I went to see a talk by Colin Gibson,
the production designer of Mad Max: Fury Road, and one of the most mind-blowing
tidbits I learned was that when the Green Place turned sour, the matriarchal Vuvalini took their girls and fled, but they left all the boys behind. Those boys, left to die in the poisoned bog, became the Crow People we see walking on stilts:
Gibson also said they chose white paint for Immortan Joe’s war boys because
(and I quote) “fat white bastards killed the world.” The Vuvalini were
conceived as the opposite extreme to this, the opposite of the “fat
white bastards” - but their way and their culture is still a dead end, and their callous disregard for male children is no better than Joe’s callous disregard for female children.
This makes the ending of the film, where the wives and Furiosa take the Citadel in order to build a new society, even more important. Neither Immortan Joe nor the Vuvalini had the correct ideology, but the wives and Furiosa do. Thanks to their long journey in the Wasteland, they are placed in a position to fashion and rule a more idealised, peaceful society, one based on equality across race, class and gender.
Dag, the pregnant pacifist, took the seeds from the older, violent generation so she could build a new, peaceful one. Capable showed empathy and kindness towards Nux even though she had been abused by men her whole life, and will surely show the same empathy to the war boys and war pups left behind. Toast the Knowing, observant and intelligent and ready to lead, took the wheel from the dead tyrant at the end and eagerly helped raise up the oppressed classes at the Citadel. Cheedo the Fragile turned her fragility into her greatest strength, proving that gentleness is not weakness in this barbaric world.
Furiosa forged a relationship of complete respect and equality with Max that helped her overcome the trauma she suffered at the hands of men. She achieves catharsis by killing Joe and loving Max and the wives, emerging from it all ready to begin again, ready to leave the past behind and step into the future.
We see many different tribes and cultures in this film and are presented with many different methods for survival, but only one that is really worth fighting for. The love, trust, respect and equality that exists between a ragged band of strangers in a War Rig thus becomes the prototype for the new society that will rise from the ashes when the Citadel falls.
new mind palace sequence, listen: sherlock going through those doors in his mind palace and it’s still the hallways of the roland kerr further educational college but instead of redbeard in the middle of the floor, it’s just john, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, wearing that plaid shirt with the sheer maroon cardigan, looking off into the distance, and when sherlock comes in, his head turns, and he sees sherlock, and he smiles just a very very very tiny little bit, so little only sherlock could see it, only because he knows john’s face so very well.
and john pushes off the wall and goes to sherlock, stands in front of him. you need to calm down, sherlock, he says. he sounds like his doctor self. his soldier self. the way he sounded just inside 221b’s door before Moriarty’s trial all those years before, the quiet authority, ready? before he lead sherlock through the crowd. the quiet authority of just a few weeks ago on the floor of a barracks bathroom, of steven, can you hear me? stay with me. sherlock says, i didn’t know, john, i’m sorry i didn’t see it. and john reaches out one hand, puts it on sherlock’s arm. they don’t touch much in real life but sherlock knows the size of john’s hand, the warmth of his palm. he knows it now. he knows it always.
don’t apologise, john says. i just need for you to be all right sherlock. i know it hurts, i know it does. i got shot too, remember? but i need for you to be all right. and it does hurt, it really hurts, and john is saying breathe, breathe, helping sherlock to his knees so he doesn’t fall down, helping him carefully to the floor. how did you survive it? sherlock asks him. how did you survive the pain? sherlock knows now how it is to be hugged by john, and john hugs him here, too, holds sherlock close to his body, shelters him. he smells like aftershave. his eyes are deep dark blue. i had to, john says, he takes off his cardigan and presses it to the wound in sherlock’s chest. it’s not bleeding, here in the mind palace, but the pressure hurts. i had to survive it so that we could find each other. and you have already left me once, sherlock, and i can’t do it again. do you understand? you do not get to die under my hands again, all right? john takes his face in his hands as sherlock’s heart starts to fail. softer now. we’re losing you, sherlock, and i need you to survive this, okay, i need you to do this with me. are you ready? so breathe. and john kisses his forehead. breathe. john kisses one cheekbone, breathe, and the other. sherlock, right now, okay? right now. are you ready?
sherlock nods, even though he isn’t sure, and john says it one more time, breathe, and it sounds like for me, and he kisses sherlock’s mouth, kisses him hard and steady and certain, and somewhere in a surgical suite outside of sherlock’s mind, a machine beeps back into life.
