thats more likes than posts

Infection AU -Bad ending-

previous one: http://thebirdfromthemoon-art.tumblr.com/post/158073555662/thebirdfromthemoon-art-what-would-happen-i

Soooo i decided to make an AU out of this -kinda- but i couldn’t decide in which way i wanted it to go so f**** it let’s just make two different ending for this AU

And of course i’m starting by the “bad” one

Basically after Ladybug was hit by Chat Noir’ cataclysm she didn’t feel anything at first, since she have the ladybug miraculous she is more resistant to it BUT instead of killing her instantly like it would happen with a normal citizen the cataclysm “infection” gros slowly on her body affecting both her physical and mental state. In my idea she become “corrupted” like an akuma can corrupt someone into turning evil but a bit more intense.

I’ll probably draw the corrupted version of Ladybug, but it will more likely look like the design i’ve made in the past for akumatized ladybug.

Before commenting that mainstream media is not covering something, please take a sec away from Tumblr and open a new tab to check if that’s really the case.

why did i spend time on this  a word cloud of every key word the twelfth doctor has said - from ‘the time of the doctor’ to ‘the return of doctor mysterio’ (including class because how could i not). long story short, his catchphrase is clara (the larger the word the more it was said)

long story in its entirety:

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Dodie Clark Room Backgrounds

in all honesty, im super excited for season 3, especially sharing the experience with the fandom and my friends. when s2 came out the vibe and atmosphere was really nice, everyone hype-screaming & bonding over the show. it felt real nice to see the fandom happy and joking and im super pumped to go through it again during this season and more to come

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A plethora of Obi-Wan/Satine historical AU portraits!

(if I’m going to draw them repeatedly anyway, might as well involve some historical costuming practice while I’m at it, right?)

From the top:

Medieval AU (~12th century) - He’s a Templar, she’s a princess who opposes the Crusades. Given the eventual fate of the Knights Templar, this thing writes itself, right?

Musketeers AU (1630s) - Swashbuckling, courtly intrigue, seems legit.

Napoleonic Wars AU (early 1800s) - French aristocrat and British officer - he helped her escape France during the Revolution, now the war with Bonaparte is keeping them apart.

Victorian AU (turn of the 19th century) - He’s a philosophy professor, she’s a wealthy suffragette (this one might not be totally angsty as long as absolutely no one has tuberculosis).

WWII espionage AU (1940s) - CYOA if the cassock is a disguise or if he’s actually a priest for maximum angst and forbidden love. (Not sure if she’s holding forged papers or code books - basically, spies.)

This is the seventh installment in a series of book recommendations, all of which will introduce you to kickass women from mythologies around the world, all of them written by women. All books listed had to pass the following criteria: 

  • Be written by a woman
  • Be fictional
  • Have a woman as (one of) the protagonist(s)
  • Feature Russian or Slavic mythology

This recommendation list comes on the heels of the Asian mythology rec list, because I really wanted to include Russia (which falls under both Asian and Slavic mythology), but I wanted to keep the country as a whole in one post. @kostromas (x) and @lamus-dworski (x) (x) were kind enough to take some time answering my questions.

While I mainly looked for books ft. Russian and Slavic mythologies (I used this Wiki file as a measure to determine the Slavic region), I also include a few books with other origins, such as Norway and various Eastern European countries, because I think - out of all the recommendation posts I have done and plan to do - this is the one they would fit best in. 

Please note as well that there is a lot of overlap among most of these cultures, with different versions of a character appearing in many, so some of the below classifications may be rather arbitrary (I usually go with what’s 1) listed in the summary, then see if 2) the writer specifies a culture, or if 3) readers had helpful input).

UPDATE: It’s been brought to my attention that this post could do with some clarification and additions. To start with, I’d like to address the small number of books listed under Slavic. I don’t mean to say that only the countries listed are Slavic countries. The list is as limited as it is because I found it difficult to locate books that met all the above listed criteria, and an unconscious fifth - that they be written in English. If you take out any one of those criteria, a larger pool of books would open itself up, and I encourage you to consider that as an option.

While I understand that limiting these lists to books written in or translated into English is not ideal, I also don’t think I am the right person to judge which books written in Slavic languages should be included, as I am not Slavic and don’t speak or read Slavic languages. Readers should be aware though, that reading a book featuring Slavic mythologies or cultures, which are not written by someone who identifies as Slavic, may promote a stereotypical or otherwise harmful depiction of those cultures. 

