little horizon zero dawn things:

– Aloy leans forward when riding her horse (sorry, strider) up a hill and back when riding down, like youre supposed to, despite never having ridden or even seen a real horse in her life

– the mount machines all have properly animated gaits, two-beat trot three-beat canter four-beat gallop etc

– the little smile she makes when it’s snowing or raining and she puts her hands out you complain about the rain but i know the truth

– the pine saplings near pitchcliff

– studious pallas

– the poetry inside the metal flowers

– aloy’s little comments to herself when she’s picking herbs/climbing ice/the weather changes/she slides down a hillside/etc

– if you ride right up to the cutscene trigger while tracking dervahl the game animates her dismounting and patting the strider’s side as part of the cutscene

– tallnecks, esp. how they’re totally oblivious to you scrambling all over them

– the fact that you don’t need the focus to track because the environmental clues (footprints, blood smears, cart tracks, etc) are actually there

– sylens sends you a bunch of information and then there’s about a second’s worth of pause and he just sends you the definition of corporation as if that’s the only thing that might be confusing

– those two mysterious named rabbits up above devil’s thirst seriously what’s the deal with them

– the really gorgeous sunsets

– the crouch idle where she rocks back so it looks like she’s sitting

– going back to visit Rost and you actually can tell him about your journeys (i cried SO hard)

– npcs comment on what you’re wearing

– the little surprised hop-jump-look animation the watchers make when you throw a rock near them

– overridden ravagers rumbling and following you around

– the fact that overridden machines have unique animations for fighting other machines as opposed to you


– the sound the metal flowers make

– Aloy’s little shrug when she drops the safe through the floor

– aloy shutting down all the dudes who try to flirt with her

– seriously she’s so blunt i love it the world needs more blunt pragmatic heroines

– “it’s a door”

– the hair physics and the way the sun catches in the edges of her hair

– big machines knock over trees when they go into forested areas and it’s terrifying

– the way the fog moves over the ground in waves

– aloy’s crooked teeth and bushy eyebrows and slightly chubby face and she’s stocky but also ripped from years of hunting like she looks like a person shes perfect

– the fact that the mount machines have the same base body but slightly different sounds and idle animations

– did i mention studious pallas? i love him he is Trying his Best

Substituting with “anything” (a quartz and rosemary-inspired rant)

Apparently this is the month of me sticking my foot in places I’ll likely regret. But I feel like this really damages the learning process for a lot of witches and needs addressing. So today I’d like to talk about this thing being told to new witches way too often: that they can use “anything” as a substitution if they don’t have X ingredient for, say, a spell jar or whatever.

Can I just say, as someone whose practice focuses heavily on herbal work, how crazy that makes me?

I am not saying spells are set in stone and substitutions can’t be made. They totally can be.

I am not saying that this here fancy spell with all these fancy, expensive ingredients can’t have a more accessible re-working done with more common ingredients. It probably can.

I am all about making spells work for less money, less time, and less privileged people. You tell me what you’ve got in your kitchen and yard, and I will help you find a way to make that into any-damn-thing you please.

I am not all about the elite-extra-special “old way” or some dead guy’s mandates on how to witch.

But when I see, “just use quartz/rosemary instead” as the generic advice for EVERYTHING, no matter what the missing component in question is, it makes me crazy.

What’s the purpose of using ingredient-based spells? No, not just for the aesthetic™. It’s to reduce the energy load on you by replacing it with stuff that ALREADY HAS a given energy, or focus.

So if you remove it and just stick a generic energy booster in there, what’s going to happen?

One of two things:

1. The spell doesn’t work as intended, because you took off a wheel and put a rocket where it used to be.

2. The spell does work as intended, but I’m willing to bet you feel the exact same drain you would have felt if you’d just done energy work… because that’s probably what you did (and a lot of people don’t realize that isn’t supposed to happen).

So while I’m not saying that you’re wrong and your spell didn’t work regardless of whatever generic substitutions you made, I am going to say that if that’s true, I wonder if you’re wasting a lot of materials in your practice.

The purpose of spell ingredients is to use the properties of the ingredient in order to add a specific energy to the spell, which reduces the burden on you to supply that specific energy, and to have highly consistent focus while doing so. If your spell calls for valerian, then there is something about valerian itself that is aiding the spell. You can’t simply swap it with cayenne and expect to get the same results. There are definitely things you COULD swap it with because they have similar properties, but not absolutely anything.

If you can swap the valerian with literally anything and get the same results, that likely means you are not actually using the valerian to help you cast the spell. You’re simply using your own energy and the herbs are set dressing.

And there’s most certainly nothing wrong with being adept at pure energy work. That’s a great skill to have as a witch. But it sure is a waste of herbs if you’re not actually using them, eh? I mean, a lot of these herbs we use aren’t cheap or readily available.

Why not just get rid of the set dressing and save yourself time and money and just do energy work? Or if you like your set dressing, use tools meant to amplify energy work, like a wand or a staff or something?

Also, I think there’s a certain level of damage being done when we tell witches who are trying to learn herbal work that anything is just the same as anything else and none of it matters.

The magical uses of herbs are often tied to their mundane uses. Let’s remember: cunning craft was the mother of medicine. To this very day, the magical uses of many herbs are tied to their physical affects. Even when they aren’t, they’re often a sort of hypersigil, and they’ve gained those associations through dozens or even hundreds of years of thousands or millions of people all imbuing them with the same purpose and energy. Most correspondences have a biological reasoning behind them, or have been basically sigilized by being used the same way thousands of times.

