that's from an old old time

valentine’s day fluffy drabble - part of my ‘zayn as a beauty vlogger’ ‘verse. featuring gender fluid zayn/veronica and harry the adorable boyfriend. note: this is not intended to portray the only way for a person to be nonbinary or genderfluid- this is simply one interpretation. this drabble is told from veronica’s perspective.

BEFORE ANYONE ASKS: i don’t know, okay? this just… happened today.

It’s almost perfect but there’s something still wrong with the lighting. Since moving to her new flat in Norwalk, Veronica’s never been able to completely figure out the complicated overhead ceiling lights. She’s lucked into getting the perfect levels before but tonight, her luck seems to have run out.

It’s no big deal- there wasn’t really a video planned for tonight so her viewers aren’t going to be as critical as if it were one of her makeup tutorials. A quick update has more room for error.

“Hey, everyone,” she says into the camera, shifting so her shadow doesn’t block her features. Her hair tonight is long and curly like a Disney princess and her makeup is still mostly flawless even after a long evening. She catches sight of a bit of color outside of her lip lines and she wipes it away with another quick look to the viewer to check. “Just wanted to post a quick update.”

“I know it’s usually annoying when people come on YouTube and gush about their S.O.’s around Valentine’s Day- how many posts do we have to see, really?- but I think I’m becoming one of those people.”

Veronica ducks her head for a second, catching herself speaking too quickly to be understood. Her Northern accent is a bit hard for people to follow, especially when she doesn’t enunciate, so she forces a breath and calms down. She casts a glance at the camera again, knowing her lashes are perfectly done up tonight and that it will translate to the camera well enough.

Can’t take the beauty blogger out of the girl.

“You guys have heard me talk about Harry,” she says carefully. “He’s… he’s really, really great. He had this grand idea of a Valentine’s Day date but it kind of went terribly?” she laughs. “I don’t know how he managed to do it, but he failed harder than I’ve ever heard of and it was pretty perfect because of that.”

“So, first off, he told me to be ready at five for our evening but he forgot he had to help a relative with their own VDay surprise until the last second so he calls me at four forty-five to let me know he’s moving it back an hour. He had the most panicked tone, too, like I was going to call it off right then and there. I didn’t mind, of course, because I’m a terrible procrastinator and had only just started getting ready. I got to take it slower and take my time- getting my hair just right, do you guys like it tonight?”

Veronica pauses again, tilting her head so the lights show off the different shades in her hair piece. It’s her most expensive one and her least favorite, if she’s honest, just because of the work associated with it. But she will never deny how pretty it is.

“I like it. Anyway, so we lost our reservation at the restaurant Harry had picked out- he won’t tell me which one it was but I’m sure it was ridiculous and we both would have been uncomfortable anyway. So we ended up going to a Chili’s, instead which- let me tell you a secret: you don’t need a fancy, prissy dinner with waitstaff in tuxes or anything ridiculous like that. Your everyday chain restaurant like Chili’s is going to be perfect- you’re comfortable already in the environment, you already know the food is good and they don’t give those tiny plate things, and it’s got the same Valentine’s Day ambiance and décor. It’s a hundred times better than any fancy place and probably half the price, too.”

Veronica sighs, irritated. “Not that Harry let me pay or even see the check. I tried to swipe my card on the kiosk- I know how much his gigs have been paying him lately- but he wrestled it away from me. Almost knocked our drinks over but he managed to keep his gangly limbs in check long enough.”

“After dinner- I had the Cajun chicken pasta but I skipped the garlic bread because I didn’t want to have bad breath, I knew I’d regret it,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and shifting on her bed. “After dinner, we got back to his car and he gave me flowers and a box of chocolates he’d forgotten about. The flowers are a little wilted-“ she reaches out to pan the camera and show the slightly sad display on her nightstand behind her- “but they’re still lovely. The chocolate, on the other hand…” she laughs, bringing her hand to her mouth to keep the sound quiet. “Chocolate and black cars in LA don’t really mesh. They were almost completely melted and, I went to try one anyway because Harry had his disappointed puppy dog expression on, but I dropped it because it was so soft and it stained my dress.”