Moreover, those authors who do hail from the relevant region are more likely to be published if they don’t push the envelope too much to be acceptable for a generic Western audience. Therefore, additional reading of books on and / or featuring Slavic mythologies or cultures can aid in understanding the context of these tales. I have listed a couple of books in the honourable mentions with that in mind, and I have decided to add an asterisk (*) to all works written by an author who is confirmed as hailing from the region their work is set in. Typically, I’ve listed one or two books per author, but do check for their other writing.

Finally, I should add that I might have made a mistake in including Russia in this list. This was done because I wanted to keep the country in one post, rather than splitting it between the Asian list and this one. The Asian one was sufficiently long I didn’t want to add it there, but I might have been better off creating a completely separate list for it rather than including it here.

With the above reasons in mind, I have decided to move the Slavic section up, I have added a number of entries throughout, and expanded the resources list at the bottom.

Slavic

Russia

Other regions (not Slavic or Russian)

Undefined / speculative

Historical fiction

Comics & graphic novels

Some collected tales

Poetry

Honourable mentions

Other lists you can consult

If you have any suggestions for other Slavic and / or Russian women who deserve more attention (and a corresponding book), or which mythology should definitely be in this series, drop me a line!

Other kickass women in mythology: women in Greek mythology | women in Egyptian mythology & historywomen in Mesoamerican mythologies | women in Celtic mythologies | women in Native American mythologies | women in Asian mythologies | women in pirate lore & history

dezacoke  asked:

Maybe Le Equius or Nepeta cuddle with whoever

i had to shrink the photo a lil bit ri p,, but i think?? this is what you meant :0

That’s How a Moment Lasts Forever - Post-BatB Oneshot

“Grandfather?”

“Mmm?”

“Why do you keep so many tea sets?”

The old man chuckled, leaning back in his armchair as he watched his littlest grandchild.  While her two older siblings had chosen to play outside in the snow, she stared at his bookcase, which, instead of being filled with books, was lined with teapots and teacups made of wood, porcelain, and china.

“Well, you know your father’s a potter; he gives me the ones that no one wants.”

“But do you even use them?” the girl asked.  “They’ve got chips and cracks in them.  They wouldn’t make good tea.”

“You are definitely your mother’s daughter,” the old man replied.  “I suppose…I keep them because they deserve a home, a place to belong.”

The girl raised her eyebrows.  “You make it sound like they’re alive.”

“Well…” The old man’s voice took on a spooky tone.  “Sometimes they talk to me at night.”

The girl laughed. “No they don’t!”

“No, they don’t,” he agreed, laughing in return.  “But can’t an old man have his hobbies?  I like antiques!  I’m a collector, always have been!  You see that?” He pointed at a tiny, intricately decorated box on the mantel above the fireplace.  “It plays a lullaby if you open it. The king’s grandfather made that for me when I was a boy.”

“Really?” The tea sets were momentarily forgotten as the little girl ran over to the mantel and seized the box in her hands.  

“Careful!” The man raised a gnarled hand, but there was no need; the girl set the box down with the utmost care.  She lifted open the box, revealing a tiny, incredibly detailed replica of a rose.  The rest of the inside was gold and cornflower blue, with a castle painted on the inside of the lid.  She located the winding handle on the side, and with a nod from her grandfather, wound it up and let it play.

At once, a little melody, strong but sweet, began to emit from the box, causing the rose to rotate slowly in place.  The girl sat, entranced by the box, while the man closed his eyes and hummed along.

“You won’t find a box like that anywhere else,” he finally said.  “That’s why it’s special.”

The girl waited until the last notes faded away, then looked up at her grandfather to ask him a question.  But what she saw startled her into concern rather than curiosity.

“You’re crying, Grandfather!”  She rushed forward, drawing out her handkerchief to wipe his tears away.  The song was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t a song that should be cried over!

“Ah, well…” He smiled and let her wipe away his tears.  “You are very kind.  My mother used to sing that song for me.”  He didn’t need to say the rest.  

“Oh,” the girl whispered.  “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” the old man reassured her, smiling.  “Besides, I let that old box play every day, and you don’t see me crying all the time, do you?”

“No,” the girl answered, grinning.  “You’re very cheerful.”

“Well that’s good,” he exclaimed.  “I’m glad I didn’t grow up to be an old grump like my father did.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes; she admiring the music box, and he gazing at the tea sets in the bookcase that he kept so well polished that the imperfections shone in the light.