Exceptions and personal correspondences are a thing; I have a few myself. But these tend to be herbs that have been highly significant in my own life over a long period of time, and have consequently become a sort of personal sigil, as opposed to the cultural sigil of most broader correspondences. My personal correspondences tend to be things I have history with (even if it’s mundane), not just literally anything. Basically, I’ve overridden the cultural sigilization, by writing over it with my own over time. But that’s an exception.

It makes it impossible to learn herbal work – which is a totally different skill from energy work – if you’re proposing that none of it actually matters and it all works the same anyway. And furthermore, it’s pretty discouraging if a witch tries that, and then their spell fails, which I see with some regularity.

Witches read that they can replace “anything” with quartz or rosemary, and then they come back and say their spell is doing all kinds of weird stuff it shouldn’t be doing.

Well, I’m not surprised. The original ingredient was there to give the spell a specific property, and then someone told them to replace it with a neutral energy booster and not do anything to replace the loss of that specific property, or control all the unprogrammed energy.

So, the result is going to be a high-powered bouncy ball of a spell that just pings around doing random shit and putting holes in the wall. Because they didn’t give it anything except energy with no focus. Because you can’t just replace “anything” with quartz or rosemary.

That tripped me up for a while, as someone who relies a lot on tools. I’m an empath, and like a lot of drain-prone people, I find using ingredients helps reduce how drained I get by casting spells. Becoming adept at herbal work was really important for me to be able to cast at all with any consistency. I can DO energy work, but I don’t always wanna wind up spending the next day in bed, and that’s where tools help me.

It’s not very helpful to just say “replace it with anything.” That’s not how herb magic works.

Substitution can be done in most cases. But if you’re gonna remove a wheel, you need to add a different one that’s compatible with the car, not just strap a rocket to the axle.

So, long story short: I really wish people would stop saying you can substitute with “anything.” While I get that the intention is to try to make the craft more accessible, it just impedes people from learning how to do it with stuff that’s ACTUALLY accessible. I mean, what’s inaccessible about the stuff most people have in their kitchen? You can substitute for a lot with that!

While it is completely true that you don’t need ingredients to do a spell, it is also true that if you’re going to use ingredients, they matter. If they didn’t matter there’d be no point to using them.

If you find that you can substitute with “anything” and get the same results no matter what, then I think I can save you some time and money: just get an energy working tool instead!

Here are just a few of the parallels and echoes I really appreciate from the Black Sails finale:

  • the cook
  • Silver’s secret plan to protect Madi from the war echoing Miranda writing the letter to try and save Flint
  • Billy, Flint, the broken mast and wheeeeeeeee! Splash!
  • Rackham taking on the mantle of Anne, Vane and Blackbeard to go after Rogers in the way he moves
  • Billy’s scene with Madi mirroring Flint’s with Gates
  • Flint becoming to Silver and Madi what Thomas was to James and Miranda
  • Rackham’s legacy overridden yet again
  • And yet, Rackham also writing Rogers’ legacy
  • Madi smiling at Flint the way Eleanor used to when he done good
  • Silver’s speech in the forest echoing Miranda’s speech in the drawing room - the danger here is real
  • Flint’s “in the dark” speech echoing Miranda’s “in Boston” speech
  • “It was rage. It just wanted to see the world burn” - “You fight for the sake of fighting, because it’s the only state in which you can function”
  • “She’ll no longer be enough” - “There is no life here. There is no love here”.
  • the whole frigging Odyssey allegory coming full circle from season 1

And that’s only the finale. The whole show is made of echoes and parallels and I die.

anonymous asked:

Why don't you like Octavia?

All sorts of reasons, really.

Octavia is a reckless, naive, bratty girl who believes she’s a warrior without embodying the strength of mind, courage and intelligence of one. Kane said it best: “Lincoln taught you when not to kill.” She sees vengeance as justice, when oftentimes the two are so far apart, that having them as one is dangerous and damaging.

Don’t get me wrong, she was my favourite character in seasons one and two. I figured out how to recreate the grounder braids and I wore them for weeks; taking a good hour to get them all in the way I wanted. I loved her despite her flaws. She was strong and interesting and complex, and she fell in love with the grounder, and together the two of them were going to fight back to back forever.

But something I found was Octavia’s fatal flaw - one that is not her own fault, but Aurora’s. Octavia’s had a sheer lack of socialisation. If you ever want to research the nature vs nurture debate, do it, but nurture always wins out. Who we are is not our genes, it’s our experiences. As children, we are socialised by parents and teachers, friends and neighbours - they shape who we become, how we act. 

For example, my parents taught me table manners very strictly, but they didn’t for my older brother. Now, my brother doesn’t hold his knife and fork properly, he eats with his elbows on the table, and often uses his fork to cut his food, instead of the knife. I do none of the above. It’s called socialisation, and it teaches us how we act.

Octavia has had so little of it, that her first real experience of the world is when she hits the ground. I can’t fault her, necessarily, for this, but it does effect who she becomes. Octavia’s first experience of the world is Bellamy rebelling, is Jasper getting speared, is Murphy getting hanged, is Charlotte jumping off a cliff. It’s violence and danger and fighting and killing.

These are her only experiences, and so when she comes to problems like people not doing what she wants - she hasn’t learned patience and understanding. She’s learnt to kill that which does not go her way.

In season two, she hits Lincoln. They had the most beautiful relationship up until this moment - but Lincoln gets forced onto the Reaper drug. He’s forced into becoming a monster. He has to kill. I’m pretty sure cannibalism is involved, too. But he gets addicted to this drug because of the high - he gets addicted to a drug that he had no choice in taking. Octavia hits him because she thinks this is the best way to get him to stop. (And somehow this works, I don’t even know, but if you have a friend who is forced into being addicted to drugs, please don’t hit them to make them stop, it doesn’t work in the real world.)

