelo- Hufflepuff. I will not stand for all these slytherin Nico posts any longer, guys!!! This boy is a hufflepuff!!!!! Holy shit!! Okay, like, the slytherin traits? He hates leadership, his only ambition is to not have severe depression, and??? cunning??? This fucking loser cunning???? Like, sure, he hid the camps from each other but like…not well. Everyone knew he was hiding something, just no one bothered to press him on it that hard lmao. And he doesn’t do ANYTHING for his own personal gain. He belongs in hufflepuff- Nico is loyal to a fault. He’s been double crossed so many times because it just didn’t occur to him that people would take advantage of him, because he personally would never do that to someone. Nico di Angelo has every reason under the sun to want to betray the gods and he just…doesn’t. He never even considers it for a second, because he has a strong sense of right and wrong, and even if he feels like an outsider at camp that’s still the place where his loyalties lie. Percy, as a narrator, has had moments where he’s been suspicious of Nico’s motives, but he’s never once doubted Nico’s intent. He doesn’t always know if he can trust Nico as a friend but he’s absolutely sure Nico will always be an ally. Nico’s an incredibly hard worker even if he doesn’t let it show to the others, but he’s always pushing himself to his absolute limits to help. And like, again, half the time he doesn’t actually have to work so hard to help, some people never really even expect him to help at all- but he goes out of his way because he knows it the right thing to do. He holds grudges and lashes out in anger because his sense of justice is almost overpowering. This kid is a hufflepuff and I’ll actually fight you on it. 

Ethan Nakamura- Gryffindor. He’s…really hard to place, honestly, but I think this spot fits him better than slytherin. Even if he was misguided, he was very brave and had a lot of nerve. 

Charles Beckendorf- Gryffindor. This boy was literally everything Godric Gryffindor had in mind when he created the house. He’s a Gryffindor wet dream. Had a lot of nerve, was a big brother to basically everyone in camp, and readily sacrificed himself for the greater cause. My brave boy I miss him. 

Silena Beauregard- Hufflepuff. She was extremely loyal, even if she put her faith in the wrong people at points. Sacrificed herself trying to do what she knew was right. Very hardworking and always willing to help anybody. I love her sm. 

Clarisse LaRue- Slytherin. Literally who’s more ambitious and resourceful than Clarisse. Who loves taking charge more than Clarisse. No one. No one at all. This girl is 100% Slytherin and she kicks ass doing it. 

Will Solace- Hufflepuff. He tries so hard to help people!!! Patient enough to help Nico work through his shit!! Unfailingly loyal to his ridiculous father!!! Never shown to be anything other than a sweet guy who just wants to do good in the world. This goofball sunshine is precious. 

Jason Grace- Hufflepuff. Jason often finds himself in positions of power, even though he hates being in power, just because he’s the only one people know they can trust 100%. And he does it without complaining, and does everything he can to make sure everyone he’s working with is doing okay. He acts all stoic to try to make people feel more protected but this fucking dork is always stressed, Ride Or Dies for everyone he knows and if you ask him to describe any of his friends he’ll probably tear up while singing their praises to you. He works SO HARD to make sure everything is going okay, and strongly believes in teamwork. He’s patient enough to deal with, like, everyone he’s ever encountered, and always does what’s in the best interest for others. Speaks up to his father about honoring the forgotten gods because he knows it’s what’s right. A total screaming dork and I love my boy. 

Piper McLean- Gryffindor. Like…half of her character arc is dedicated to her learning to be brave and fighting for what’s right. You need a lot of nerve and power to work charmspeak as well as she does, and she’s always ready to pull some ridiculous stunts. She starts out somewhat panicked and timid, but once she starts to grow she realizes that if anything’s gonna get done, it’s because she has to have the balls to do it herself. Will throw herself into dangerous situations, and is fiercely protective of her loved ones. Literally ran into a temple of fear and terror and??? Completely conquered it and took over and used it to wreck a giant???? This girl is a brave badass and nobody should ever mess with her MY GIRL. 

Leo Valdez- Ravenclaw. He??? Is literally a prodigy child??? Like I’m sorry I’m just so sick of people downplaying Leo’s intelligence. He understood complicated mathematics and basic engineering before he hit double digits. He captured and fixed Festus all by himself, in one night, when his entire cabin had been trying to do that for months. He found out he was a demigod and threw himself into studying ancient greek history. He designed the entire Argo, is the only person who can fly it and fully understands how it works, and is also the sole person who keeps it up and running with repairs. He figured out how the spheres work in record time, he’s always able to work out complicated riddles or problems. Remember that time he was about to crash into the ocean and he??? Taped the sphere to his chest and built a functioning personal helicopter to steer and soften his crash in like…under three minutes? That time he casually strolled into a grocery store and got all the stuff he needed to make a bomb in half an hour? He’s always making really little inventions that seem silly but are actually incredibly helpful? He’s hyper and goofy, sure, but Leo’s literally a genius. He’s incrediblely creative and fast thinking, loves learning and is always excited by new things. Please give my boy the credit he deserves. 

Hazel Levesque- Hufflepuff. Hazel is honestly SO HARD to sort because she’d be a model Gryffindor honestly but like…She didn’t have to sacrifice herself to stop Gaea, but she did anyway because she knew it was the right thing to do. She sacrificed eternal happiness because she knew it wasn’t fair for her mother to suffer. She has a very strong sense of justice and is always willing to fight for it. She’s always giving her 110% when she’s working at anything, be it practicing magic or sword fighting, and it really pays off. She deals with her failures with grace and is unwavering when it comes to the people she loves. Queen. 