“S-Sorry” Maybe this is the first time Ardyn’s used this trick on Prompto. Prom hasn’t seen him use illusions. Hasn’t figure out the train. ‘Noct!!’ he’s overjoyed when Noct steps into the room Prom’s locked up in. Prom hurries over to him, ready for an embrace.
Leading on from his last encounter with Noct, it would probably feel like a continuation until Ardyn starts to talk and Prom realises - this doesn’t sound like Noct at all….
Hi guys. I’m going to piss off a lot of YA writers (and possibly
readers) today, so hang onto your hats.
Mainly, if you’re in love with the idea of a high schooler
with no strategic or combat experience heading up a revolution or war because
they’re “so dedicated and determined,” don’t read this. Please, don’t. You’re
not going to see anything you like. Go ahead and keep enjoying your guilty
pleasure – that’s fine. I’m not going to own up to some of the guilty pleasures
I love in fiction but don’t buy for a second in real life. That’s chill. Go for
But there are just things that I – and readers like me – are
tired of seeing. If you’re sick of that trope, then keep reading. If you’re
open to the idea of ditching that trope in your writing, then I really
This assessment/collection of tips on why teens shouldn’t run
revolutions - and if you’re going to make them, how they CAN do it well - will
include comparisons to history, other fiction (Unplugged), and Black Butler.
Plus swearing and a range of incorrect capitalizations, because it’s fun.
author’s note: briefly interrupting the stranger things fics because i watched ragnarok and caught mad feels. the last time i wrote loki was like when i was 14 or some shit and it was really badly written lol. also this is like really fluffy?? which i hadn’t planned but stories can have a mind of their own ha. thor to follow probs
// harry and y/n take a pink bath together after a long day
Some things never fall out of routine. For example, the world never stops turning, the clocks never stop ticking, and Harry never runs out of pink baths to treat Y/N and himself with. The porcelain tub has been filled with two fizzing bath bombs, releasing the smell of a thousand roses to complement the pink hued petals Harry picked up at the store. The flicker of a few candles provide the little light needed for harry and Y/N’s evening. He finishes lighting the last one when y/n peers her head into the bathroom. A small smile rests on her face, feeling joy in her heart, and Harry’s lips on hers. He tastes like the strawberry champagne he bought earlier and Y/N thinks it’s delightful. Harry shrugs off Y/N’s tan peacoat that she wears almost everyday in the winter months. Her blouse is shed immediately after the heavy wool of her coat meets the floor. The mesh of their lips don’t waiver despite the challenges it brings to ridding themselves of their remaining clothes. Luckily, Harry had on a button down that Y/N so easily undid for him. Harry draws his lips away slowly, still brushing his bottom lip with Y/N’s. “Bath’s ready,” he mumbles. He leads Y/N to the bath, their fingertips loosely locked together. “Got some petals to put in here as well,” he informs her.
Y/N nods, slowly dipping herself into the water that has cooled just enough to make the heat tolerable. “They’re lovely, H,” she whispers. Harry hands her a glass of champagne before getting in himself. He rests his back at the opposite end of the tub, adoring Y/N as she puts her hair up in a bun so it doesn’t get all soapy. “Where did you get them from?”
