she says in a cave

【手ぶログ】 きっけと夜一だけ集めてみました | とも/マイピクはプロフにて! 

By:  とも

I’ve been thinking about Avatar: The Last Airbender for a bit, and I had a thought; Zuko and Katara fit that Beauty and the Beast trope. They certainly resemble a great deal of the Disney version. 

Zuko has to deal with prejudice about his face/himself, at times making him a bit isolated. Plus, in the episoide where he and Katara are trapped in the Crystal Cave, she says “Whenever I would imagine of the face of the enemy, it was your face.”

“My face,” he says, his hand going to his scar, “I see.”

There is so much here. (Plus, I have joined the Zutara train, and I don’t think I’ll be coming off it anytime soon.)

anonymous asked:

it's 2017! Hello! How can Gillian say she's never on the Internet? Does she live in a cave or what?

If Gillian’s house is your concept of a cave, I may have to reconsider the choice of my apartment.

Anyway… somehow, I think you’re right, and I think Gillian actually goes on the Internet like everyone else, but when she’s asked about it during interviews, it feels like her mind goes to a particular place and gives a predictable answer when there might be more to say. It seems like when someone asks her, she automatically thinks about her own social media and articles about herself. It could be what the interviewer means, but not necessarily, so it’s funny she always gives the same answers, more or less, when she could actually say that she reads the news, does research, buys stuff, watches videos, listens to music or whatever you can do on the Internet besides tweeting. Things that she probably does as anyone else, because indeed, it’s 2017.
I do think she tweets on her own sometimes too, maybe uses Instagram or even Tumblr when she feels like doing it, but she will never admit it, for some reasons. Same goes with online shopping. She recently said she never does it. But at the same time, she said during the wow panel that she does. A few months ago, she had even ordered a leather pants, remember? Somehow, on this particular subject, I don’t completely trust Gillian’s words, especially because the versions slightly change from one interview to another. It goes from “I have spies” and I basically know everything to when I need to see something I get alerted.

With a young adult and two young boys at home, it might be hard to live completely without Internet anyway.

mirai nagasu: 20102016

  • what she says: I'm fine :)
  • what she means: how on earth did the Big Island meme originate and gain popularity to where it is now? how did someone, namely sassydrew, just start making edits of this one random character in a game that most of the clue crew hates and have it evolve into one of our most cherished memes? i looked back into sassydrew's posts about Big Island Mike and there's not a single post explaining the joke or that clearly marks the beginning of such a craze; it seems as if the entire fandom silently and unanimously decided we were going to make terrible puns and edits about this character. the character itself is not even that exciting as he only has a few personality traits such as wanting to sell "immersion excursions" and allowing his daughter to do whatever she pleases, while on the side being part of an illegal smuggling racket that never fully gets explained at the end of the game. regardless, why does he have a ponytail? why design a character we only see the exact front of for 95% of the game, rendering the ponytail completely obsolete, but still have that 5% of the game at the end where we see his (terribly animated) ponytail?
Comic tragedy

“D’ya know what?” Addy mutters, throwing a rotten apple out of the truck as you speed past an open grassy verge. It bounces away, and you try to watch it for as long as possible before the distance becomes too great. There’s silence in the truck, everyone starving and not really in the moos to cooperate with an excited Addy.

“I said d’ya know what?” she bounces.

“What?” says Doc, always the first to cave, not wanting to hurt anyone’s emotions by seeming to ignore them. Addy’s big eyes travel around the bed of the truck.

“I think we’re going to get lucky” she whispers.

“I know who’s going to get lucky.” You murmur, sending 10k a wink. He blushes and looks away, a frown on his face. You enjoy teasing him, it pleases you to entice such a reaction from someone usually so quiet and stoic. You smirk and turn back to Addy, who seems to be waiting for someone to respond to her.

“No really. I feel it!” she enthuses, waving her hands in the air.

“I wish I could feel it” You shoot 10k another look and can’t help but splutter a little in laughter. He looks at you from under his long eyelashes, and you’re unable to decipher what he’s thinking. Doc pats him on the shoulder firmly.

“Leave the kid alone, y/n” he says, “He struggles with girls.”  10k gives him a weird look, but there’s a smile among it, and so content that you haven’t pushed things too far, you turn back to a conversation that’s begun between Murphy and Warren.