Octavia also lectures him on his own culture. She lectures Lincoln, who has been a grounder his WHOLE LIFE, about his own culture, one that she has decided to join like a month ago.

In season three (I think), she hits Indra. There’s a pattern, by the way. There’s a pattern to the people she’s hitting. They’re all people of colour. They’re all people she perceives as family. They’re all people who are in significantly worse condition than she is. Lincoln was on his knees. Lincoln would never harm her. Indra was brutally injured and mourning the loss of her entire army, where she was the only survivor. Indra would absolutely hit Octavia back, but she couldn’t because she was on the ground, bleeding and injured, and Octavia knew that.

In season three, she beats Bellamy to a pulp. A man of colour. Chain to a rock. On his knees. Would never harm her. She beats him until his entire face is just covered in blood, and she does it to let her grief out. Because she thinks he deserves it, that she has a right to spell out her grief across her older brother’s face. This man had done nothing but protect her her entire life, nothing but love and care for her, and she does this. Then she says he’s “dead to” her. How fucking disgusting.

(I’m not even going to talk about people’s reaction to her, fandom etc. Just know that someone I know happily justifies and supports her actions and I refuse to discuss the show with them anymore, because I will not listen to someone thinking that she’s still strong and interesting and a good character anymore when she’s done such bad shit. Even in a show where everyone does morally grey things, Octavia’s awful. She’s not morally grey. She’s morally black and she knows it.)

In this season, Octavia has just completely overridden any other part of her with murder. She gives zero shits. She’s just gonna kill people, because that’s all she is now. She’s a murderer. I wouldn’t even call her an assassin - she’s just a coldblooded killer, not even told to kill these people but does it anyway.

And Gaia! She was going to kill Gaia before she found out she was Indra’s daughter. Because suddenly, suddenly, family is important to her? Mere weeks after beating the shit out of her older brother for something he didn’t even do?

When she fell off that cliff in the newest episode, most of me was really hoping that she’d just stay dead. I can’t deal with her on my screen anymore.

Phan fluff: hide and seek

‘Dan, the family’s coming over in a minute and you’re still in bed!’ said Phil walking into the bedroom. Dan was lying half asleep buried under the covers, he sighed.
'But it’s so warm and comfyyyyy’
'I’ll get the kids to jump on you when they come round’ Phil smirked looking down at his sleepy boyfriend. Dan yawned still making no attempt to move.
'Or how about I jump on you instead?..’
Phil dived onto the bed and pinned Dan down, Dan squirmed and complained.
'ahh hey! I was… I… get off me!’
'not unless you get up’ Phil looked down at him smugly.
'make me’ Dan sulked 'i’m not getting up even if you…’ Dan never got to finish that sentence. Phil began to tickle him mercilessly, Dan squealed uncontrollably with laughter and tried to push Phil off.
'Okay! Okay! I’m going, I’ll go get dressed’
Phil jumped off him triumphantly and giggled as Dan sighed walking into the bathroom.
'Hey you should keep the hobbit hair today, it looks good’

Around half an hour later the house was overridden with various members of Phil’s family, many of which Dan had barely ever even met. It wasn’t as if there was a special occasion or anything, that’s what Dan loved about the Lester’s, they simply decided that they hadn’t seen eachother in a while and decided to get together. Dan and Phil were in the kitchen with various family members, including Phil’s niece and nephew (the two Phil had threatened to make jump on the bed to get Dan up). Evie, a little five year girl was sat on the floor making animal noises and Jack, who was three, was simply stood staring up at Dan. Ever since Dan had joined the family everyone (Particularly the children) seemed to idolize him, and Phil often joked that they wouldn’t even come to visit him if Dan wasn’t here.
'Do you kids want to do anything then?’ Phil said looking down at them 'You look awfully bored’
The kids faces both lit up immediately.
'Hide and seek!’ they chanted. Phil chuckled 'come on then, we can start in the lounge’

Both kids, and Dan (Arguably the same thing) sat cross legged on the floor as Phil was deciding who should go first.
'Me and Dan are on a team, we’ll hide first, and you two will be on a team and try to find us’
'but you and Dan are grown ups! You can’t be on the same team’ sulked Evie.
'Well you and Jack are smaller so you can hide easier’ Dan stuck out his tongue at Evie, who stuck out hers back.
'Okay then we’ll count’ Said Jack excitedly.
'One… Two… Three’

Dan and Phil had been sat in Phil’s wardrobe for about ten minutes now and Dan kept telling Phil off for whispering to loud.
'Okay maybe it was a bit unfair of us to be on the same team’ said Phil, shuffling around in the rather uncomfortably squished closet.
'Hmm if I’d have known it would take this long I would have stayed in bed’
'Oh shut up you’ Phil punched Dan jokingly.
'Make me’ Dan smirked
'you’ve said that twice today’
'what are gonna do This time, tickle me again?’
'No’ Phil was smirking too 'How about this?’
Phil leaned into Dan and pressed their lips together. It caught Dan by surprise in the darkness, he let out a moan of  shock and leaned in closer returning the kiss. Phil pulled on Dan’s shirt, they were so engrossed in the kiss that neither of them noticed the door opening…

'found y…’ Evie and Jack were both stood outside the wardrobe, Jack this time, instead of staring up in awe at Dan was now staring at both of them and Evie didn’t seem to what to do. Dan and Phil turned a bright shade of red.

'Uncle Phil’ Evie seemed to have found her words now 'Are you and Dan in love?’