Frank Zhang- Gryffindor. Literally his Whole Thing is that he has to be brave because he never knows when he’s gonna die. He’s always going to make sacrifices and fight for the people he cares because he’s set on burning bright. He’s got a lot of nerve, he just needs to be pushed to remember its there. A good leader whether he believes he is or not. Even when he’s not feeling confident, courage and bravery are the traits he admires and values most, and that’s what he wants to shoot for. I miss this teddy bear so much. 

Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano - Gryffindor. Like…come on. This is one of the easier ones. She’s one of the most courageous people in the series. She has enough inner strength that she can lend it all to an entire army. She found the bravery to stand up to her father in defense of her sister. She survived being captured by pirates. She threw herself on top of a bomb to protect the Athena Parthenos. My girl is a custom made Gryffindor. 

Calypso- Ravenclaw. She loves learning more than anything else, she’s super creative and ingenuitive, and is taking steps to learn magic again. High hopes for this girl I love her. 

Octavian- Slytherin. Doesn’t need much explanation tbh. Very cunning, very ambitious, very power hungry. Willing to do anything to get his way. Remember that time he like, scammed Apollo and then further scammed his camp into basically making him pope??? Wild. I don’t miss him.

Meg McCaffrey- Gryffindor. She’s pretty hard to place but she’s arguably one of the braver characters, even if she doesn’t believe she is. She gets nervous and scared a lot but she’s often able to push past that and stay strong. Back talks everyone under the sun because she barely gives a fuck. At the end of the day she knows what’s right and wrong, and she wants to help. 

Percy Jackson- Ravenclaw. Listen. Let me explain. First of all, Percy is SO HARD to place and I completely understand all the ridiculous discourse over whether he’s Gryffindor/Hufflepuff/Slytherin, but I NEVER see cases made for Ravenclaw Percy and I think it’s a travesty, because he’d fit in there quite nicely. So, listen, I know the boy has a bit of a bad rep for being slow, but like…most of the time he really isn’t? It’s just one of those things that got exaggerated. Percy’s a very observant person, he just doesn’t exactly always let the other characters know that. He’s not a straight A student, but we do know he’s not awful- a lot of times there will be moments where he directly goes “hey, I remember learning something like this in school!” and applies whatever it is to the situation. Some of his plans have been crazy or ridiculous, but they are creative, usually have some kind of logic behind them, and do often work out for him- when they had to get off the Thrill Ride O’ Love, when he used Thalia’s shield as a sled for them down a hill, when he pulled a stunt similar to that trying to get to camp Jupiter, when he somehow made a pulley system out of chains and pulled his giant half brother off the ground, stuff like that. Like Annabeth, he’s also very good at talking his way out of situations- he doesn’t always like to, but he can absolutely pull it off when he needs to. He’s a very smart talker, honestly, there are multiple instances of him managing to manipulate others into doing what he wants them to (not just the scene with Bob, which gets the most attention bc it was outside of his pov). He’s incredibly witty, in both definitions of the word, and often times it works to his advantage because other characters downplay his intelligence. He has a good sense for battle strategy, and he’s incredibly perceptive about his surroundings, often times picking up on things the others (even Annabeth!) miss. He has a strong intuition and things usually work out when he follows it. There’s more I can use to back this up but this is already long enough, point is- I think Percy is just an unconventional Ravenclaw. Like, upon meeting him you don’t immediately understand why he’s in that house, but it becomes clearer the more he opens up, like Luna, I guess? Anyway, I love my boy and he’s very smart please give him some credit. 

Feel free to send me your guys’ opinions!!! :) 


Young Adult Books with Black Protagonists 

Shadowshaper Series by Daniel Jose Older

Sierra Santiago was looking forward to a fun summer of making art, hanging out with her friends, and skating around Brooklyn. But then a weird zombie guy crashes the first party of the season. Sierra’s near-comatose abuelo begins to say “No importa” over and over. And when the graffiti murals in Bed-Stuy start to weep…. Well, something stranger than the usual New York mayhem is going on.

Sierra soon discovers a supernatural order called the Shadowshapers, who connect with spirits via paintings, music, and stories. Her grandfather once shared the order’s secrets with an anthropologist, Dr. Jonathan Wick, who turned the Caribbean magic to his own foul ends. Now Wick wants to become the ultimate Shadowshaper by killing all the others, one by one. With the help of her friends and the hot graffiti artist Robbie, Sierra must dodge Wick’s supernatural creations, harness her own Shadowshaping abilities, and save her family’s past, present, and future.

The books have been optioned by Anika Noni Rose who also narrated the 1st audiobook.

The Talk

I wrote most of this a few months back, but I thought I might finish it up and post it for funsies! 


“There’s no shotgun on a sofa!”

As Marinette watched her two youngest children sprawl across the couch, Louis obnoxiously taking up as much room as possible and Bridgette primly seating herself atop his head, it was a real effort to keep from crying.

Maybe she was getting soft in her (not old, forty eight was still quite spry) age, but it was always times like these, when they all sat down as a family to talk, that made her remember the earlier days. The days where baby Bridgette was a permanent fixture to her hip and Louis was little more than a streak of blonde hair as he zoomed around the house. The years their house had been filled with not two children but four, each of them unique and talented and an absolutely perfect blend of her and Adrien.

