probably ignore this

stupid small probably obvious head canon about why inigo is a night owl —-

        *please note based on my own interpretation thx

in my own personal idea—henry leaves for the last time inigo sees him during the night. by chance inigo happens to wake up to be able to at least see him one last time. since then, he has the idea that he would always come back during the nighttime, and when he never did it obviously didn’t sit well with him. once able to sleep straight through the nights now being woken un by uneasy feeling after his mother dies and the world is in desolation. his mother most likely murdered in front of him in the evening time—not quite night, but still associate-able to.

bad things happen during the night. and still haunts him to when one of the future kids is wounded by risen in the dead of night—more than likely while he was asleep ( ‘cause i also hc him to be a heavy sleeper when he’s finally able to get some sleep ). It’s more like a personal vow to himself to protect those he loves against the evil and the unknown of the night. often offering to take the night watch because he knows he can stay up until almost dawn to let someone else take over. he’s very well used to the dark, growing up as henry’s son—his senses are heightened when it comes to hearing at least. 

protection and fear that if he should let himself go to sleep at night, that he will lose someone else near and dear to him just like his mother and father. the night is nothing but heartache and bad memories for him–which is also why he chooses late nights to practice dancing–it makes him forget about all of the bad that comes in the night and focus on more of the good. the tranquility, the moon glowing on skin, the stars that would always guide him. out of something ugly would always forge something beautiful, and perhaps even despite what’s happened to him he has the courage to keep going and face the night like a soldier would. you never know what’s waiting in it, but you’re willing to give anything for the sun to come, a symbol of hope in some cases.

even if its in the form of a smile for others to be guided by.

anonymous asked:

Do you ever feel that words like 'racist' are failing us? I think that people drawing Solas with locs are definately being insensitive, probably ignorant, but racist? I think most of them are just drawing him with light skin because that's how they know him from the game, adding hair. Saying they're racist will prob just make them double down on a mistake & dig a trench to resist your legitimate points. No-one will be persuaded if they feel attacked. (I know u didnt mean to attack BTW)

I know what u mean, but no I don’t

I agree that ppl getting defensive & refusing to learn is a problem, one that is unfortunately very common. but ~that reaction~ is the problem, not the word ‘racist’

whatever the reason for people drawing white solas with locs, that is racist. it’s not a less-bad version, it’s not just ‘problematic’, it’s racist. & calling it anything else would give people a get-out clause

so what we need to change is our reaction to being called out on our shit. & I say 'we’ bc we all do it. I’m not singling anyone out here, it’s a natural thing to go on the defensive when someone accuses us of something & we don’t immediately see why

so that’s what needs to change. we all need to be more open to criticism & the possibility that we’re wrong; we all need to be more prepared to learn & change. but I don’t think the language itself needs to change, just our reaction to it

Nothing pisses me off more than dudes who say shit like ‘’Ya know…. I’m just not interested in female singers….. male singers have much better songs!’’/ better voices!’’/ something of that variety. Not only have you definitely not tried AT ALL to find female artists you like (they are out there), you have probably ignored them. You are actively uniniterested in women and their art. I’m just saying. You are missing out here, bud

jealous!maya au

hahuuurrrr fanfiction // part 2 (part 1)

requested by anonymous

In which Lucas finds out for a second time that Maya is exceptional at holding grudges, except this time Eric is busy in Stupidtown St. Upidtown and he has to fix things himself. (juniors)

“Oh no.” Lucas, Farkle, and Zay all have the same reaction. 

“Come again?” Maya asks, disbelieving. “You’re kidding.“ 

Coach Kelly shakes her head. “Jenkins is out, she broke her wrist. Matthews is taking her spot for regional qualifications.” She sighs as she walks away. “Looks like we’re not going to regionals this year.“ 

“Hey, we shouldn’t worry. She’ll be great,” Maya assures her three shocked friends. “She doesn’t have to do anything fancy. Samantha does the flip thingies.“ 

“Flip thingies?” Lucas laughs at her. 

“You wanna fight me, Huckleberry?” Maya retorts, raising her eyebrows at Lucas, who opens his mouth to reply with a smile. 

“Okay!” Farkle interrupts. “Guys, can you believe it? Riley’s been a sub on the cheerleading squad for four years. She’s never done anything. This is her chance!" 