Alex Refusing to Stay in Bed

They kiss until they can’t breathe.

They kiss until they can’t stop laughing.

They kiss until their hands won’t stop roaming each other’s bodies, and they need to save that for home.

Their home.

Their home because they need to have more firsts, more firsts, more firsts.

All the firsts.


Because they love each other.

Because they’re in love.

Alex can’t stop smiling.

Neither can Maggie.

But they have to stop kissing, they have to stop touching each other, they have to stop repeating I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, or Alex will pass out. And, for that matter, so might Maggie, from sheer emotion.

Alex starts swinging her legs off the side of the bed, and Maggie startles.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Danvers, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Thought you said I was a badass.”

“You are, of course you are, but – “

“Well badasses can get out of bed.”

“No, badasses know when they need rest, and when they need to stay in bed.”

Alex pauses at that, tilting her head – a habit she’s acquired from the woman who loves her, loves her, god, she loves her, and Alex lets out an impromptu giggle – and she squints.

“Your logic makes sense, Sawyer.”

“Good,” Maggie nods, and starts to ease Alex back down by the shoulders.

Alex refuses.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to it!”

“Alex!” Maggie protests, but her laughter gives her away, because if Alex wants to get up, then she’s going to get up, just like she held on. 

She held on.

She held on.

“Make yourself useful, Sawyer, and help a woman out here,” Alex commands breathlessly, and Maggie is helpless for her.

Helpless for her, and that helplessness is the best thing she’s ever, ever felt.

“I’d like you to note my objection,” she murmurs, even as she can’t stop smiling, as Alex loops an arm over her shoulder, as she loops an arm behind Alex’s waist, and they shift, and they stand slow, steady. 


“Noted and respectfully disregarded, Detective,” Alex flirts, and Maggie has never, ever been so happy to be overridden in her life.

When people try to discount Padme’s love for Anakin they completely ignore the fact that she says “stop come back I love you” even after she realizes that he’s committed murder and that he has delusions of grandeur where they become co-dictators.

Sure, it’s a desperate, emotional plea and not a promise that everything will return to normal. Not saying that. What I am saying is that she still loved him and believed there was good in him even after he destroyed the very republic that some people want to believe she cherished above and beyond anything else.

I’m set off because I see this idea always on my dash that Padme being distraught over Anakin is ~weak~ but being distraught over a fallen political system is strong. Let her love her problematic husband ffs. It’s not like the republic wasn’t problematic itself so basically you’re pitting a flawed human being against a flawed political system and saying “well I can respect this woman only if she loves the political system more than the person.”

Also, Anakin himself thinks that she’s lying when she insists that she loves him. Do you really want to align yourself with Full On Dark Side Anakin on this matter? Anakin who has lost all touch with reality at this point? Saying Padme didn’t love him is saying all his paranoia was justified. Why is everyone accepting of the fact that Obi Wan loved Anakin despite it all yet I constantly see Padme’s love being put into question. Do I just follow too many Obikin shippers or what? I don’t know.

I’m so annoyed by claims that she loved the republic more and that it was the true reason her heart was broken. Because I feel like it’s the same bad meta that casts Padme as the unemotional level headed politician in an attempt to fit her into the brand of “space feminist” people would prefer her to be. I.E. not the kind of person who would chose to get married in secret to a man she knew had murdered other sentient beings, including children. Not the person who willfully chose to do what her heart was telling her over her head, and got justifiably upset when her heart was broken.

Did their differing political views cause some discord even before Anakin went full on Bad Guy? Yes. Obviously. It’s shown in both episode 2 and 3 and the Clone Wars.

I’m sure part of her heartbreak was realizing that everything she had chosen to overlook or brush off or forgive about Anakin had completely consumed and overridden him. Of course I like meta and headcanons which seek to give Padme complexity or read between the lines of canon. But if you outright just dislike canon Padme and think she should have different motivations than she did… well… smh.

The fact that she can’t follow him down the path of murder, murder, and more murder doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him or that she loved the republic “more.” In fact I’d say that her putting her foot down and refusing to enable him demonstrates her love for him.

pink-lightsabre  asked:

do you think magnus could have survived the activation of the soul sword? or would his demon blood have overridden his angel blood?

That’s a good question! First off, I should clarify that Magnus doesn’t have angel blood at all; it’s specifically the blood of a fallen angel. A popular conception – which the books seem to hold to – is that fallen angels are responsible for having created the first demons. This means Magnus doesn’t have regular demon blood like other Downworlders, but something much more potent and closer to the source. 

What’s significant about this – and this is something the books failed to explore – is twofold:

  • it suggests that your blood doesn’t define who you are no matter how little or how much “demon” you have in you
  • it suggests that downworlders and shadowhunters are really two sides of the same coin because everything originated from the angels; fallen or not, the seven princes are still archangels

As a result, I want to say there are certain things Magnus might actually be more susceptible to, including weapons specifically meant to destroy or harm demons like the soul sword because his blood is so closely aligned to the original fallen angels. Whether this is true or not ofc we don’t know, but I wish the show would consider it because it’s a good way of giving him a kryptonite without taking away from his power in silly ways like having a couple of vampires cling to his hands.

But I also think in his hands, he’s equally capable of wielding them, if that makes sense. Like, his fallen angel blood would have allowed him to activate the soul sword but with different results than Jace with regular angel blood did, much in the same way that the witchlight glows red for him, not bright white.

But yeah! Basically I think it’s important to distinguish that Magnus doesn’t have angel blood like Clary or Jace because if he did, it’d undermine him as an example of someone whose birthright doesn’t define him; he’s specifically the son of a fallen angel/prince of hell and he’s learned to embrace his power without becoming dark and evil like his father.