(Don’t get her wrong, Marinette was proud that she’d raised Emma and Hugo to be such self-sufficient young adults, but damn if she didn’t still get a little misty eyed every time she passed their empty bedrooms.)

“Alright settle down,” Marinette began, swatting her son’s feet off the table with practiced ease, “Time for family meeting.”

She cleared her throat.

“Since you two are both teenagers now, your father and I thought it was time to discuss some things with you.”

Two mischievous smiles dropped, shattering on the floor.

“Oh god,” Bridgette breathed, eyes flooding with dread, “Please tell me you aren’t-“

“I got the banana!” Adrien announced as he exited the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear. Louis and Bridgette let loose synchronized shrieks, then transitioned into wailing as Marinette produced a foil square from her pocket.

“Why do you have a condom?” Louis groaned, hands dragging down the sides of his tomato-tinted face.  “You two haven’t done that since Bridgette was conceived.” His eyes widened in abject horror. “Right? Oh god please tell me you don’t still…”

He trailed off, silently begging his parents to confirm they were, in fact, on a 16 year chastity streak.

As Adrien plopped down unto the couch next to his wife, the expression he threw his son somehow managed to be both pitying and smug. “You really think we go to bed early every Sunday night because we’re tired?”

The teens let loose another synchronized retch, Bridgette slapping her hand over her ears and Louis spitting a string of curses vulgar enough to earn him a sharp look from sailor Marinette herself.

“Sex is normal and healthy,” she admonished, trying to keep her face passive despite the grin resting on the edge of her lips.

(She could still remember the mortification she’d felt the day her own parents had given her this talk, but found that being on the other end of things was downright funny.)

“Not at your age it isn’t,” Bridgette whined from behind her pillow.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, “You’ll break a hip.”

“That’s kinnda the goal,” Marinette said beneath a cough, earning two more horrified “Maman!”’s and a fistbumps from her husband.

“That’s it!” Bridgette declared, pushing up from the couch, “I’m flying into the sun.”

Adrien hooked her by the waist, pulling her back down to her seat. “Not before you learn proper condom application you don’t.”

Drawing upon years of being the baby of the family, Bridgette stuck her bottom lip out in that trademark pout, hoping it’d been enough to crack her father’s notoriously weak resolve. “But it’s weeeeeird,” she whined, throwing in the boo-boo eyes for good measure. “Besides, I already know how-“

She shut her mouth so hard her fangs clicked.

Three other mouths hung open.

(Listen, it wasn’t her fault some of the vamp kids she’d met while visiting her grandpas had given her plasma-fruit flavored condoms! It wasn’t her fault Dom had agreed to be her Guinea pig, sweating bullets as she’d lowered her razor-sharp mouth around him! She was a curious girl, okay?! So sue her!)

“And just when did this happen?!” Louis exploded, taking on the role of protective father as Adrien sat dumbstruck across the living room. “Was it that Bourgeois bastard?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my Feli-bug like that!” Bridgette deflected, poking a sharp nail to the center of his chest.

“OOOOO I’m gunna bake Casper the frigid ghost a nice batch of garlic cookies and deliver them on a silver platter!”

“Louis shut up!”

“She… already knows?” Adrien murmured, staring vacantly at the rug. “How… w-why does she already know??”

“Siri?” Louis asked, hoisting his phone high enough to evade his vertically-challenged sister, “Where is the nearest place to get a wooden stake?”

“How old is she?” Adrien’s hands carded through his white-blonde (almost silver) hair. “How old am I???”

A pillow went sailing, followed shortly after by a streak of yellow and black. The banana was smashed on the floor. Alya wandered in from next door, only to walk right back out.

“Mom, control your idiot son!”

“Mom, control your slutty-“


‘She always did have my upper body strength,’ Marinette mused, idly stirring her tea as she watched her daughter bludgeon her son with a couch cushion.

Adrien- who at this point seemed to have moved past his mini-midlife crisis -sprung to his feet, confiscating both pillow and cell phone (“The nearest steakhouse is 3.4 miles away.”) as he hauled his hissing kittens apart.

“No hitting!” he admonished, plopping the world’s first bright red honeybee on one end of the couch. “And no calling your sister- or any Lady!- a slut,” he continued, sticking a rumpled butterfly on the other. “Now sit still and learn, unless you want any unplanned pregnancies in your future.”

“Pssh, yeah right,” Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes as he slumped back into the cushion, “Like that’ll ever happen…”

Five years later, when he found himself sitting on that very same couch with a squirming toddler pinned to his hip, Louis made sure to take notes when his parents produced a second banana.

I wrote an unbeta’d baby bit on the plane today based on my own theories and speculation for CS post 7x02. Even though they found their HEA, I can’t help but add a little angst to Killian Jones’ life. Sorry?

Fighting Fate


“So what are you hoping for, a boy or a girl?”

It’s a question that comes up often now that word of Emma’s pregnancy is public knowledge. Like most expectant parents, he parrots back the answer, “I could hardly care what our babe is, as long as he or she is healthy, I’ll love them regardless” hoping that his voice doesn’t betray his true feelings regarding the matter of his child’s biological sex.

Killian Jones isn’t lying when he says that he will love his child regardless of how he or she is born. Boy or girl, the knowledge of their mere existence is miracle enough to bring him to his knees. But, he’s a superstitious man and the fates have conspired against his family and loved ones one too many times to make him quake in his boots over one thing – a daughter.