He’s right, Maya thinks. Riley’s always been on the sidelines. Last year, a flyer thought she broke her ankle two weeks before the big homecoming football game and Riley was supposed to fill in, but it turned out it was just sprained. She was fine by the next practice. Not that Riley could fly/flip/jump (or whatever it was fliers did) anyway, and she admitted it.  

"Farkle’s right,” Zay agrees, voicing her thoughts. “Maya, you’ve been taking her to your gymnastics classes. She’s gotten better, right?" 

Maya started taking gymnastics the summer after the eighth grade and hasn’t stopped since. Tiny and determined, she won gold at state champs twice in three years (one year she couldn’t go because Lucas had a big baseball game that day and she had promised him she’d watch). 

"Um, truth or comfort?” Maya’s heard Cory say that to Topanga many times, especially during holiday season. 

“Truth,” Lucas decides hesitantly. 

“They have, like, a forty percent chance of making it to regionals." 

"Comfort,” Zay requests instead. 

“They have, like, a forty-one percent chance of making it to regionals." 

"Great,” Farkle mutters. 

“Maya!” Riley’s excited voice causes them all to turn their heads abruptly. “Maya, did you hear?” Maya knows that even if she says yes, Riley’s going to tell them again anyway. 

“Hear what, honey?" 

"I’m subbing for Jenkins in regional qualifications!” Riley squeals. Maya tries for a smile and hopes it doesn’t look as tired as she feels. 

“Congratulations, Riles,” she hugs her best friend, frowning at Lucas over Riley’s shoulder. 

“Thanks, peaches! I have to go get ready for practice. I’ll see you at dinner?” She beams at Maya, waving to the three boys as she skips to the locker rooms. 

“What’re we gonna do?” Maya sighs, leaning her head on Lucas’ shoulder. “Eastview’s made it past regionals to state and won every year since 1976. If they don’t make it this year, Riley’s going to blame herself, and everyone else will blame her too.” Lucas threads his fingers through hers and squeezes comfortingly.

“How did you know that? The 1976 thing, I mean,” Zay asks, confused. Maya doesn’t even look at him, just points to the banner on the wall. 

‘Eastview High Cheer: State Champions since 1976!‘ 

Lucas chuckles. “I say we ask one of the other cheerleaders to help her out before qualifications. It’s still a few weeks away, right?” Maya tilts her head, considering it.

“Yeah, okay,” she says slowly, thoughtfully, “maybe that’ll work.” 

“I’ll ask her,” Lucas nods toward a dark-haired cheerleader standing across the gym. Maya’s eyes follow him unconsciously; something she’s found she does a lot without thinking about it.

“I am so glad you two are finally together,” Zay sounds exasperated.

“Yeah, you tell us just about every five minutes,” Maya snorts. “It’s been six months, when are you going to get used to it?”

Maya and Lucas went on their first (real) date a few days after her gallery at Off Track and they’d been dating ever since. Zay couldn’t have been happier, and Lucas swears Zay’s more excited than he was when they announced their new relationship.

“Probably never,” Farkle answers for him with a laugh, but Maya’s distracted by something else, a small frown settled on her features.

“Am I gonna have to get used to that?” She sighs softly, looking away and toward Zay and Farkle. Lucas and the cheerleader seem to be hitting it off very well, and Farkle cringes, knowing that the way the brunette is standing and giggling means that they aren’t talking about Riley anymore.

“He’d never hurt you on purpose,” Zay says immediately, and Maya wishes he didn’t sound so automatic. “You know he wouldn’t.” But his words mean nothing to Maya when the cheerleader produces a blue pen and scribbles something on Lucas’ arm. Farkle hears Maya’s breath catch in her throat and knows immediately that she’s about to leave.

“Hope is for suckers,” she whispers and walks quickly toward the door.

“Maya, wait,” Farkle calls after her, causing Lucas to look up just in time to see Maya leave and Farkle’s disapproving glance.

+ + +

“Maya?” Farkle walks through the halls of the large high school. “Maya, where are you?” I’m never going to find her, he thinks, not in this maze of a place. He pulls out his phone.

“Isadora,” he speaks when she picks up, “are you still at Topanga’s?” Isadora Smackle took up work at Topanga’s at the beginning of the year, a part-time job when Katy and Topanga couldn’t be there.