When you get to the next town, you’re the last to jump out of the truck. You take your time joining the group, checking that both of your pistols are in their holsters and that your ammo is where you left it. You watch Doc peering over Addy’s shoulder as she scanned a map, obviously figuring out where the best loot holes would be.

10k is stood, feet wide apart, staring past everyone else and down the road. You creep up behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, grinning as he flinched against you. His broad torso is warm against your skin, he’s so solid, and he makes you feel so safe. He…

You pull your arms away before he even tries to wriggle out of them and move away, glancing at his face to see his cheeks a rough red once more. He doesn’t return your gaze, just stares at the floor a few inches in front of him.

“Y/n” Warren warns. “Leave him alone for two seconds please.” You hold in a laugh, sliding your hands into your back pockets and rocking back and forth on your heels as you listen to Warren doling out orders. She sends you just across the street, to a charity shop. You look over your shoulder as 10k follows you over, surprised that he’s decided to join you. You don’t say anything though, you just open the door, jumping at the bell that somehow still works, and slip inside.

There’s not much left, but plenty that you can make use of. You start stuffing items that look half decent into your bag, the bell over the door ringing again as 10k enters. You don’t look up, just listen to his footsteps cross the floor to the other side of the room. Your fingers slide over something soft and frilly. Pulling the material free, you gasp, holding it up to the light.

“Hey 10k!” you laugh, holding out the lace underwear. “Look.”

His eyes drift up, and he stares at them for a moment, eyebrows raising by the smallest amount, a movement so miniscule that you nearly miss it. You hold the thong against your hips, striking a pose.

“Do you think they’ll fit me?” you pout. He shakes his head, and goes back to folding clothes neatly into his rucksack. Your face drops. He doesn’t normally react like this, it worries you that he’s acting so differently.

“Maybe I’ll have to try them on?” you press, dropping them to the table and folding your arms across your chest, leaning on the closest pile of garments. It’s like he doesn’t even hear you, and you think for a second that he hasn’t, until he speaks.

“Go ahead.”

Your forehead wrinkles up in confusion and you take a few steps closer to him. His hands move quickly, fingers nimbly folding and smoothing each article before putting it away. For a second you get lost in his angles. You imagine what other wonders his fingers could do, in your hair, on your face… between your legs.

“10k?” you mutter, moving closer yet and ducking your head to try and look up into his face. He turns away from you. A deliberate move that takes your breath away, it surprises you how much it really hurts. You clench your fists to calm yourself and then you move across the edge of the table and slam a hand onto the table in front of him. He pulls away, a look of shock on his face.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, eyes searching his for something, anything. He stays silent, zipping up the bag that he had been filling and then looking up at you finaly. There’s no emotion in his face, He doesn’t look like himself.

“10k.” you push.

“Why am I being like this?” he hisses loudly. “Bit hypocritical coming from you.”

You’re shocked at the tone of his voice. You hadn’t seen any signs of this anger building up inside of him, yet here it was. Explosive and red hot. You nearly take a step back, but you force yourself to stand in front of him, not on his level, but making yourself as tall as possible.

“What have I done?” you ask, trying not to sound pained.

“You know full well.” He says in a blunt voice.

“No, no I don’t” you reply, eyes wide, remembering over every past moment you’ve spent with him. Nothing seems out of place. Nothing that stands out as being a trigger for this, for something so intense.

“The way you behave around me. The way you tease me.”

Your stomach drops. If you’d known that he felt this way about it, you wouldn’t have been so brash. Or would you have? You liked him, and you always act like that around people you like. You always ended up trying to counteract your nerves with overzealous flirtation. It was only because you didn’t actually expect it to go anywhere.

“I’m sorry, I…”
“How could you?” he spits, his face contorting with emotions that you’ve never seen within one hundred metres of him before. “You know that I like you and you… you…” He doesn’t seem able to finish his sentence. He falls forwards, palms supporting his weight above the table. He shakes his head and a sound escapes his chest that’s like hot air escaping from a punctured tire. Your features soften and you have the urge to reach out and cradle his face in your hands, tell him that everything is okay.

“I like you too!” you tell him, moving forward, closing the space between you.

“Don’t.” he groans. “Not now.”

“I do!” you exclaim, hands flying up in the air. You don’t know how to tell him. How to put it into words so that he’ll understand, understand that you love him and you mean it. That you’ve cared about him so strongly for so long, just unknowing that he felt the same way.