“Harry was so mad- at himself, not me obviously- and promised to have it dry cleaned. But I’m hoping you guys will have some suggestions. If not, I’ll search around on Google and figure out a secret. Not paying to have it cleaned when I can do it myself, right?”

“So my dress is- the stain is huge,” she holds up her hands, demonstrating the apple-sized stain now on the thigh of her dress. “And this is a really sexy dress, too. Puts my chicken legs all on display, gives Harry something to look at, the whole nine yards. But now it has a stain that, quite frankly, looks like poo.”

“He had planned on taking me out for drinks and dancing but I didn’t want to go with my dress looking like that and it wouldn’t make sense to come all the way back home here and change when we were already downtown. So we went driving around for a bit- I tried convincing him to just call it a night and chill together at home, but he was determined to have a night out.”

Veronica grins, waving her hands again. “He’s ridiculous. Finally, I told him to find a shop where I could buy something else to wear. We were right by a mall so we ran in- twenty minutes before close. The shop associates probably hated us but I’m pretty lucky because I found a pair of jeans I already know I like and a cardigan. I just dressed in the changing room and paid from the tags, keeping my slip on and putting the sweater over it. I think it looked pretty cute, if not so dressy. Harry got a few pictures of us in the before outfits and then in mine after. I’ll put those on Insta if he hasn’t already.”

“Make sure you guys are following both of us anyway,” she says, pointing to the corner of the screen. She’ll put a “SHAMELESS SELF-PROMO” dialogue box up later with links to their Instagram accounts. It didn’t used to be so easy to put plugs in like that, but a couple years of practice has made it more normal to do and now there’s almost no hesitation to remind viewers to follow the other social media accounts tying back to the uploaded videos. “I’m always popping up in Harry’s photos and half of the pics on my personal one, here,” she says, pointing to the opposite corner, “are of the two of us also. Forgive my boyfriend’s black and white aesthetic,” she smiles at the camera. “He thinks he’s pretty cool. I haven’t had the heart to tell him the truth.”

“Heeeeeyyyyyyyy,” she hears from behind her.

Veronica turns around, smiling over her shoulder at Harry where he’s stood in the doorway in just a towel, drops of water dripping from his long curls to his chest. She winks at him before turning back.

“Harry’s here,” she says with a sly grin. “He took us to the club after all but ended up spilling a whole tray of shots down his shirt. Came to mine to shower.” She pauses, ignoring the flush she feels on her face. “Think I’m going to go now, actually. Just wanted to pop in for a quick update of my day. Hope you all had a great Valentine’s Day like I did, even if you just treated it like a regular Tuesday. Be safe, be sweet and be strong,” she says, blowing a quick kiss at the camera before pulling a silly face and reaching to turn it off.

The mattress bounces as Harry settles in next to her. “You didn’t really mean what you said about me not being cool, right?” he asks, kissing her shoulder where her tank leaves some skin bare. “I’m pretty cool.”

“You’re the coolest,” Veronica assures him, grinning and turning her head to kiss his pouty mouth.

“Come convince me of that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, one hand slipping down her arm and trying to link their fingers together.

“I gotta edit the video, babe,” she protests, pulling away and laughing when Harry whines. “C’mon.”

You c’mon,” he returns. “Edit it in the morning.”

“Doesn’t make sense to post a Valentine’s night update the next morning,” she reasons. “It’ll take me ten minutes.”

“It’ll take an hour because you’re a perfectionist and by then I won’t be horny at all.”

“That’s a bit of a falsehood.”

“A bit,” Harry allows. He settles back against the pillows behind her for a moment while she opens her editing apps and sets about cutting any parts she thinks are too awkward. “I’m a little hungry still,” Harry says a few minutes later. “I can go whip up something if you’ve got anything in.”

“Just went to the store yesterday,” she says. Harry shifts off of the bed, tugging on a pair of boxer briefs and discarding his towel in the hamper. “Harry,” she calls before he heads out of the room.

“Yeah?” he asks, turning and walking closer to her.

Veronica tilts her head back for a kiss, smiling softly against Harry’s lips. “Tonight was amazing. I’ve never enjoyed anything more.”

“Tonight was a disaster and now your viewers will all know.”