“Yes, I was just about to leave, my shift is over soon,” Isadora replies, and Farkle can hear her shuffling around, closing cabinets and pushing in chairs. “Why? Do you need something?”

“Maya might show up there,” Farkle says as he half-walks, half-runs toward his car, noting that Maya’s small Civic is gone. “She just left Eastview, so it’ll be a few minutes. Can you stay?”

“Of course,” comes the reply, “what happened?”

“Lucas,” Farkle sighs, and doesn’t have to say anything else. “Can you call me if she comes? I’ll be on my way unless I know she’s somewhere else. Thank you, Isadora.”

“I’ll see you soon, Farkle.” She hangs up. Farkle smiles, getting in his car. It splutters, and falls silent.

“Oh, you’re kidding me,” he groans, trying again. Same result. Farkle gets out and glares at the car. He doesn’t notice someone coming up behind him until she speaks.

“Having car trouble?” The voice sounds amused. “How old is this thing anyway? It looks brand new. ” Farkle spins around to see a light brown haired girl standing behind him.

“Uh, it’s a 2018. Only a year." 

"Wow,” she sounds impressed. “What’d you do to it?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Car like that doesn’t just break down. Mind if I take a look?” She walks closer and sets her hands lightly on the hood. 

“Be my guest,” Farkle shrugs. “I’m not a car person. I’m an everything-else-ever person, but not cars. Well, cars and sports. Not my things.” She laughs. 

“I’m Michaela, by the way.” She opens the hood. “And you’re Farkle.” Michaela doesn’t let Farkle answer before she yanks a cord out of the hood and inspects it. “Someone cut this. Where are you headed? Chasing someone?” She tilts her head at him. 

“Maya Hart,” he answers after a minute. 

“Yeah, she could do this,” Michaela speculates. Farkle doesn’t ask why she knows this. “I think have an extra cable in my car." 

Her car is a large gray truck, and Farkle is pretty sure it’s the same as Lucas’ (except his is red). 

Within five minutes, Farkle’s car is up and running again, and Michaela waves to him as she drives away. 

“Maya’s here,” Smackle calls him a minute after he starts driving. He puts his phone on speaker and sets it on the seat next to him. “Farkle, she’s not talking to me. I don’t know what to do.” She almost sounds panicked.

“I’m on my way.”

+ + +

Farkle bursts through the door at Topanga’s, not expecting to see Maya and Smackle sitting together on the orange chairs, Smackle’s arms around Maya. He almost laughs at how uncomfortable Smackle looks but refrains because she’s doing a nice thing for her friend.

"Maya,” Farkle says slowly. Both of the girls look up, Smackle draws her arms back, and Maya smiles at him sadly. Farkle never wants to see the defeat in her eyes again, and if Lucas has to go back to Texas for Maya to be okay, then Farkle will be the one buying the ticket. “Maya, talk to me.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Maya whispers. “At least, not until he let her write her phone number on his arm,” she says bitterly. Farkle sat on the chair next to her.

“We don’t know that’s what she was doing.” He doesn’t even believe himself. Maya looks at him pointedly.

“I’m pretty sure we know,” she rubs her face. “This is why I never said anything when he and Riley were… whatever they were. If they had ended up together, I wouldn’t have even had to deal with this.” Her voice cracks.

“You would have had to deal with seeing them together every day,” Smackle speaks up. “And that would hurt more.”

“You know, you’re a great friend, Isadora,” Maya half smiles at her. “I’m glad you were here. And thank you, Farkle. You’re the best ex-fake-husband I could ever ask for.”

“You would do the same for either of us, Maya,” Smackle says, “Thank you for teaching me how to be a friend.” Maya really smiles at her then.

“I’m going to hug you,” Maya warns. “So if you’re going to do that thing where you just stand there, get ready.” But Smackle doesn’t even tense up, hugging Maya back tightly.

Then Maya counts down from five in her head, and when she thinks one, Riley appears in the doorway, wearing her cheer leading outfit but her jeans are still on. 

“Maya! What happened?” She rushes over. “Zay said Lucas did something. What did he do? I’m going to kill him,” she glares. “Maya, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Riles,” Maya smiles. “Thank you for coming. What about cheer leading practice?” 

“It wasn’t going too well, and then my best friend got all needy,” Riley rolls her eyes, grinning at Maya. 

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Maya laughs.