Once upon a time, he hadn’t been afraid. In fact, if pressed, Killian might have admitted he wished for a daughter. He can picture her perfectly – Emma’s hair, his eyes – a perfect combination of both. A girl would mean one of each for Emma, a son and a daughter, and gods does his wife deserve to have everything life would have to offer.

But then Killian met him, and everything changed.

He can recall with distinct clarity the moment he felt as if he were looking into the mirror several years in the future, encountering his older self from Emma’s wish, alive and real and broken. And then all had come to light – the other man, the other him, had a daughter, but also lost one.

It’s a tale that’s haunted him for the past few months. He doesn’t share his anxieties with Emma, unwilling to add extra stress to her pregnancy. They had tried for so long and had their hearts shattered over the years in an effort to have a child, that Killian is unwilling to add any unnecessary pressure if he can avoid. After all, he doesn’t know if his fears could ever come to light. He only theorizes, but gods, he prays to whichever god will listen that he’s wrong.

He can’t help but wonder that if he and Emma have a daughter, that the fates might conspire to steal her away – lock her in a tower, place her in a wardrobe and whisk her realms away. He knows not everything is the same between he and his other self, but enough is to make him question just what his and Emma’s future hold. The other Killian Jones has his face, his hook, and his name. If they share the same past, could they also share the same future?

Logically, he knows there are differences. In this world, he has Emma. If the child growing inside Emma proves to be a girl, he knows the science enough to know that she wouldn’t be the same as the one sired by his other self. But Killian also knows that though the DNA, as he’s learned, is different, some things are always the same. Snow White bites a poisoned apple. Sleeping Beauty falls under a sleeping curse. Cinderella loses her glass slipper. Could he be fated to have a daughter and lose her, no matter the realm?

It’s something he can’t bear to find out. Killian isn’t sure how he would survive failing both Emma and their child. After everything Emma suffered with Henry, he will not let her miss more years with her second child. And he, himself, refuses to allow his child to grow up like he and Emma had – alone, scared, and without a set of loving parents.

He would die to keep his family safe, already has done it before. He prays the opportunity never arises, and perhaps, perhaps a son might prevent that. But fate’s a strange mistress, and it’s with Emma gripping his hook, he learns just who his child might be.

“Congratulations! It looks like you’re having a girl.”

A Different Fate (Elriel Fluff)

So I read these elriel pregnancy headcanons by @fck-tamlin and @sparkleywonderful again the other day and I couldn’t stop myself from writing this little drabble. (Starts off a little angsty but ends up fluffy.)

Elain knew the pain of heartbreak well. She’d suffered through the loss of a mother and a father. She’d lost a mortal life. She knew what it was to lose love.

But this… this pain was another thing entirely. Nothing could quite explain this kind of heartbreak. Her chest felt like it had been cleaved open, her entire body numb with realization. It was one thing to lose something she’d already had… but to never even have it in the first place?

By the Cauldron, it hurt

She should’ve known. She should’ve known. There had been nothing in their future. Even when she’d first gotten her visions, she’d seen her sisters grow big with children. She’d seen Feyre glow with her pregnancy, Rhysand always close at hand. She’d seen Nesta grumble through hers and bicker with Cassian for causing her so much discomfort. (Though their hands were always linked through this, a show of unity for all – including for their unborn child. Both her sisters hid surprisingly soft sides.) 

But she’d seen nothing of pregnancy or children in her and Azriel’s future. There would be no babies with Azriel’s beautiful wings and her pointed ears. There would be no brood of children running wild around them, their laughter helping to heal their parents’ oldest wounds.

Mother above, she should’ve known. After all, both her sisters now had children and yet Elain and Azriel had been trying for longer than both of them combined with nothing to show for it. And the future, always open to her, had been suspiciously blank in just this one regard. 

Their visit to the healers only confirmed what Elain and Azriel had begun to suspect. 

Incompatible. The word rang in her ears. They were incompatible. Infertile. Barren.

And so Elain’s heart – the heart that had ached for children and family ever since she was little girl – broke. 

And Azriel, he was just as distraught and blamed himself. He thought it was his fault – after all, he wasn’t the mate the Cauldron had chosen for her. The worst part of it was that, in a way, he wasn’t wrong. They were incompatible in this base sense… But she and Lucien wouldn’t have been, not in terms of children. 

Still, that was neither here nor there. That future was long gone. Because when Elain pictured home, she saw wings wrapped protectively around her and felt scarred hands holding her tightly. She saw smiles wreathed in shadows and heard a gentle, patient voice coaxing her through her every vision.

She saw Azriel, every part of him, good and bad – her constant, loving companion throughout their eternity.

So even in the midst of her heartbreak, of her grief, she held on tight to him. She would not let this break them apart. Neither, she was sure, would he.

And they didn’t. There were hard days of course, when their house was too empty and when the nursery they’d so lovingly prepared years before seemed to taunt them. They had each other, however, and they had all their nieces and nephews to fill their hearts. 

Feyre and Rhys’ son was first – a fickle boy with all the sass of his parents combined, who always drifted to Elain’s soothing presence. Feyre and Rhys’ daughter was quiet in comparison, but could throw a tantrum like no other. She’d been a fussy baby as well, though that was quickly solved with Azriel’s magic touch – Cassian laughingly called his Illyrian brother the baby whisperer. Elain’s brother-in-law quickly stopped laughing when his own twins were born, however, especially when it seemed that Azriel was the only one who could keep both babies calm at the same time. 