PARTS: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // epilogue

Pairing: Jimin x reader
Words: 7,760
Genre: smut, angst, supernatural au.
click here for warnings by part (potential spoilers).

When playing the lying game, there are but two rules. The first is to be convincing. Live the lie, breathe the lie, believe it so wholeheartedly it becomes your new truth. The second is to always remember there are other players in the game, some of whom have been playing it far longer than you.

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▶ 2. adoration [ m ]

Originally posted by jungkooksarms

▶   Genre: Smut. (Werewolf!BTS)
▶   Description: It’s possibly the worst time to forget to lock the doors; Namjoon’s in heat.
▶   Word count: 7,099. 
▶   Author’s note: WHAT HAVE I JUST WRITTEN.

Jin taps his foot impatiently, his eyes simultaneously jumping from the clock and then back down to his younger, Jungkook.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mumbles, reaching for Jin’s arm before pulling away in fear he might jump if he were to touch him. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Jin responds with a deadly glare over in Jungkook’s direction, his fists balled up, just about ready to strike.

“She’s probably just working a little late or something,” Yoongi adds, really paying no attention to the elder besides him.

“I’ve never seen you get like this, hyung.” Taehyung chuckles, flipping over onto his back to relieve some of the discomfort brought on by laying on his front.

Jin scans the room again, noticing that the other two boys, Hoseok and Jimin, were indeed there but, to his surprise, Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Jin asks dangerously, anxiously popping up from his seat next to Jungkook and running over to the bathroom door. His hand almost magnetizes towards the handle, forcibly opening the door and scanning the dark and empty inside.

“He’s not here, hyung.” Hoseok grumbles with an intonation of annoyance in his voice, plopping down right onto Taehyung’s outstretched legs, a bowl of ice cream in hand. “Do you really not remember?”

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I’m so fucking happy wisecrack’s analyses are the best. I’ve been meaning to talk about the importance of why Rick’s fake origin story was central to the themes of meaninglessness and moral grey area and to Rick’s character (and the ultimate April fool’s on popular fanon) and this video sums it up nicely. 

(t for depression deathtalk, alcohol m etc.)

Though I do imagine Rick has a very deep and suppressed desire to seek conventional and meaningful connections with other humans like a normal person (exemplified by the fact that he did in fact get married, end up in even in some marginal way caring for his daughter and coming back to her), experience and his need to avoid vulnerability through superhuman genius always win out.

I don’t like the idea that a single catastrophe separated Rick’s conventional happy self and his current nihilistic apathy, no matter how potentially accurate, it’s just not wise writing nor is it congruent w the complexity of his character. I remember reading a comment Harmon made about not wanting to pinpoint Rick’s alcoholism to one specific event, which, he said, would trivialise Rick’s depression and deflect blame of his more destructive tendencies onto an external circumstance. This is something that was very comedically parodied by the creators who really do want to insist that Rick is and likely has been for a very long time a deeply apathetic human being. He looks past the details of individual interactions, doesn’t bother to appreciate a person’s unique idiosyncrasies because he’s come to know that all people are vulnerable in the same way and doomed for either ignorance or depression. He doesn’t bother with details like this that he sees as trivial, instead focusing beyond, imagining the far-off effects of every single action and how it fits into the overall meaning of life, the resigning himself to the fact that nothing matters, which of course always leaves everybody depressed.

Take the showdown between him and AU Rick who had Summer hostage. Repeatedly we’re revealed deeper layers of Rick’s nihilistic train of thought: if there are infinite grandkids he can portal to, then the death of one Summer doesn’t matter.  Summer’s subjective experience of any kind of pain or betrayal is, to him, minuscule in the grand scheme of it all.

And this is something else i want to touch on: Rick’s extreme cynicism and anger stem from optimism. His expectations for life, for everyone around him, and himself are too high. He’s smart enough to chart out all the plethora of possibilities (infinite realities) for his own life and humanity as a whole. Likely this presented as pure optimism when he was young, growing up around America’s early space exploration and its utopian visions of a future wth round TVs. But as he grew older, and the sunny sixties turned to the tongue in cheek hedonism of the seventies, that well of optimism shrank. Again and again he’s met with the realisation that nothing is perfect and everything is out of his control. He’s conflicted between a frustrated hope that he will find some kind of meaning, with Unity, Bird Person, Diane, Beth, Morty, Summer, etc

I think after all these years, he’s come to be a frequent flyer of the “get it over with” philosophy otherwise known as defensive  pessimism. If Diane and Beth will one day come to the same earth-shattering reality of an absurd universe, why not just leave them right now and get it over with? If we’re all going to die, why not blow up the planet? Rick has come to be so familiar with disappointment that all and any of his expectations are overridden by presumptuous dread. 

At this point, it seems Rick uses this as a pretext to deny that his actions have any lasting consequences, he’s too focused on avoiding potential (and sadly inevitable) pain. Coupled with a beautiful concoction of a superiority complex, self-hating alcoholism, depersonalisation, denial though video games and TV,  that friends, is how Rick’s psyche works. 

Ankle Biter | 02

pairing: taehyung x reader - single dad! au

warnings/genre: major fluff, major angst, smut eventually I’m sure because of my thirsty ass

summary: You swear that your job sucks, except for the guy who keeps coming in every morning to order himself a black coffee, and his kid a strawberry milk and chocolate muffin. When you and Taehyung have an awkward run-in at the cafe thanks to his kid, feelings start to emerge and so do the secrets.

words: 5.8k

playlist | 01 | 03 | 04 | 05

warning for this chapter: dirty, filthy sin I’m so sorry it’s @juxianne‘s fault, she told me to just keep sinning so I did


You looked up, eyebrows pulled together as you concentrated on trying to get a drop of espresso out of this damn machine before you threw it in the garbage; one last measly attempt to save yourself $200 because you knew Bea would just take it out of your paycheck anyway.