“I needed an excuse to leave anyway,” Riley shrugs, bumping Maya’s shoulder and causing both her and Farkle to move over. “Zay said you ran out, and I figured you’d be here.” She sighs. “Lucas is a jerk.”

“You don’t even know what he-” Maya starts, frowning.

“I don’t care what he did,” Riley cuts her off, shaking her head, “if it sent you running, it’s not okay with me.”

+ + +

Maya takes a deep breath as she walks into school the following Monday, Riley by her side. After two days of ignoring Lucas’ calls and texts, locking the bay window, and sending Cory to tell Lucas to go away when he came to the Matthews’ house, Maya feels she’s ready to face him.

And by face him, she means avoid him at all costs.

“Hey, Maya,” Zay says slowly, cautiously, gauging her reaction. 

“Hi,” she smiles. Maya’s not mad at Zay. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t let a cheerleader write her number on his arm. Actually, she’s not sure exactly how his and Vanessa’s relationship started, so she supposes she shouldn’t make that assumption. 

Maya shakes her head. She’s over what happened. At this point, it’s just a matter of whether or not she’s going to be super forgiving quickly, or make him suffer.

The sight she sees near her locker makes her immediately choose suffering. Silent treatment it is, then.

So much for avoiding, she thinks. Lucas is leaning next to her locker, and yep, you guessed it, the cheerleader stands in front of him, smiling and chatting away. Maya doesn’t even blink, although she can’t ignore the way her heart skips a beat when he smiles, even though it’s not at her.

“Excuse me,” she says breezily, opening her locker quickly and sliding her books inside. Riley waits for her patiently, sending Lucas a death glare, but he’s staring too intently at the blonde to notice.

“Maya,” Lucas almost sounds surprised. “Where have you been? Are you okay?” She ignores him. “Maya?”

“Let’s go, Riles.” Her voice is steady, casual even, and she smiles at Riley. “I don’t want to be late for science.” Riley nods cheerfully, and the two walk off together. Lucas frowns after them, starting to follow when a hand on his arm stops him.

“Lucas, where are you going?” The second he turns back around to look at the dark haired cheerleader, Maya glances back, only to see him facing the other way. She purses her lips.

“Alright, Friar. If this is how you want to do this, that’s fine by me.”

+ + +

“Maya,” Lucas whispers from behind her in history class. She stares straight ahead. “Mayaaa,” he tugs on her hair. “I’m sorry for, um, whatever I did.”

Wrong answer, Maya thinks. Never make it sound like you don’t know, even on accident. 

“Be quiet, Lucas,” Riley answers monotonously for her. “She comes here to learn.” She and Maya look at each other, then burst out laughing.

“Ah, that’s a good one, Riles,” Maya sighs.

“Maya,” he whispers again, twisting her hair around his fingers. “I missed you. You know you want to talk to me.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Riley replies again. Lucas frowns at her.

“Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I washed her number off,” he says hopefully, holding out his arm. So you do know. She doesn’t even glance at it. Lucas then starts scribbling on a piece of paper. After a minute, he hands it to Maya. She really, really doesn’t want to open it, but she does anyway.

You and me, forever. Please?

Maya bites her lip in an attempt to hide her small smile, tossing the note on her desk and crossing her arms. I’m mad at him, she thinks, over and over. Very mad.

+ + +

Life isn’t perfect, but every second with you is.

I like the way you make me feel even when we’re not together.

I think about you more than I should.

You’re my everything.

They’re the cheesiest things Maya’s ever read, and after the first note, she was suspicious of Lucas’ apparent poetic ability. So she looked up “cute couple quotes” on Google, and sure enough, the first few that showed up looked all too familiar.

But the sentiment’s nice and Lucas is her everything too.