“It was not. Thank you, honestly. You’re good to me.”

Harry brushes her cheek with his palm, cupping her face and tilting her head back for another kiss, which she gives up easily. “You’re good, period.”

“I might be more Zayn when you come back,” she lets him know. “Feeling middle-ish right now.” She doesn’t always know the words to say but Harry always seems to understand- or, he asks the right questions when he doesn’t. Or says the right things.

“I love you always,” Harry assures, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Six months ago, she wouldn’t have believed someone saying that. Not because she didn’t know she deserved it- of course she knew- but just because it was one of those statements that carried a lot of weight with it and sounded cliché if not said with care. But one thing Harry has always shown- whether it’s to Veronica or Zayn or any of their in-between days- is the utmost amount of care.

“I love you,” she says. “So much that I’m going to get this done in ten minutes- I mean it,” she interjects when Harry looks doubtful, “and then I’m going to come help you in the kitchen.”

“I’m timing it.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “You do that, babe.”

Since I mentioned in this post that I headcanon that Toshinori could gift Izuku with one of his old hoodies from his U.A-times for Christmas, there is something else that came to mind…

Imagine Izuku not taking of the hoodies for days after he got gifted with it. He wears it proudly, the first few times even with his chest puffed out because that’s All Might’s old hoodie he is wearing there. He is not only touched because that is a very personal gift, but also because he is still an All Might-fanboy through and through and his fanboy-heart does double-flips of happiness.

His classmates not even dare to make fun of him, because Izuku looks so genuinely happy about his gift, they can’t bring themselves to destroy this for him. So Kirishima, Mina and all the others swallow the jokes about “proud son and proud Dad” down and go on with their day, only casting quick, amused glances over to Izuku now and then to see if he is still touching the overly long sleeves with fascination when he thinks no one is looking.

Toshinori is no less happy by this than Izuku is. Seeing his student walk with a little spring in his every step, humming and smiling and wearing that faded old hoodie as if it is a badge of honor is a heartwarming sight altogether, one that makes him feel strangely proud.


Though, a few days after Christmas, when Izuku wants to go outside to do some laps around the house, there is this little, tiny thing that Toshinori forgot about altogether and that hits him like a truck.


He is sitting in the living room, sipping his tea and reading a book, when Izuku calls out for him, “I’m going to do some laps, will be right back!”

“Don’t forget your mittens again,” Toshinori calls back absentmindedly, turning over to the next page.

“I know, I know,” Izuku’s ringing laughter makes the corner of his mouth twitch and he turns enough to look over the back of the couch at the boy.

Izuku pulls the hood of his hoodie up, making sure that the thick material covers his ears against the cold, and turns around to tug his mittens from a shelf.

It’s then that Toshinori’s gaze fall onto the boy’s back, and the retired hero literally chokes on his tea, starting to cough on spit and tea and blood.

There, all over the back of the midnight blue hoodie, visible now that the hood is out of the way, are yellow letters stitched, spelling out a single name.


Suddenly, Toshinori remembers vividly that back in his days as a student, they had gotten this very individual hoodie as a present for passing their finals – and as a little plus, each hoodie had gotten their family names stitched onto it.

He hadn’t remember that when he had gifted the hoodie to Izuku. He really, really hadn’t.

And know Izuku had been walking around like that for days, wearing a hoodie that told the world that he was Toshinori’s… that he was part of…

Oh my.

Izuku’s shocked shout goes unheard in the coughing, but Toshinori calms somewhat when warm hands wrap around his shoulders, steadying him. “Toshinori-san?! Are you hurt?!”

Managing to wave off the boy’s concern weakly, Toshinori sobers up enough to croak out a hoarse ”F-fine… just choked on the tea.”

“Ah,” Izuku relaxes visibly, shock melting into relief. “I’m glad.”

It’s something in the way that Izuku smiles at him, that open, warm smile, that makes Toshinori’s brain stop working for a moment – long enough that his mouth can blurt out hoarsely, “I forgot that this hoodie has my name on it.”

There is a pause as they stare each other in the eyes, equally surprised, before Izuku says, “Ah.”

That’s all. Just a little sound.

And something clicks inside Toshinori. Izuku is observant, and smart, and he has had that hoodie for days already… “But you knew that already.”