“Farmer’s market,” Harry answers. “Had some real pretty daisies, too. Left those in the kitchen fo’ yeh.” He reaches a hand out for Y/N to take. Gracefully, she’s pulled to his side of the tub, her back against his chest and his arms resting over her tummy. He places a gentle kiss to her temple as she rests her arms over Harry’s, finding his hands once again hold in her own. Her fingers slot themselves in between his. The water settles from all the movement but the softest waves continue to reach up the sides, the petals floating in different directions, feeling free from the stems that once held them together.
Bathtime is always very mellow for the two of them. Words seem unnecessary, too much of an effort to mutter out when the two of them talk to strangers for a living. The soft hum of their favorite bathtime playlist and the low crackle of the wood wicks from their candles are just enough. Occasionally, Harry would tell Y/N everything she already knows like how beautiful she is or how much Harry loves her. He doesn’t mind when she doesn’t say it back because he knows how sleepy she gets while taking a bath, and when Y/N’s sleepy, words take too much energy. She just nods and kisses Harry wherever she can. She mostly kisses his collarbone or the swallows that she loves so much.
The only thing determining when it’s time to get out is when the water gets too cold and their fingers and toes resemble the raisins in the trail mix Y/N buys from Costco. Harry and Y/N live very hectic lives, often feeling like everything around them moves faster than the speed of light. it’s hard to keep up with the demands of their jobs, however it’s easy to forget the small moments that make them feel like time is on their side.
Pink water twirls down the drain, leaving the wilted petals at the bottom of the tub. Harry and Y/N have already made their way to bed, her head rising and falling on Harry’s chest as he breathes. “Ever think about what life would be like if we never met?” Y/N ponders a 1 A.M. thought.
Harry shakes his head even though Y/N can’t see his action. “No, too painful to imagine what it would be like without you.” His fingers are in their usual spot, combing through Y/N’s ridiculously soft hair. Her brows crease at Harry’s answer, she pushes her weight on him to sit up. He follows suit, leaning his weight on an elbow. “What?” He chuckles curiously, gingerly tucking strands of Y/N’s hair behind her ear. Y/N shakes her head, not sure of what to say. She always seems to come up with these existential like questions after midnight. “Do you not know how important you are to me?”
Y/N shakes her head again, “No, no of course I do. I just wonder what-”
“Hey,” Harry stops her. He kisses her lips sweetly, his nose brushing her cheek before he pulls away. “I need you like the moon needs the sun. The moon doesn’t shine if weren’t for the sun and I wouldn’t be able to do half the things I’m doing if it weren’t for you.” Y/N closes her eyes when she feels Harry’s lips on hers. “Love you, so much,” he mumbles. He lays them back down, Y/N in Harry’s arms, where she belongs. He’s strong and warm and never hold on too tightly, fearing he’ll suffocate her. Y/N wouldn’t mind, though. She’s been drowning in his love for so long, not being able to breathe from his contact wouldn’t be so bad. Sleeping without contact feels weird, anyways. It’s lonely. Especially since Harry and Y/N spend so much time apart. Sharing the bed isn’t enough. Having a king mattress is a waste, they’d be perfectly fine in a twin. Harry sets one last kiss on Y/N’s temple before letting his head drop to the pillow. Little hums vibrate against his lips as he sends him and Y/N off to a much needed slumber.
The Tesseract has awakened. It is on a little world. A human world. They would wield its power, but our ally knows its workings as they never will. He is ready to lead. And our force, our Chitauri, will follow. The world will be his. The universe yours. And the humans, what can they do but burn?
summary:soulmate au in which whatever your soulmate feels you feel too. you decided you weren’t ready for a relationship, leading tom to get slightly carried away when he finds out you’re on a date.
word count: 1.7k
author’s note: thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart if you took the time to read this.
Tom was getting annoyed.
It was his day off from shooting and he’d been lounging on the couch all day with his best mate, Harrison. The TV was playing one of his favorite shows; one that he had watched a good four times from start to finish and nonetheless enjoyed each time. It was his favorite, but he couldn’t revel in it the way he wanted too with his best friend laughing every few minutes at his phone.