So work with me here:

  • Killian’s buttons have been increasingly undone as the seasons have gone by
  • As he has been on his redemption arc
  • Now that he is dark!Hook, he goes back to like one button undone

The thing about Ghostbusters is that how do I go back to watching other films now?!! How can I go back to watching films where the only female lead is there to wear skimpy clothing and be a love interest for the male lead? How can I go back to films where the only “fat” character is there for everyone and themselves to make fat jokes? The thing is straight guys finally got to see what it’s like to have their only representation in the main cast be the less useful only-there-for-supposed-eye-candy a la Kevin (but then Kate McKinnon kinda stole the eye candy part there) and they didn’t like it. Before the film, I was looking forward to it but I didn’t think having an all-female team really mattered that much. I see now why it really does, especially for young girls who are finally able to see themselves in Holtzmann’s creativity and goofiness, or Patty’s love for books and history, Erin’s accomplishments in the particle physics field or Abby’s ability to take no crap (even if it’s about the number of wontons in her wonton soup). Even if people think that the film isn’t great, and everyone’s entitled to their opinions, they can’t deny that it’s important and a definite step in the right direction for Hollywood.  

we need to introduce another female character who's always been there but nobody notices because she's kinda quiet but then everyone loves her and at some point she talks to riley

“Maybe you don’t love Lucas like a brother Riley. I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve seen the way he looks at Maya, and they way she looks at him. But you know what else I’ve seen that I don’t think anyone else has yet? The way you look at Farkle and the way he looks at you. Don’t forget Canada, Riley. He’s our biggest ally, but sometimes we take him for granted.”

and it’s the most riley’s ever heard her talk and at first she’s stunned but when she walks away riley just kinda stands there and smiles

to be entirely honest, the idea of Neil hugging / holding / carelessly touching Andrew at basically any time save years and years down the road after intensive therapy and a lot of trust building makes me extremely uncomfortable. I mean canon Andrew tenses under Neil’s (non-sexual, over the clothes, middle of the chest) touch even when it was Andrew himself who knowingly put Neil’s hand there. Neil refers to pressing two fingers to Andrew’s chest later on as crossing a line

Andrew is extremely touch repulsed, and Neil is aware of that. Neil is careful. That’s literally a (if not the) fundamental basis of their relationship. Neil understands that even Andrew guiding his hand to some place on Andrew’s body isn’t consent until Andrew verbally confirms it. That’s why Andrew feels safe enough to be close to Neil. It’s such an important piece of their relationship? Neil is hyperaware of Andrew’s lines and boundaries, and he is careful about them all the time. He keeps himself off Andrew’s body even when he is on top. He asks questions and actively wants to know where Andrew’s boundaries lie so he doesn’t cross them. This is so important?! I don’t understand wanting to blur that. 

Andrew touching Neil, though? Now that’s a different story. Cause Andrew is fine when he’s the one touching & our desperately touch-starved Neil? I mean honestly? Give me more moments when Neil gets stuck in his head, but then Andrew’s hand is on his back & that grounding him. Give me Andrew tracing Neil’s scars, and Neil marveling at how it never makes him feel like a spectacle or dirty or broken, but rather like he was finally being understood as a whole person. Give me Andrew’s passing, totally platonic touches. Talk about Neil’s panic attacks and Andrew’s hand on his back. Give me the small, fleeting moments when Neil is watching Andrew and thinking he’s gorgeous and perfect & instead of protesting, Andrew takes Neil’s face in his hand, for just a moment. 

Give me Neil and Andrew understanding each other in the ways no one else really does, and doing everything they can to give each other what they need. 

taking APs, honor classes, and french outside school is taking a toll on my drawing time so all i’ll post for a while will probably be quick sketches

Dating Nathan but not knowing anything about swimming making things difficult bc you just want to support him but you literally have no fucking clue about anything he’s doing or what he talks about while you’re hanging out and he totally knows and you can tell that it’s kinda disheartening for him so you google EVERYTHING there is to know. Like who holds what records, what the hell the IM actually is, and you even have to google Michael Phelps bc you had heard of him but never really cared too much about the specifics of how great he was to the Olympic sport. Then on your next date catching him totally off guard by STARTING the conversation about swimming and asking if his form for the Butterfly had improved any because it looks really hard and just seeing his face light up with that wonderful smile because you genuinely cared about his sport enough to look into it and had actually been paying attention to the things he said when you had asked about his training in the past.

In this moment I have realised a few things:
1) I am no longer my best friend’s best friend
2) she is not my best friend anymore either
3) for once in my life, I am my own best friend

I can always tell when I’ve found my notes on La Celestina for the amount of times I’ve written alcahueta. Like for no reason. Like I’m practicing calligraphy with alcahueta.

…And on one page I have written, “Alcahueta: Helping the convent girls get wettah”… because that’s the mature thing to do when you read a book about an old lady pimp who looks like the witch from Snow White, isn’t it?