Something flickers through Izuku’s eyes, an emotion too quickly gone as that he can deceiver it, and the boy starts to blush at an alarming rate. “Um…Yes?”

“You didn’t…” say anything, Toshinori wants to say, even though part of him wants to add, worriedly, complain about it.

“W-Well, I already said that I really love this hoodie, didn’t I?!”

At that outburst, Toshinori clamps his already opened mouth shut again, just staring in amazement and shock and pure adoration as Izuku raises his chin, stubbornly meeting his gaze, even though the boy is blushing blazing red. Fully aware of what he just hinted at.

The shock Toshinori feels stands no chance against the other feelings crushing over him, and he smiles – wider than he ever did before, putting even his All Might-smiles to shame.

Funnily enough, that smile is what cracks Izuku’s courage. The boy blinks, slumps forward – stubbornness and courage flickering out of existence – and pales, before he blushes again just as fiercely as before.

Ripping his hands back and off Toshinori’s shoulders, stumbling a few steps back, Izuku starts flailing and spluttering, “I-I will be out now… uh… laps… yeah! I will be out!”

Ducking with a little sound that sounds suspiciously like a squeak, Izuku is out of the living room before Toshinori can even try to stop him. There is rustling, a door being opened and slammed closed again, and Izuku is gone.

And Toshinori… starts laughing. A low rumble, turning to a chuckle and morphing into a full-belly laugh, until he is breathless with mirth.


Still chuckling, Toshinori cards a hand through his hair, huffing out affectionately, “You’re really something else, my boy.”

And if he puts a little more emphasis and a tiny bit more warmth into the last two words… well. He would be not that far off, right?


Modern Raven Reyes Aesthetic - 20 years old, born in L.A., plegia and chronic pain due to a car accident at 15, early graduate from MIT as a double major in modern astrophysics and aerospace engineering, works as a part time mechanic, into the east l.a. chicano punk scene, recruited by NASA, super tatted and bisexual as hell.



Hey! I’ve never posted proper photos of myself on here before, but now I’m like, #yolo, even if just for today, so here we #golo

ADHD is…

Not being diagnosed in childhood, because you did “too well” in school

Spending your teens feeling stupid as all hell, because you struggle to meet deadlines and can’t quite understand concepts in subjects that don’t 100% capture your interest (math, u lil bitch, i am lookin @ u)

Having your executive dysfunction chalked up to “laziness” because if you’re smart, you “can’t” have ADHD, so you’re obviously just unmotivated and lazy. Except if you were unmotivated and lazy, you wouldn’t have high achievement, so like, check mate, bud?

Being told that ADHD isn’t a reason for your behavior, it’s an “excuse”, and that you should just “do better” despite your brain literally not being able to

Not being told you have it until you’re 18 and struggling to function like an adult

Having trouble driving because you can’t focus, having trouble sleeping because you can’t stay still, having trouble with chores because you never remember anything

Hyperfocusing on something so hard that suddenly it’s 6 AM and you’ve ruined your sleep schedule all over again

Suffering from loads of mental health issues, overcoming literally all of them, and having your executive dysfunction still blamed on them because people just??? really love????? to use mental illness and their ableism as a scapegoat?????? instead of trying to help, and recognizing that adhd is a permanent part of you?????????? like “are you sure you’re not just depressed” yes. thank you for your opinion even though i never asked for it, but I am actually very sure, good day to you too sweetie :) :)) :)))

Not being able to make yourself shut up when you’re speaking about something you’re passionate about. Having that problem in college lectures, and hearing a few people snicker each time you talk because you’re /that girl/ who /talks too much/ and has /too many opinions/ like gawd sorry for taking up space ffs


Finally having an explanation for some of your less-loved quirks, and knowing that you’re not just lazy or stupid

Finding a whole bunch of people who get it

Being able to do amazing things when you hyper focus, getting more done than most people because you actually can’t get distracted for once

Finding outlets for your energy very early on in life, and finding them to be your favorite things in the whole world (acting, dance, music)

Being able to multitask like a pro (and also having to multitask, because when you have the tv/radio/whatever on in the background, it’s a distraction you can control, which helps a lot)

Knowing a whole ton of totally random trivia about so many different things, and a bunch of information on a few select topics, to the point that people think you’re a student in those things (example - I’ve been very physically sick this year, I like to read medical journals, and when I went in to get a CT scan a few months ago, the tech asked me if I was a medical student because of how much I know about it all)

Having a huge amount of energy when you’re doing things you like, and feeling it exponentially grow, feeling like you can take on the world

Understanding that nothing’s wrong with you. You work differently than most people, and it makes life hard, but that’s because of the world, not because of you. It’s just how we are.