Soon enough her and Azriel’s house became the go-to place for all their nieces and nephews, the children always happy to spend time with their favorite aunt and uncle. Despite not being the future she’d always wanted, Elain found she was happy, content. She wouldn’t mind spending her forever like this, a guiding hand for a her sisters’ children and with Azriel – her husband and her dearest friend – always there with her.

No, that wouldn’t be a bad life at all. 

But then Azriel came back home one day with something that Elain had never seen in her visions. A baby. A little Illyrian boy with hazel eyes and a wrecked wing. Abandoned in the forest for his perceived imperfections. 

“They left him out there. They left him for the wolves… all because he isn’t like the rest of them,” Azriel explained, growling. He cradled the child with the utmost care, his eyes shadowed with anger and grief. But there was also hope in that gaze. Hope that Elain found echoed in her own heart. Hope that she thought long lost. Azriel raised his eyes to her. “They left him to die because they think he’s weak. But they never even gave him a chance. He needs a chance to live, to grow up and become strong… he deserves that much.”

Elain saw the pain of her husband’s past in his expression, in the protective way he held the baby. And when she turned her eyes to the little boy, to his deformed wing and his perfect baby cheeks, she knew. She felt it in her very bones.

“Then we’ll be his chance. And he’ll be ours,” Elain said, feeling the rightness of it in her chest. She laid a hand on top of where Azriel’s lay on the boy’s little chest, leaning into his side as she peered down at the baby – their baby.

“He is ours, isn’t he?” Azriel asked her, voice raw with hope. Elain could practically see him falling in love with this little boy. 

She smiled. “Yes, he is. He’s our son.”

Azriel grinned back at her, his entire face alight with his joy. “Our son,” he repeated, almost dumb with happiness. “We have a son.”

As if he couldn’t help himself, he cuddled their son closer, dropping a lingering kiss to his little forehead. Elain’s heart ached viscerally for her husband. He never thought he’d have this. Finally, Azriel looked back up at her, his eyes shining.

“I think it’s about time he met his mama, don’t you?”

Elain felt overcome with emotion, her throat thick with tears as Azriel handed her their son for the very first time. Her baby curled instinctively in her arms, slowly blinking open beautiful hazel eyes. “Hello there, baby,” Elain whispered, utterly awed. “I’m your mama. We’ve been waiting for you for a long, long time.”

Her son cooed at her and then the future opened up with thousands of possibilities before her very eyes, visions flying past as if tied to the life she held so delicately. But there was one thread that Elain yearned for. Because Elain saw their family in that thread… and it was not just built up of their friends and siblings and nieces and nephews. No, their house could be filled with the laughter of their children. Not just this beautiful little boy in her arms – their son who Azriel would teach to fly despite the odds – but several others. She saw a little girl for them one day, with Illyrian wings and a wicked smile. She saw another girl, this one High Fae, her ears delicately pointed and bearing the scars of mistreatment on her back. And then she saw their last, a third girl who was neither High Fae nor Illyrian, but rather a so-called lesser fairy with skin that glowed like the stars. (Estelle, they’d call her, star.)

And their son would love all of his little sisters with the fierce loyalty he learned from his father and the gentle sweetness he learned from his mother. He would take to the skies with the oldest, help their second girl through her nightmares, and defend the youngest from all those who would call her ‘lesser’.

Elain saw the family of her future clearly for the very first time… tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks, unstoppable. She hugged her boy a little closer. He would have a beautiful life. She would make sure of it.

Eventually, Azriel’s soft voice brought her back to the present, back to the boy she was rocking gently.

“What should we call him?” he asked, coming to stand behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist. He ran finger down their son’s downy tuft of brown hair.

Elain leaned back into her husband and smiled. “Let’s name him Darien,” she said. “It means–”

“Gift,” Azriel whispered. “Yes. That sounds right. Darien.”

Our gift.

Because, that’s what he was. A gift. One she would treasure for all eternity. And one day his sisters – Semira (who would fly faster than she would walk), Isa (whose scars would never batter down her strength), and Estelle (who would learn to be proud of her star-blessed skin) – would join them. But for now, for now, Elain simply held her son and leaned into the endless comfort of Azriel’s hands.

The One

IMAGINE: If you asked Steve about his dream girl, his ‘the one’, he would have never described her, never even would have thought of her…funny how things work out.

[gif is not mine. based on the poem with the same name by lang leav. requests are open. this one shot is the first part to however many poetry inspired one shots i do.]  

warnings: none

words: 2.3 k+

‘I don’t want you to love me because I’m good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you are looking for…’

There was something in the way that she walked, she talked or the way she did anything that set him on fire. He’s never met a more infuriating person. A more different person than he was.

“I just don’t get why you’re being so emotional about this,” she rolled her eyes as she watched Steve sigh once again.

“(Y/N)…” Steve looked at the woman in front of him. The thick fashion magazine held in her hand, “Just because it’s not about fashion or tearing someone down does not mean that you shouldn’t care about this.”

She bit her lip, “It’s just Tony.”

“Exactly, he’s going to break her heart,” he explained. “She’s only a kid (Y/N).”