Taehyung stood there, and for the second day in a row without Taeji. He must’ve noticed your immediate confusion, his eyes looking down at his side themselves and stuttering out, “O-oh, he’s with his grandparents for the weekend.” You only nodded at his answer, looking back down at the broken machine.

You begin, “Look, Taehyung, I’m-” at the same time Taehyung says, “Can I ask you something?” The two of you stare at each other for a minute, before smiles replace the frowns on your faces. 

“Let me clean up, I’ll be out in a second.” You smile, heat rising to your cheeks as you turn away and wipe your hands on your white apron. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer, Y/N,” a voice says, and you look to the side of the kitchen to see Bea and Seol standing by the ovens. They had obviously witnessed your little encounter with Taehyung just now, little smirks playing on their faces and curiosity in their waiting eyes. 

Scoffing, you ignore their words and untie your apron to hang it up on the wall. Admirer? You had one of those in the 4th grade. What did he want to ask you? Your head was spinning with questions as you walked down the hallway to meet Taehyung at the register. When you finally rounded the corner, you saw the grimace on his face quickly change to one of a newfound happiness, a boxy grin engraving itself into his face.

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Kate's Magical Lust (18+)

(note. Short story for @blueberryballoons contains breast and butt expansion, and suggestive themes)

“Humph.” Kate pouted as she sat down at the edge of her bed. She just came home after a long day of college classes. She stared straight ahead into the mirror in front of her that stood on top of her dresser. She eyed herself up and down, straightening her back and turning her head from side to side. She stood up from the bed and turned around in the mirror, bending over and trying every sexy pose she could think of. No matter what Kate did, she still wasn’t confident enough in her body. She didn’t think she was pretty, flawless, or gorgeous as her friends always told her she was. She sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up into the ceiling.

“I just wish my body would change, I’m so sick of the same old me. I want bigger boobs and a bigger ass like all the other girls I know. It’s not fair.” She groaned. Suddenly a low rumbling shook the room slightly, flickering the lights on and off. She looked around the room in fear, she’d never been in an earthquake before. She stood up and was about to run for the open doorframe when suddenly there was a loud crash. The double Windows to the left of her bed sprung open and a small purple glittery from came tumbling in through the air like a badly thrown football. It clattered to the ground and rolled a few times, letting out little polite “Ooh”-s and “Eek”-s as it spun.
“Oh dear, oh my, oh heavens.” The small little woman mumbled to herself as she stood to her feet brushing dust and paint and wood chips off of her glittery purple dress. She was no taller than 3 feet, had a face caked with makeup, silver gray hair pulled up into a bun, and carried a child’s plastic magic wand. Kate stood there leaning against the dresser, her hand over her heart with an expression of shock painted on her face.

“Why hello there darling!” The woman cheerfully chided. “Sorry for such a rude entrance, I’m still getting use to the new wings.” She giggled, pointing to the fluttering neon wings on her back. Kate still stood there frozen in disbelief.

“W-Who…” Kate whispered quietly, slowly recoiling from the shock and stepping closer to the magical woman.

“Now that’s no way to greet your fairy godmother!” The woman said playfully.

“M-My fairy wha?” Kate continued to mumble.

“Come give me a hug, darling!” She said so reassuringly that Kate began to step forward. She crouched down onto one knee as the fairy wrapped her small gloved hands around Kate and gave her a tight hug. “My, my, you feel so thin child. What are these people feeding you? Tsk tsk.” She said disapprovingly.

“So you’re my fairy godmother? Like in the movies?” Kate asked with childlike wonder, staring into the fairy’s eyes.

“Yes, yes! Of course. Every young girl has one. You can call me Bellinda.” She said with a smile on her kind, aged face. “Now, I heard you muttering some nonsense about your frame. I understand it’s causing you some distress. In my opinion you should love yourself no matter how you look, especially a girl as beautiful as you.” Bellinda smiled stroking Kate’s cheek with the back of her palm. Kate smiled back, her cheeks blushing. She stood up from her crouched position. Bellinda followed Kate, her wings flapping effortlessly like those of a hummingbird as she raised two feet in the air to match Kate’s height and just hovered there.

“Now you’re in luck little lady. You see fairies like me that have been around a while have the ability to grant one major wish every month or so. I’m ready, are you?” Bellinda asked.

“Uh, well I-” “Great! Now take that hoodie off, we wouldn’t want to damage it. All you’ll need is a plain white t-shirt and some bottoms you don’t care very much for.” Bellinda said sternly as she began to wave some kind of magic over the end of the wand. Kate stood there for a minute confused before she turned around and walked to her closet and changed.

Two minutes later Kate emerged in a baggy white t-shirt and some running shorts. She stood there in a cute, awkward way with her hands in her pockets waiting for Bellinda’s approval. The Fairy turned her head, “Oh! Perfect! Now come here dear.” Kate walked over to Bellinda. “Stand here in the middle of the room” She said “Yes, perfect.”

Bellinda began to wave her wand in the air, magic glitter and sparkles appearing around the end of the wand as she muttered some nonsense spell.

“Bippity…Boppity….BOOP!!” She yelled as a pink laser blast shot out of the end of the wand, sending Bellinda across the room. The beam shot directly into Kate’s belly before disappearing and encasing Kate in a pink aura that made her feel funny for a moment, like her whole body had fallen asleep, and then the aura faded. Kate stood there in the moonlight, the room filled with silence, looking down at her body for any noticeable changes.