Tom tried to ignore it, he really did. He never considered himself a patient person; Harrison didn’t either, which only fueled him to try, but as another chuckle left Harrison’s mouth, he couldn’t help but say,
“Mate, could you shut up?” he groaned. “I’m trying to watch this.”
“You’ve seen this show like ten times”
“Your point being?” he raised his eyebrows, turning up the volume of the TV. “Today’s my only day off and you could be a little more considerate- and woah.”
His stomach churned. It was quick and unsettling. Sometimes he’d feel so excited that it’d do the same, but that was a different; he knew that feeling and he knew this wasn’t it. He felt nervous, his hands began sweating and as he sat up to look at Harrison, his stomach churned again.
“What the he-”
“It’s Y/N” he cut Harrison off. “It’s Y/N, Haz. She’s nervous. She’s nervous, oh God w-why would she be nervous?”
I feel like I’ve really earnt my stripes – I feel ready to play a lead. I would just love to prove I’m good enough to carry a project. But like any actor I berate myself on a day-to-day basis – I’m not doing well enough, or I didn’t get that role, or I haven’t done enough theatre… I’m shit, I’m shit, I’m crap, I’m crap… Oh, God… you know. It is important to stop and look and think how far I have come. We all need some TLC and to pat ourselves on the back from time to time.
— Natalie Dormer for Amica (2012)
Bucky didn’t have a lot of expectations for the future, after his Winter Soldier days all he could hope for was a quick and painless death. He couldn’t stand any more pain in his life or any more torture. Part of him just wish that his life would be over soon.
Living alone in Bucharest showed him that he could be a little more hopeful about life. He could hope for good days where he would have clean clothes and a homemade meal. That he would be able to sleep a whole night without having any nightmares, days like this were rare but when they happened they are like heaven.
After the events of the Civil War, he had too many responsibilities and expectations on him. He didn’t want to disappoint Steve, he wanted to be forgiven for his sins and forgive himself for it. But how can you ask for forgiveness if no one believes you deserve it, not even yourself.
Bucky dreams about a normal life or as normal as he could have. Where he wouldn’t wake up every night screaming because of a nightmare when people touched him wouldn’t be to cause him pain but to comfort him and love him.
So, as a few of you know, it was my birthday yesterday! So I wanted to write some lafluff for me from me!! :D
And of course, I wanted to share bc who am I to not share Lafluff.
It’s like 3k so read under the cut :)
Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me.
The young mother hums gently late at night, soft singing leaving her mouth and whispering comfort words in between to the small bundle in her arms.
Her son hiccups, his initial crying fading away and leaving behind only quiet sniffles and the occasional whimper. The brunette smiles to herself, patting herself in the back for avoiding a late night crisis with her youngest child.
“There we go, sunshine,” she whispers under her breath, dropping a quick kiss on her son’s head as the baby nuzzles his face closer to the crook of her neck, “Thunder scared you, huh?”
The baby just whimpers, hiding himself further down in his mama’s protection. Mrs. McClain could still hear the rain raging outside the living room’s window and she hopes it doesn’t wake up the rest of the household.
It takes her about ten minutes to realize that her son is not going back to sleep anytime soon, and while she knows the decision she’s about to make will probably come back to bite her in the butt next morning, she shrugs and bounces the baby in her arms to catch his attention.
“Alright, buddy, seems like a long night for us,” she declares tiredly but her blue eyes are bright and playful, her smile only growing when her son’s eyes, so familiar to her own, look up at her with innocent curiosity, “How about we dance?”
Her son blinks, a small hiccup making him jump in surprise and getting his mama to giggle warmly as she wipes away the tear tracks on his chubby tanned cheeks.
“Taking that as a yes.” She shrugs, readjusting her baby in her arms one more time before she starts moving around the room, her dancing falling into gentle steps as she starts over her humming.
It doesn’t take much before her son is giggling and squealing in delight, a big toothy smile on his face as he looks down and sees her feet moving around gracefully.