(Y/N) sat down next to him, “Look Rogers, it’s their life and she wants to be with him then let her. Just support her.”

“He’s just going to use her,” Steve spoke quietly.

In an instant (Y/N)’s demeanor change. Long gone was the somewhat caring girl, it was now replaced by her usual stance around him -cold, hard and unfeeling. “You watch your mouth Rogers, because I swear to god if you throw Tony’s past in his face, I will hurt you.” Her grip tightened on the magazine.

Steve turned around and looked into her eyes. There was anger underlying it, fire in her eyes. “She’s like a sister to me. He’s the type of person that can hurt someone.”

(Y/N) stood up sharply, and through gritted teeth she spoke, “And he’s like a brother to me Rogers.” She leaned forward, him leaning as she got closer, “You watch your mouth around me.” (Y/N) moved back and started walking away. “By the way, he’s the type of person that can only hurt someone if they’ve hurt him first, so maybe don’t judge on him when you don’t know all the facts.”

She walked faster to the door, slamming it as hard as she can.

‘… I want to be the one that you didn’t see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed in love. Who makes you feel reckless and out of control. The one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to…’

If you told Steve Rogers that one day he’ll wake up with a strange inkling that will soon lead to the discovery that he found (Y/N) attractive and that he actually liked her, he would have probably laughed in your face and politely say that ‘you’re crazy.’

That was the conundrum that he found himself in as he watched her laugh with Bucky and Sam. Of course he still found her annoying and judgemental, and the complete opposite of himself, as well as what he found attractive. But watching her laugh with his two best friends, her head thrown back without any care, her hips jutting out as she told off Sam for doing something stupid. There was just something about her that he couldn’t explain.

“Why do you keep staring at her?” Pietro asked as he stood next to Steve.

Steve turned to Pietro, “I just wanted to know how such a small girl can contain so much evil in her.”

“She’s not that bad,” Pietro started. “She’s only like that whenever she’s around you.”

“She criticizes everything that I do, from the way I walk or my clothes -did you know that she hates me wearing plaid? I apparently have the entire of plaid in my wardrobe.” He paused and looked at her again, “It’s just she’s so different from the women that I’m used to.”

“Why does that have to be a bad thing?”

Steve took a while  to come up with his answer. Opening his mouth to voice out something but every time he did Steve felt that it wasn’t the right thing to say. Finally he came to the conclusion, “It’s not.”

“Don’t you realize that maybe why you hate her is because you like her?” Pietro spoke, tilting his head towards her direction. When Steve didn’t speak, Pietro broke out into a huge grin and chuckled, “Fuck, you’re hell bent crushing on her! That’s why you’re staring at her so much with that stupid-loved up look on your face!” Steve glared at Pietro who wasn’t deterred by the intimidating look on the super soldier.

As Pietro walked away he saw that (Y/N)’s conversations with the boys has finished and started walking over to where he was. He saw her smile at him and he probably thought that she forgot that he was Steve Rogers.

“Rogers,” she greeted. She looked him up and down, “Not wearing plaid I see.”

“What is it with you and the plaid?” He groaned. He honestly couldn’t understand it. Plaid isn’t that bad and he didn’t have that many plaid shirts.

She shrugged, “I have something for you.” She walked past him, knowing that he would follow her even though she didn’t ask him. Her aura commanded him. Steve rolled his eyes. Typical.

When they reached her bedroom, he looked around apprehensively taking in her bedroom. It was nice, it was minimal barely any decorations. He walked to her table where a cork table was placed. He smiled when he saw that it was pictures of her and the Avengers scattered around what he guessed was mementos. “You kept this?” He pointed at the ticket stub in bottom left corner, one that was hidden behind everything.

(Y/N) turned around and saw that he was touching the ticket stub gingerly, “I had a good time.” She remembered the day vividly, it was when everyone was on their mission and she was stuck at the compound because she broke her arm, while Steve was struck with a fever. She was bored and she was stuck babysitting him, so she decided to take him to the MET when he was feeling better. Up until that day she didn’t know that they had anything in common, other than the fact that he was her match when it came to verbal sparring.

He found out that art is one of her biggest passions and that she wanted to become an art historian but certain things happened that led her to follow in her father’s footsteps. Steve remembered thinking that maybe she wasn’t the shallow, vapid girl he thought she was. Like an art piece there was always something meaningful behind everything.

Their days were spent talking about his past and how he felt about the future, watching movies from his time and her being surprised when he quoted Casablanca. He hesitantly revealed to her that it was one of the first movies that he saw when he came out of the ice.

Everything was fine until the others got back and they were back at their old habits again, though this time it felt less personal and more for a show.  

“Aha!” She proclaimed as she opened a drawer and pulled out a neatly wrapped present. It was blue and white, with a red bow on top. “Gotta have that Captain America theme,” she winked at him and passed him the present.

He opened the present slowly, trying carefully not to rip the paper. Once he saw what was wrapped, words got stuck in his throat. “(Y/N)…”

“Don’t start crying on me Rogers,” she warned but there was no malice in her voice.

He pulled the paper away. It was his drawing that he did of everyone, a drawing of a photograph that she and he both proudly displayed in their bedrooms. He thought he lost it when Natasha did her usual random clearing of everything in everyone’s rooms. “This is beautiful.” He stroked the frame, it was gold and one of those smaller frames that held priceless arts in the museums. “Thank you so much.”