“Nothing happ-” Kate stopped herself. A small muffled sound could be heard, like an inflated balloon slowly letting out air. She looked down as she felt a pressure around her chest. She looked down the collar of her loose shirt and saw her bra slowly begin to push out and rise, obscuring the view of her flat stomach.

“Oh my god.” Kate whispered. She gently placed her hands onto her tits, feeling them press out into her hand. They were filling with air like balloons! She was completely fascinated, feeling her boobs grow bigger, rounder, and perkier. And it was soon visible as her breasts surpassed a B cup, pressing out against the white fabric. She was amazed, watching her once small boobs grow bigger and bigger before her eyes and they showed no sign of stopping. A sudden feeling of arousal washed over her.

That feeling was quickly overridden by a new sensation. She felt the same pressure as before only around her backside. She tried to look over her shoulder left and right but couldn’t. She jogged over to the standing mirror, her new still-growing tits bouncing with each step. She turned to the side and arched her right leg. What she saw she couldn’t believe. Her once loose running shorts seemed to be shrinking in size. The loose cuffs began to ride up her thighs as they thickened and plumped up along with her butt. Her ass began to grow fatter and fatter, filling out the backside of the shorts. She spun around, seeing her perky bubble butt continue to grow along with her new thunder thighs. She was being flooded with this feeling of arousal. She’d never been turned on by her own body, and now she finally could.

Her ballooning tits had stretched and lifted the white t-shirt to the point that it looked like a white crop top displaying her entire stomach. Her shorts were now practically panties, completely wedged between her ass cheeks. The erotic feeling was intense. She had been completely bomb shelled and bimbo-ified. The waves of pleasure ran over her again, as she moaned and quivered. She had to act on this urge immediately. She closed her eyes and absent-mindedly crawled into bed entirely powered by pleasure. Under the covers she began to rip off her ruined clothing and appreciate her new ass.

“I’ll leave you alone for this part dear.” Chuckled Bellinda as she fluttered out the window, it closing behind her leaving a trail of purple glitter tinkling to the ground.

(Follow @blueberryballoons and show some love, may be the first of a few short stories involving other Tumblr users?? Not sure yet)

– Inflation Patron

Ok cause of all the shit I felt like writing something tonight so here goes..

First off I wanted to show you just the fucking way his eyes follow her, are like locked in on hers for most of this first conversation because man oh man..

Just take a look for a moment at this look throughout the scene, the way his eyes follow her movements perfectly, and tell me what that looks like to you in terms of how he sees her. How he FEELS at that moment. I mean he is locked in on her this whole time. 

This is just some amazing shit here.  But i especially love this one..

(gifs by  kendaspntwd)

that little look up at the end. He really dosen’t look at anyone else like this. Not that i’ve seen. Its part of that amazing chemistry that they have I know. That rare thing you can’t force or create. It’s just there, it happens organically.  And its like in the last one he tries to break the eye contact but can’t and looks back up at her. 

That slight wariness melting into and being overridden by his love for her is beautiful to me. 

He forgives her so quickly just by looking into her eyes and just seeing her, By knowing her. Because he loves her so damn much and having her front of him just.. overwhelms him and he can’t take his eyes off her. 

Tell me again he’s not fucking in love with her. Fight me. 

I think I just killed myself with feels again..

Who You Are (Part 5)

Originally posted by bubblyholland

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2,793

Warning: swearing, violence, making out ;)

Summary: You are on a mission of your own when you get caught by a certain superhero.

A/N: For some reason I always post at 11 o’clock at night. I have no idea why….Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been really busy with school, but I got it done! :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

When you had come up with the idea of Peter helping you learn to defend yourself, you didn’t realize how hard it would actually be. Ok, this should be easy enough, you think right before you punch the bag.

“Shit! That really hurts. Ow. Fuck.” You say, shaking your gloved hand out and jumping around while cradling your dominant hand into your chest.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your hand. You punched with your thumb tucked it.” Peter says standing to your right with his arms crossed.

Keep reading

Forgetful (Part 2)

Word Count: 1,548
Reader Gender: Female I guess idk 
Warnings: Cussing, car accident,
Love Interest: Pietro Maximoff
Note: I know some of you are like ???? didn’t I read this??? and yes, but you read the other version. I’ve rewritten it because it was brought to my attention that it was vv cringy, and honestly I couldn’t agree more. So, here we are with a new version, and hopefully a better one.

Originally posted by marvelprincesspants

lt’s been quite some time since I left Pietro, about a month actually. Pietro has tried calling me more than once, but I’ve ignored him every single time. Why the hell should I pick up? He doesn’t deserve to try to apologize, there’s no excuse for what he did. So, he doesn’t deserve the chance to try and make one. At first, I felt sorry for myself. I blamed me rather than him, and almost called him to try and make up. That’s when Nat and Tony talked some sense into me.

They helped me realize that what he did wasn’t my fault. Now, rather than being sad, I’m just angry. I was angry that he had the audacity to do what he did, then argue with me over it. I was angry that he thought that he wasn’t in the wrong. I was angry at everything he did and said. I liked the anger, it was better than the sadness I had felt. Tony then suggested I take my anger to the training room, and it was a great idea.

I rarely got time to train, let alone the motivation, and I liked it. My combat skills and strength have increased in such a short about of time. It didn’t take long for the news of the break up to spread across to the other members of the team. I already knew that Wanda knew, the both of them were siblings after all. Soon enough the everyone knew, and in turn everyone was angry. Well, we were missing a few people.