Mrs. McClain smiles fondly when her son beams at her and pushes her cheeks together, babbling something that is still incoherent in her ears but she still nods approvingly for his sake.
“Yeah, that’s right, Lance! This is called dancing,” she praises gently, kissing her son’s cheek lovingly, “Do you enjoy dancing?”
A giggle followed by a soft excited pat in her nose answers her.
“Taking that as a yes.”
Blue eyes stare in awe as the form of his mama and older brother move around the living room.
The furniture had been pushed away earlier, giving the pair more space to practice, and that’s where Lance sits right now, on the top of the couch on the corner, eyes shining with excitement as he follows their moves.
His mama is currently laughing, her head shaking in disbelief at the tactics of her oldest son as the fifteen years old tries to dip her back dramatically. Mrs. McClain just slaps him playfully in the arm before tugging him back to the proper posture.
Strong arms suddenly grab him by the armpits, lifting him up in the air. “Dirty feet off the couch, champ.”
Lance tips his head back to see his papa’s amused face and Mr. McClain arches an eyebrow at him. “Grandma will go nuts if she sees even a dirty spot on her ancient couch, you know.”
The five years old smiles sheepishly, hands covering his mouth as soon as his papa drops him back to the ground carefully. “Sorry, papa.”
“It’s okay, bud, at least you had socks on.” He reassurances, ruffling his light brown hair roughly and offering a smile before he nods to the pair in the middle of the living room, “So, what’s happening here?”
“Mama and Tony are dancing!” Lance announces excitedly, raising his arm to point at the pair as he tugs at his papa’s jeans, “Mama is so pretty, papa! Look how she moves; she’s like a princess, or a fairy or -”
Lance beams. “Yeah! Yeah, like a queen!” He exclaims happily before turning back to the scene in front of them, smile wide and giddly.
Mr. McClain hums to himself, grinning knowingly as he sees the way his son stares at the still dancing pair.
“Do you wanna try it out, Lance?”
Lance blinks at him, eyes narrowed in confusion and making the adult to chuckle.
“Dancing, son. Do you wanna dance with me?”
“I dunno how, papa.” Lance bites his lower lip unsure, looking up at his dad nervously but the adult just smiles softly at his son and holds out both of his hands towards the child.
“It’s okay, son,” he comforts gently, “Just take my hands, I got you.”
And just like that, Lance’s face breaks into a bright smile.
Small feet cover his own two feet, his dark socks making a fun contrast with his son’s neon blue ones and Mr. McClain starts swinging them gently, his big hands wrapped tightly around his son’s to keep him up.
The comparison between his hands and his son’s small ones is comforting and yet scary. It reminds him how small his son is, how precious he is and how much he wants to protect him from everything that could harm him.
But he can’t. There’s a world out there behind their door and Mr. McClain knows his son will have to face it sooner or later. He just hopes he’s able to teach him everything he may need to know, everything that will make his journey easier.
A loud laugh shakes him out of his thoughts and he looks down, catching his son’s bright blue eyes looking up at him with a blinding smile. Mr. McClain allows himself to drop his shoulders, tension leaving him as he smiles back.
There will be time to teach Lance all he may need to know.
“Okay, now, you are going to lead, ready -? Woah, hold up - Ow- Careful with your heel, son -”
Request : “Do you want me to leave?” and “I am not losing you again!”
You are tired of waiting around for harry, so you make the sad decision to leave
I couldn’t live like this anymore, I couldn’t live a life where I have to sit here and wait for someone that barely comes around. I was lonely, I mean I don’t need a significant lover in my life but when I do and that person isn’t really around makes it hard. They say they love me and care about me, but as days go on I just can’t grasp what they express to me anymore. I sit here in silence, waiting here another day like always wondering if they will even call. It gets to a point where a week goes by and I don’t even see a text from them. The only way I really can see what they are doing is from looking online. So that’s just what I do, I look up the most latest new articles on them. The first thing that I notice right away is that they came back in town, without my indication. Something inside of me makes me snap and I just lose it, How could he do this. I sit here and waste my time on someone that I believe doesn’t even feel the way that I do about them. I decided that enough was enough and I wanted out, I couldn’t be here in this house any longer.