She shrugged, thinking nothing of it. “Guess my barging into people’s rooms is a good thing.” She walked over to him, her heart filling with warmth as he gazed and touched the picture frame. “At least your abnormally large hands can create something good.”

As Steve left her room, he found himself in another conundrum. How did he get into this situation? How did he manage to find a person that was the complete opposite of him, the untraditional girl who set his soul on fire. The girl who he disliked with so much passion, the one who constantly bickered with him, manage to make him feel like he’s never felt before?

‘… I don’t want to be the one who tucks you into bed -I want to be the reason why you can’t sleep at night.’

When Steve was a young child he knew what love meant. It meant being there for the person that you cared for. It was easy. It was safe. There were no fights, if there was there was it would just be little bickers. Steve would come home, greet his wife and children and they would live happily ever after. He dreamt for that life, he yearned for it, even after he came out of the ice.

Then she came into his life and turned everything upside down. She was a constant thorn in his side that manage to somehow, overtime, turn into one of the most beautiful flowers he has ever seen. Maybe she wasn’t a thorn after all, maybe she was just a particularly prickly bud that he judged based on appearance, but after he got a closer look, after it took time, she turned into something else.

“Weren’t we supposed to have this massive epiphany that you liked me? Or you know someone makes this giant I like you speech and this is why I like you?” (Y/N) spoke as she chopped the carrot.

Steve shrugged, “You don’t like grand gestures.”

(Y/N) turned to face him, hand clutching the knife, “Excuse me! I do too like grand gestures, as long as they don’t embarrass me,” she started listing of things and Steve found himself looking at her. Really looking at her. The only time that he paid attention was when she pinched him. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Careful with that knife (Y/N),” he plucked it out of her hands and she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have a great epiphany because the feeling was always there so I just woke up one day and went ‘oh, I like her’,” he finished his speech with a casual shrug.

He went back to chopping the onions, his peripheral vision allowed him to see that she was still in the same position. She picked up the knife and started chopping the carrots. “You’re such a sap.” Steve smiled as she said those words, it was her basically saying that she liked him as well.

“I don’t get why we can’t have steak (Y/N)!” Pietro yelled as he picked his food with his fork. “There are proteins that we need.”

“Because Tony decided that he wants to try vegetarianism,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “So we have to cater for the almighty Iron Man.” She threw a bean at him which he caught and smiled at her.

Steve sat next to her watching as she kept making faces at Tony, and not at all enjoying her food. He made a mental note to take her to Taco Bell after dinner. Maybe it was that moment that made him know that he really, truly, deeply in love with her. With her hair cascading down her face, and she made an aggravated noise when it fell in front of her face. Or maybe it was the way that she got along with other people, or maybe. There were too many maybe’s what he did know was that he wanted to say it out loud for everyone to know.

“Excuse me,” he spoke loudly as he stood up. “I just wanted to let everyone to know that I love (Y/N).” Steve could feel the glare from (Y/N), and the amused stares from the others. “I love her because she secretly loves me in plaid, she said so. The fact that she cries whenever that giraffe ad comes on, I love her-,” he didn’t get to finish as (Y/N) yelled at him. ‘

“STEVE GRANT ROGERS!” (Y/N) stood up, her face red due to embarrassment, but she couldn’t help but feel giddy and light inside.

“I also love her when she screams out my name just like that,” he winked at everyone and made a mad dash to the door.

“ROGERS!” With an ungraceful stand she began running after him, but not before flipping off everyone in the room, causing them to laugh louder.

She finally caught up to him, took her shoe off and hit him, “Did you just throw your shoe at me?” Steve turned around amused.

“I cannot believe you did that!”

“You said you loved grand gestures,” he teased as he picked up the shoe and started walking towards her.

“I specifically said that I hated grand gestures.”

He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her, “But I love you so I should get a pass for that.”

“The only people that get a pass for embarrassing me are the people that I love,” she smirked at him, hoping that he got what she was saying. She watched as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

“You love me,” she scowled at the shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re an idiot.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe I somewhat love you.” (Y/N) pressed her lips against his. Steve tightened his arms around her and smiled into the kiss.

“Guys, oh my god! Gross!” Sam yelled as he walked into the room and saw the couple heavily making out. Sam made a face and began gagging. “Get a room!” He made a disgusted noise and yelled at them once more and left the room.

Amethyst singing “tower of mistakes” for like a minute only for her feelings never to get addressed ever again is probably the best representation to how Amethyst gets treated in the show.

According to “reformed”, despite Amethyst and Pearl reconciling in “on the run” she still feels like she’s lesser to Pearl, but literally when the episode ends, that’s the end of it. When we find out Amethyst feels lesser to Steven and overall worthless during the Jasper return story arc, for one, Garnet and Pearl don’t know anything about it, haven’t even confronted or consoled her at all despite Garnet having future vision and knowing Amethyst’s past history with self worth issues. When they find out about smoky quartz’s self depreciating jokes in “know your fusion” nothing comes from it. Steven was the only one there for her and luckily for Steven, his problems gets resolved, or at least addressed, later on in “mindful education” and “lion 4”, but I ask what help did Amethyst get? Nothing. Amethyst clearly doesn’t know how to get help herself and needs others to do so for her, not only has this problem never been even addressed, but no one tries to help her and the only help they do give is temporary. I truly believe the best thing the writers can do for Amethyst is to give weight to her problems and allow her to grow as a character who can fix their own problems.