“Y/n, I can’t do this anymore.” He looks you in the eyes now, a cold empty stare that scares you more than any zombie you’ve seen in this damn apocalypse. 


“No.. I can’t be around you like…”

“10k, please listen!”

He keeps talking, telling you that he thinks that he should leave the group, because he’s not going to make you go, your heart sinks lower and lower, as if you’re getting close to the edge of the world and you’re about to drop off into the void. It’s a void that you’d never be able to return from.

You leap forward and up onto the table, knees sliding on the wood and fabric as you throw your arms over his shoulders and smash your lips against his, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow. You can’t let him go. You can’t lose him. He tries to push you away after a couple of moments and you just push back, your mouth on his again, trying to get him to just see.

He pushes you off again and instead of anger there’s sadness in his face.

“Please.” He whispers. “Don’t do this.”

You’re about to cry, you can feel it. Tears are filling up in the corner of your eyes, your legs shaking and threatening to give out under your weight, make you fall off of the table.

“I love you” you gasp, eyes closing and tears escaping, leaving hot trails down your cheeks. You imagine that he’s walked away, that he’s left now that you’ve lifted your grasp on him and you’re never going to see him again. Cold air brushes over your eyes and then over the top of your head, strands of hair tickling your skin. Fingers wipe away your tears, soft on your face. Your eyes flicker open.

He’s still stood there. He hasn’t left. He’s looking into your face with a look of awe normally reserved for an expensive gun, or an animal crossing his path. He holds your head in his hands and you shake, halfway between crying and laughing. He’s still here.

“You’re telling the truth” It’s a statement not a question. “You… I thought it was a big joke.”

You shake your head, letting out a giggle that isn’t out of amusement, rather more out of shock and relief.

“I love you” you say again, voice cracking. “I just couldn’t…”

He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours, letting out a long breath, and that’s how you stay for hours, relieved and loved. In each other’s arms.


Falling in love starts with, “Who the fuck is this?” - Louis CK

but think about (young) aedion ashryver:

  • getting the news of how the king of terrasen was murdered along with his family and having his heart broken for aelin
  • hearing that they found all the dead bodies except for hers and struggling to find her himself
  • sneaking at every chance he gets to investigate possible tracks of her or where she went and never giving up until he has ran out of ideas and his body is covered with dirt (from all those caves)
  • getting discouraged by everyone saying she’s done for
  • overhearing how the throne is vacant now that there’s no true heir and picking a fight with everyone over it
  • holding on the thought of aelin’s return all those years until he found an opportunity to get himself into the king of adarlan’s force
  • risking his life and his absolute everything to the sole thought of aelin somehow - oh dear, just somehow returning without even the assurance that she’s even alive
  • generally being devoted to his cousin, his queen all those years
  • getting the news that she’s alive and she’s well and she’s a proper woman and being ecstatic to the fact that she’s alive and he can finally see her
  • and then giving up his chance to meet her - after all those years - so chaol can escape 
Day 3 - Small Spaces - Clexa

For The 100 Femslash February

“Duck into the cave, she says,” Clarke mumbled, shifting to try to alleviate the pressure of the rock that felt like it was wedged into her spine. Lexa shifted in response, presumably to help, but it only ended with the butt of her sword jabbing Clarke in the cheek. “Fabulous idea.”

Lexa made a noise that might have been a growl, but fortunately there was no room for her to move. “Perhaps next time, we should not detour into the territory of such beasts.”

"I landed on Earth like two months ago,” Clarke replied. “I’m not even sure what that thing was, how should I know where it lives?”

"You did not see footprints?” Lexa said, shifting again. Clarke was beginning to think Lexa knew exactly what her sword was doing behind her back.

“I wasn’t exactly looking at the ground,” Clarke said, glad that Lexa wasn’t facing her in the tiny, cramped crevice where they’d taken refuge. She wasn’t sure what the Commander would think of the flush of her cheeks if she could see. “And it’s not like you saw them either.”

She didn’t have to see Lexa’s face to envision her expression- like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “My attention may have been elsewhere.”

Clarke tried not to grin. “Am I a distraction, Commander?”

Outside, the monstrous beast roared, shaking the cavern. There was a raw scraping noise from the mouth of the crevice, and a huge, furred paw scrabbled around inside once again. It knew where they were. They were lucky the crevice went back far enough that it couldn’t reach them, but Clarke had begun to worry it would just claw through the rocks to get to them.