What is it that makes fake Shiro different from Real Shiro?
In this post, I talked about the theory that the Black Lion was able to find clone/brainwashed Shiro(who I will now refer to as Kuron) because Kuron does believe he’s Shiro.He believes himself to be perfectly fine.He has Shiro’s memories and he feels a real bond and a real connection to the team and to the Lions and the Black Lion felt and recognized the bond, not necessarily Kuron himself, as real. That’s how Black was able to find him.
Once Kuron stopped focusing on his bond with the team while he was on his deathbed, once that moment was over, the Black Lion was able to see the true aspects of Kuron.There are certain aspects of him that the Black Lion has recognized as fake, that the Black Lion has recognized as insufficient to lead. One of these is Kuron’s leadership tactics.
Anyone notice how he’s been completely undermining Keith since he got back?
He interrupted and talked over Keith when they found the Galra outpost with the teledav. When the team had to choose between prioritizing the Comet Ship, the teledav, or Lotor, Kuron undermined Keith and dictated that sticking together to get the Comet ship was priority. And everyone agreed with him against Keith.
Kuron is using his position as a Commander and dictating orders to everyone including Keith, rather then working alongside Keith. Everyone recognizes Kuron/Shiro as the leader and are more willing to put their faith in Kuron/Shiro’s plans then Keith’s plans. Especially after that fight with Lotor on the gas planet. It’s only helping Kuron to undermine Keith and it’s not looking good.
That’s why Kuron has been making plans and allowing Keith a small amount of influence and input, rather than giving Keith a chance to come up with plans of his own. Best example: When the cargo ship holding the teledav was about to get away, Kuron gave Keith a choice between two plans Kuron made; either defend against the Comet Ship or take down the teledav and deal with the consequences.
And it turned out both of those plans were crap compared to Keith’s own plan of tricking the Comet Ship into destroying the teledav
Kuron was 100% confident in his plans and not Keith’s ability to lead. And it almost cost them a chance to destroy the teledav.
And Kuron admits this at the end of the episode, when he says that Keith’s quick thinking is what came through. But he asserts that Keith is going to get there. And by that he means, Keith will eventually become a good enough leader where Kuron does not have to step in. Kuron sees himself as a commander ranking above Keith, rather then someone who now has work with Keith.
Kuron has to recognize that Keith has leader status now. When he does that stuff like that, undermining Keith in front of the team, dictating orders and plans, the team could end up missing opportunities like tricking the Comet Ship into destroying the teledav. This is something the real Shiro would recognize.
The real Shiro recognizes someone else with leadership status and is willing to work alongside them. Shiro recognized Allura(✨My Queen✨) as a leader and was willing to work alongside her, even sometimes defer to her, because the real Shiro knows how to step back and work with another leader. But Kuron doesn’t do the same with Keith. Instead, Kuron undermines Keith, in front of everyone else.
Kuron doesn’t have to completely just let go and let Keith take the reins, but he hasn’t been making enough of an effort to work with Keith to convince me that he’s the real Shiro.
I realize this all might make Kuron sound like a bad guy, and he’s not. I don’t think he is. I don’t necessarily think there’s something wrong with the plans he makes or the choices he makes and I don’t think hes intentionally undermining Keith. He even apologized for it at the end. I think Kuron was right at some points to step in and correct Keith. Keith isn’t ready to lead on his own. But the way Kuron steps in doesn’t sit right with me. It’s different from how Shiro would step in. The way he acts as a commander is different from Shiro and the Black Lion has picked up on it. It’s something that has helped the Black Lion realize that Kuron is not Shiro.
Tl:dr; Kuron is a different kind of leader than Shiro and it’s what the Black Lion has picked up on as fake and rejected.
This is also just a working theory though, so what do you guys think?