Peek a look at some WIPs for AU comic! Enjoy these small parts of next pages!

Also, remember that those jokes written in red aren’t really part of comic scenario. XD Just for fun! So. Don’t worry! *wink*


I remember when i first looked for cullen references and only had a pixel pic of his armor xD
Before the game was even out… ah good old times.
And best pic to make comparison in art development x)

slug christ interview

my mother was the messiah of the olde 3rd dimension & my father was a Arch-Slugdemon. they were realitycrossed lovers who bent time to fuck. i was birthed thru a tear in spacetime killing my mother instantly causing the olde world to cease 2 exist. in a desperate attempt to save me my father used every last ounce of dark slime to splatter this plane onto a canvas and died a dry death. i grew up alone in a grey tasteless fog where i became self aware the 1st time i cried. i then thought of everything thats here right now. i slugged from the heaven i built to the hell i built for thousands of eons. i entered the gates of hell where a choir of dragons heralded of slug christ’s foretold arrival.
have u heard a dragon sing? its beautiful…..
i slowly slugged and slimed my self thru the slippery sloped sold souls and unsold souls. there i met lucifer for the first time and i thought she was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. i thought i fell in love but the love left as the moon went down and she turned around to reveal her other half, jesus h. christ. he told me “JESUS H. CHRIST AND THE H IS FOR HOKAYHOKAYHOKAY” i learnt much from that man & i cried from happiness almost everytime we spoke. then evening came, that weird part of the cycle, the threshold….. that tv show twilight zone? the purple sky came and reveal much to me. it was sideways now….i could see lucifer and jesus together as one for the first time in my life. i could see IT for what IT was. i then realized i had been talking into a mirror, my own reflection….. i hated myself…. felt disgusted i swear to god i was scared. i didnt know this right then, but the nanosecond after, that it was a two-way mirror and i was on the other side studying myself. u must understand how confused i was… i thot it was my reflection but he seemed to kno so much more than me yet did everything identically. you dont know how scary it is to know that the only person youve ever learnt from was you, i shook w anxiety.. i also hadnt eaten all day. i ate 3 xanax and felt much better. with my new found relief i broke the mirror and climbed thru the broken glass that stretched for miles. my emotional softbodied slug carcass was was sliced and sliced and sliced and sliced and sliced every inch i slimed. i smiled. at the end of the glass was a desert where atomic bombs had been planted i guess thats where this glass came from… that or that mirror? anyways,,, the desert was actually just a really big beach and i laid bleeding out in the sand and gazing at the ocean…. fuck… im seeing myself again…. out in the water… a reflection yeah… but something more than just optical identical illusion. i cried again hahaha i couldnt even tell what emotion i was crying from anymore. all i know is that i felt and that was enough for me. i sat with my head in my hands no longer able to gaze out into the ocean because we all know when you stare into the void it stares back….. like a mother fucking mirror haha…. i snorted something off that mirror and quit crying. to my sudden surprise i had noticed thousands… millions of ppl around me! maaaaan was i embarrassed! my sobbing must have drowned them out! and it was crazy cuz they was so loud! i didnt kno i was crying that loud. they were all shouting at me bruh like they had such a better grasp on everything than me, this was the first time i knew others rly existed.
they were so fucking annoying
my god they were annoying
they were shouting allll thhheeeee fuuckin tiiiime!
at me!
i looked out into the salty salty salty ocean again. i wondered if that was me then why was i so detrimental to myself? my mother said she was the salt of the earth…. why did she birth a slug? i thought about why i was there, i knew it was because of no reason really… just some crazy shit randomly happened and there i was. i dont know why i thought about it…. i already knew the answer from the start…. im stupid! at that point i felt myself squirm toward the ocean. i wasnt in control of my body, but it was what i wanted to do. i was very confused. i started to walk out on the water… walking over wave after wave after wave until it was unerringly still. not a soul was around me. i could finally breathe again. my body was slowly soaking up salt and i was drying out… “its now or never” i thought and i fell through– where ive been lost ever since