When it withdrew a few long minutes later, angry snorts and snarls echoing around them, Clarke allowed herself to relax a little. “So, how long til it gets in here to eat us?”

“It should leave in a few hours,” Lexa assured her calmly.

“Hours?” Clarke groaned, letting her head fall back against the rock. “We’re stuck like this for hours?”

"There are worse predicaments,” Lexa pointed out.

“Yeah,” Clarke agreed, a small smile touching her lips. “I suppose I could be trapped in here with someone I don’t like.”

There’s a post going around that I don’t want to reblog but

I can’t stop laughing at the idea of CYers calling Belle a Stepford wife. 

Belle, who challenges Rumple at every point and who broke up with him in no uncertain terms when she found out he was lying to her? Who only returned after weeks of self-reflection and plenty of evidence that he wouldn’t do it again? (Who knew? Snort.)

Now, this show DOES have a pliable, gullible, Stepford girlfriend who does everything for her boyfriend. There’s a woman who repeatedly allows him to lie to her and deceive her, saying onscreen “I don’t want to live in the past!” and “I choose to believe the best of you!” There’s a woman who caves when he says that she WILL be his. There’s a woman who hastily reassures him when he throws a jealous snit because she had literally her first conversation since they started dating with a male whom she’s not related to. There’s a woman who changes her style of dress to something she thinks will please him. There’s a woman who moves into a house HE picked out with no input from her. There’s a woman who thinks it’s cute and flattering when he threatens suicide to get her attention. There’s a woman who seems to have lost all her integrity to the point of using another woman as blackmail fodder. There’s a woman who excuses him for everything he does wrong, including his trying to murder her family.

Guess who that woman is? 

You’re Going to Want to Remember This (1/?)

Summary: (Season 3b cannon divergence). Emma and Henry thought they could escape the curse taking everyone back to the Enchanted Forest, but one year later they wake up in the loft with no memories after saying goodbye at the town line.
Rating: (Eventual) M
Wordcount: ~1,100
Previous installments:

          Eighteen year old Emma Swan always thought that if she was ever pregnant again she’d have her shit together. Thirty year old Emma Swan knew that for her at least, there was no such thing as having shit together.

          Three days ago she had woken up remembering nothing other than saying goodbye at the town line and had promptly begun to vomit. Waking up with the urge to throw up once she’d attributed to feeling sick, twice a coincidence, but waking up three mornings in a row – well let’s just say she caved bought a pregnancy test.

          She had been sitting on the edge of the tub for the last half hour, staring at the two pink lines for so long that they’d gone blurry. Pregnant, she was pregnant again. So not only did she have to deal with whatever mystery threat erased the last year of their memories and brought them all back to Storybrooke, but with a pregnancy and unknown father as well. All this left Emma with one question, what the hell happened last year?

One year ago

           Emma watched the smoke engulf the town as they drove across the town line with tears in her eyes. Her last thought before they hit the town line was a wish that they could remain together. Then in the moment it took to blink an eye, they were back in the Enchanted Forest.

           Emma helped Henry to stand and looked around confusedly. “What happened?” she asked, looking at Regina.

           With a cry of happiness Regina ran to embrace Henry, as Snow followed suit colliding into Emma. Tearful goodbyes were one thing, but reunions were something else entirely, and Emma stood uncomfortably as she was hugged and patted on the back by one person then another.

           Emma searched for a reprieve and her eyes landed on Hook, standing at the edge of the gathering with a smirk on his face like he knew that she was itching for an escape. Oh god Hook, Emma’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment at the thought of her last words to him – ‘good’ might not be a declaration for many, but both she and Hook knew the weight of the word coming from her.

           Clearing her throat and prying herself from one (she wasn’t even sure which) of the dwarves’ grip, Emma spoke. “Regina, what happened? Why are Henry and I here?”

           Regina finally let go of Henry and walked towards her. “I don’t know Miss Swan, maybe you didn’t cross fast enough, or maybe I was wrong about the price. But either way I say we don’t question it.”

           “I agree,” Snow said, reaching forward and clasping Emma’s hand. “We’re all together and we’re finally home.

           There were nods and murmurs of agreement as they began walking towards the queen’s castle, but Emma couldn’t help feeling as though the word ‘home’ seemed a little bit hasty.

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