For the Lapidot Week 4 ! 

Day 3 (June 20th): Disney Day/Ghibli Day

I didn’t had time to do all the days, so I only made fan arts for the Disney Day and the Past/Present/Future day :c 

I have choosen to do a crossover with The Treasure Planet because, it’s one of my favorite Disney movie and it’s so underrated contrary to all the others. Plus, Lapis and Peridot relationship is like “cat and dog” (momocon 2017 ref) ;) And just, I love Delbert and Amelia ! (And just, imagine Steven as Jim and Jasper as John Silver, it’s so perfect !)


Lapis : “Doctor, you have…wonderful eyes…” 
Peridot : “SHE LOST HER MIND !” 
Steven : “How can we help her ?!”
Peridot : “Dang it Steven ! I’m an astronomer, not a doctor ! I mean I’m a doctor, but I’m not that kind of doctor. I have a doctorat that’s not the same thing, you can’t help people with a doctorat, you just… SIT HERE AND YOU’RE A USELESS CLOD !” 

Bellamy and Clarke reunion

Bellamy and Raven stood by the window in the ark for the last time glancing at each other.

“You ready for this?” Raven asks Bellamy.

“No,” he pauses, “but I never will be.”

Raven nods at him and looks away. She gets it… Bellamy isn’t ready to go back to Earth without Clarke. He couldn’t have done it without her the first time and now he is forced to. Six years wasn’t enough time to heal his wounds.

They all get in the rocket. There are emotions swirling in everyone as they prepare for their descent back to Earth. They all watched Raven intently as she went through her pre-flight check for launch.

“Ignition system… check… avionics system… check…” Raven runs through everything in her mind. “Okay, time for take off.”

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Room Analysis: Rose Quartz

Anonymous said:
What is the point of Rose Quartz’s room? Not as a narrative device, which it functions wonderfully as a reflective and therefore revealing mirror, but in universe, what was its purpose? Why would Rose Quartz have her room be able to form simulations?

I think this is a good question. When we look at the rooms of the gems, they are their rooms in every sense of the word. Not only do the Crystal Gems own these spaces, but as we’ve seen from Barn Mates, all gems want to feel as though they have a space of their own. 

What I think is that it isn’t necessarily having a physical space itself that really makes the room compelling. Rather, it’s the idea that in a world that is still foreign, sometimes hostile, and always uncontrollable, a room is a space in which freedom and control can be exercised at the same time.

This is more prominently observed in some Gems’ rooms over others. But it’s a recurring thing that is evident enough to warrant further analysis.

Because the space is so personal, we get to see something of the characters that at times, aren’t even revealed to the characters themselves. With that, let’s kick off this new series with Rose’s room.

1. The Imagery of Pink Clouds

When we look at Rose’s room in particular, it does indeed appear consistent with her character, by the sheer colour scheme alone already tells us how much of Rose’s the room is. 

And I think this contrasts with the way the other Gems’ rooms are presented. Characters who maintain a physical presence in the show, like the other Crystal Gems and the Homeworld “defectors” have a more subtle sign that a room is theirs. For instance, Pearl does have the whitish blues in her room, but it could also be mistaken for a room in the Sea Spire without proper context. Amethyst’s room in the temple has piles of purple but the dominant background colours also involve blue. And the Burning Room, which is Garnet’s space, is largely devoid of the colours in her aesthetic. The same can be said for the Barn, Peridot, and Lapis.

On the other hand, Rose doesn’t have her own presence in the show. Her influence in events and the way characters interact is in no part facilitated by present actions. Instead, reminders of her exert a strong influence on the cast. And it would then make sense that each reminder is very prominent and very apparent. 

Part of this presentation involves how the clouds are the same pink as her hair, and her gemstone. I would say that thematically, the overtness of colour indicates a reinforcement of Rose’s identity. While the other Gems are more comfortable with the subtlety of their identity being revealed in their space, Rose needed to be reminded of it every time she entered her comfort zone. 

Rose went through a lot of changes in her life. From leaving her rank on Homeworld, to initiating the Rebellion, to remaining on Earth, to meeting Greg, to deciding to have Steven, her roles continually changed.

That the other main motif is clouds reinforces this. Clouds are transient. They form through condensation and they dissipate. They are moved around by external forces such as the temperature and wind. 

In that, it would make sense that Rose had nothing in her room. It shows that her person was not beyond just letting things go, and letting the forces around her show her what her next step would be. 

We know that’s just the surface though. We know that Rose did struggle with the things she did, that she wanted to make things right but really didn’t know how. Rose wanted to be able to let go. And to some extent she was successful. She didn’t rock the boat she was on too much and was able to leave a lot of loose ends untouched. Chief among them was her own friend and comrade.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t completely shut off how she felt about the past. Her many attempts at healing the corrupted gems show that her past did weigh on her. Trying to heal them may have been a way to assuage herself of the guilt, dragging everyone into the war she started.

On their own, the absence of anything in the room may have served the purpose of centring  Rose. The quiet of her room may have helped her cope with the clutter in her mind. There were so many things that she didn’t say and didn’t try to say.

The room is a sharp break from who she was as a character: Complicated. Even when the weather in the room becomes tumultuous, there is still nothing there. Nothing to get whipped by the wind or tossed around by the draft. But it does show us who Rose wanted to be, or at least what she was trying to become.

2. Projections, Fabrications, and Simulations

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