fuckboy status: achieved

  • A Castlevania fan, playing a LoS game for the first time: Hey this is actually pretty fun, I like the-
  • Half of the Castlevania fandom, breaking into their home: Lords of Shadow MURDERED my children, BURNED my crops, and CANCELED silent hills

So…..Sonic 06 is just a 15 year old hedgehog saving a like 18-20 year old princess from what ever the heck and a 14 year old hedgehog from the future thinks the 15 year old is evil and the 50+ year old man who doesn’t know who he is or is he evil or not he does what ever he feels like doing, then they come together go super and reset time so this game never happen, thats pretty much it








Coming Home
a Marlas fic written by Tracionn and theKASKproject
beta work done by Tiwtin
(read it on the AO3 | listen to the song we’re reffereing to)

Martin went to Zurich but he left a part of him behind in Fitton.
The question is: Will he get it back?

The manip was made to celebrate the result of collaboration with Tracionn, I was lucky to be involved in. 

It was a privilege to work with you, my dear! Thank you very much for being such a talented, creative, and adventurous fellow marlas shipper! ♥

written about this before but whatever.

Videogames as an artform have a problem with nostalgia. Not that people shouldn’t have nostalgia. Or that games shouldn’t draw from the past. But instead the weight we give to nostalgia.

When people go back to enjoy old games, we assume it’s a nostalgia thing. Do people assume that with books? Or movies? Or music? People certainly do go back in time with  those mediums for nostalgia! It happens! I know when my sister is listening to certain cheesy old boyband pop or punk she’s often having a musical nostalgia trip! That’s cool! But we still don’t ASSUME, CONSTANTLY thats why people go back to stuff.

People like old stuff because it’s cool and interesting. It’s historic. People go watch Metropolis still, but how many people alive could even be nostalgic for a movie like that?

I almost want to see the word Nostalgia excised from discussions about video games – not because nostalgia is bad but because we over use it to the point where it’s actually harmful I think.

I mean I made IWBTG and am making an NES style game right now and even for me, the obsession with ‘nostalgia’ seems crazy.

Old stuff is cool. I know this because I see a lot of you kids on my tumblr feed talking about games I know you didn’t grow up with. It’s like finding your parents record or CD collection. Thinking the primary greatness of old games is bringing back memories of eating cereal and playing games on a saturday morning is a great injustice, even if those memories for some are perfectly worthwhile things.

so because odlaws is having a bit of backlash from the recent poc disney art they posted i thought id show a bit of appreciation!!
im a native american/first nations person and pocahontas is my favorite disney princess; because her movie was the only time ive ever saw my people in it where they werent being killed by cowboys
and i see myself in her a lot despite her being an indian from virginia and me being an indian from saskatchewan
so i really love it when people draw pocahontas with more culturally accurate and modest clothing because even as a kid i thought her clothes were too plain and too small and my impression worsened when i got older and found out that the real pocahontas wasnt even 16 years old
and despite the fact that disney changed A LOT of things about her story (thats a post for another time) the fact that they dismissed her real age to make her old enough to be a sexy saucy indian woman falling in love with a sexy saucy white man bothered the hell out of me
so seeing artists respect her real age and/or the real dress of most native american cultures means a lot to me and i love what odlaws has done ❤️❤️❤️

if deacon is lying about his wife, or if ‘barbara’ is a metaphor for someone or something else, im only going to accept that barbara is a metaphor for the sole survivor and this was deacon’s way of telling them that if something happens to them it’ll destroy him ok listen

“she had a smile like one of those Old World advertisements” thats something yknow like how the survivor is from the old world “and those eyes…” thats vague enough to be anyone “she had a way of making you feel like humanity had a chance” well if the survivor is hearing this conversation then i assume its because theyve been spending all their time protecting people (or picking locks but w/e)