Bruce was missing, as usual, and had been missing for a while. I doubted he’d return anytime soon, given his history. Thor simply wasn’t on Earth, and he was probably keeping peace in the realms. I had grown closer to the team, and it was one good thing that came out of The Incident. Bucky and I had become good friends, but Tony still remained my best friend. We were currently watching T.V., Bucky and I had placed bets on the news.

He bet that they’d rerun the Loki story again, even though it’s been quite a while since the incident. I, on the other hand, had bet that they couldn’t milk that story any more than they already have. Unfortunately, it turned out that he was right, once again. I huffed, pulling out a 20 as he just smiled at me, rubbing in the fact that he won. I simply rolled my eyes, shoving the bill into his hand.

“Well, I guess you were right.” I huffed.

“Of course I’m right, I’m always right.” He said.

“I think I liked you more when you were being all dark and brooding.” I said, smiling at the face he made.

“I’m not dark and brooding, I’m a damn delight.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, my bad, I guess I read all the signs wrong.” I joked and I saw him squint.

“What signs are you fucking-” Bucky began, but was silenced by my pillow.

“Watch your fucking mouth, I’m trying to watch the damn news.” I demanded jokingly and he shook his head in disapproval.

“Bitch.” He mumbled.

“Whore.” I shot back.

This was partly why I enjoyed having conversations with Bucky, or any members of the team for that matter. It was easy to talk to them, and it reminded me of how many times Pietro and I fought with one another. A part of me does still love him, I mean, we were together for a long time. I know better than to just go crawling back or something like that. What he did was inexcusable, and that’s all there is to it.

Honestly, I don’t even know what to do with him, but ignoring him seems like a pretty good decision. Even if I were to take him back somehow, he’d have to prove to me that he’s changed. He’d have to prove he’s different, and I’m not sure that he can do that. My phone made a noise, notifying me that I had a text message. I rolled my eyes as I read the message, and it was from none other than Pietro himself.

Please pick up.

No, leave me alone.

Please, I need to talk to you.

No, what you need is a new attitude, and maybe a reality check.

Just give me another chance.

To what? Break my heart again? Not a chance.

Please, just meet me at the park, and give me 5 minutes.

What do I get in return? 5 minutes of Hell?

If you don’t like what I say, then I’ll never bother you again.

That offer did sound rather enticing, especially considering he hasn’t made that offer before. I’ll have to think about it for a moment before giving him an answer. It’d be nice to have him stop trying to call and text me every 5 minutes of every damn day. I sighed as I stared at the screen, noticing Bucky raise an eyebrow at me from the corner of my eye. I showed him the messages that had been exchanged, and he shrugged.

“What should I do, Buck-a-roo?” I asked.

“First, you should stop calling me that. Second, I’d go for it. It’ll get him off your back, and if you don’t want to listen to him, you can just tune him out.” Bucky offered and I nodded.

“Very true,” I nodded, “I’m doing it.”

Fine, but 5 minutes is all you’re getting.

I stood up, shoving my phone in my back pocket before going to slip on my shoes. I didn’t announce my departure, it’s not like I was heading to France or something. Plus, Bucky already knows where I’m going. It’s not that big of a deal, really. I’ll just get scolded by Tony for not telling him where I was going. You know what, I’ll just text him. The last thing I want to do is spend an hour listening to him drone on about the how dangerous it is not telling anyone.

Heading to the park, be back in a few.

I kept my phone in my hand as I walked, expecting Tony to be texting me back soon. Thankfully, the park is right down the street, otherwise I would’ve said no. I’m too lazy to be walking or driving somewhere that’s not close by. I saw Pietro text me again, wondering where I was. He’s always forgetting that he’s literally the only one with super speed. I, a lowly human, must walk at but a snail’s pace to get everywhere.

I texted him, letting him know that I was on my way. I felt my chest tighten a little as I walked down the sidewalk. We haven’t seen one another since what happened, and I had planned on keeping it that way. I just don’t think he can ever grow up, honestly. With everything he did, and how he treated me before, it’s kind of like a slap in the face. Well, if everything goes south, at least I got him off of my back.

I looked both ways before beginning to cross at the crosswalk. My phone rang, and I picked it up once I saw that it was Tony. I looked up, seeing Pietro waiting at the other end. I did a small wave, and he returned it. I started talking to Tony, but everything moved slowly. Well, it moved slow and fast at the same time. Pietro was frozen in shock, the event completely catching him off guard. The headlights of the truck met my eyes, and I was also frozen.

I couldn’t move, and even if I did, the car was too close for me to get out of the way in time. A gasp rushed through my throat, filling my lungs up with pure fear. The hood of the vehicle collided with my abdomen, and I screamed as pain shot through me. I faintly heard Tony yelling onto the phone, but it was knocked out of my grip before I could even get another breath out. I felt one of my legs shatter from the impact.

As my body rolled on top of the hood, I felt my hip bones shatter as well. Due to the speed of the truck, I rolled from the windshield and to the roof. I felt my skin rip under the metal of the vehicle, and the wind get knocked out of me when I was thrown onto the pavement. My body felt like it was on fire, and I knew I had broken more than just my leg and hip. A new pain surged through me as a car drove over me, others screeching to a halt.

I would’ve screamed, but my senses were overridden with pain. Darkness dotted my vision as my ears faintly picked up my name being called. My lids were slowly closing, the pain and the darkness persuading them to shut. I was lifeless, and I couldn’t move anything if I tried. Everything hurt too much, and it was difficult to breath. I felt a hand go on my cheek, registering a voice but not registering what they were saying.

“Please, please stay with me.” A voice said.

Everything went black.