“Do you want to know the real reasons behind the tea sets?” he asked suddenly, waking the girl from her short-lived reverie.  “Why I look after them like I do?  You have to promise not to laugh or walk away.”

The little one shrugged, but sidled up to her grandfather’s armchair.  “Okay.  Tell me.”

“Do you promise not to laugh?”

“I promise.” Her eyes gazed up at him, wide and trusting.

“It’s because I used to be one myself.”

The girl sat there, eyes wide, lips parted slightly in surprise.  She wanted to ask if it was a joke, but the old man looked completely serious.  And she was just at that age where she was learning to take care of herself, but still young enough to believe in fairy stories, if they were spun the right way.

“How?”

The old man’s lips curled into a real, genuine smile, one that only children would understand.  “Magic.”

“What happened?” the girl’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Well…sit back a little, and I’ll tell you,” the man replied.  “I was your age when this story took place.  It started with a spoiled prince, an old enchantress, and a young farm girl who saved us all…”


“You used to work at the castle?” the girl said after he had finished his tale.

“Well, it was mostly my mother; she was the head housekeeper.  I followed in the steps of my father, became a potter, and when I had your father, I taught him as well.  Hopefully your older siblings will carry on the family business for me.”

“I bet they will.”  The girl slumped in her chair.  But soon she straightened up again.  “Was the queen really an inventor?”

“Best in the world,” he replied.  “She’s the reason why you have a fountain behind your house for laundry.”

“Is the Enchantress still alive?”

“I have no idea. Probably.”

“Were the musicians really world-famous?”

“Of course they were.  Why would they lie?”

“Maybe to gain favor with the prince.”

“No, they’ve been in the paper before.  I have clippings, if you’re really that skeptical.”

“Wow…” For a moment she was lost in her own daydreams of what it would be like living with famous people.  But then another thought stole her mind away.  “Could Plumette really fly? Like a bird?”

“Even after the curse she could float for a while, if she wanted to.”

“And Lumiere?”

“What do you want me to say about him?  The man was an eccentric old codger right up until the day he…”  The man paused for a moment, lost in the past.  “Until he died.”

The girl pondered the word in silence, while the other sat in his armchair, thinking of times and thoughts that his granddaughter would never understand, no matter how much she listened, or how much she learned.  She would never learn to appreciate time as he had, especially now, after all these years.  And he was the last one, the one given the most time to contemplate what had happened.  Everyone else had already passed on.  

Sometimes, they would come to him in his dreams, as young as he remembered them that day: newly human and full of happiness.  Lumiere would ask him how old age was treating him, Chapeau would clap him on the back and comment on his family, his mother would wrap her arms around him and tell him how proud she was of him.  How proud they all were of him.

But Cogsworth always told him the time, how time was running out.  Tick-tock, there’s not much time left.  And though he always asked what Cogsworth meant, the old majordomo never explained himself, only kept repeating the same thing over and over again.  Even now, Cogsworth was still as incessant as a real clock.

And yet…though he had time well-spent…it never seemed like enough.  Well, not until now, as his youngest grandchild sat next to him, visions of magic and curses dancing in her head, the very age he was when the curse was cast.  Filled with the wonder of a story that would die with him.

“I have a special task for you, little one,” he murmured, and the girl’s eyes lit up.

“What is it?” she asked.  “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t forget the story I’ve told you today.  Not a single word of it.  Write it down somewhere, make it a book.  And tell your grandchildren.  And have them tell theirs.”

“All right,” the child said.  “Is it that important?”

“I don’t want anyone to forget them,” he continued.  “They taught me a lesson; I am sure they will teach others too.  You’ve probably been told that nothing lasts forever, haven’t you?”

“That’s right,” she said.  “Mother told me that.”

“Well…this story only happened in a moment, out of all the time in the world.  And when I die, the days I’ve lived will disappear.  But now that I’ve told you, you can tell other people, and those people can tell other people, and the story will last longer than any of us.”

He wasn’t much of a storyteller at this age, but he could do this much for his family.  He didn’t live his whole life just to die without people really knowing what happened all those years ago.  It wasn’t just some curse; lessons were learned, and love was restored to the castle.  

“Okay.  I promise I’ll do it.  And my children will do it too.”  

Chip smiled and closed his eyes.  He could picture them now, in the castle, carrying out their duties, royalty and service alike.  Some would call them ordinary, but to him they were the most important people in the world.  They didn’t deserve to be fleeting.  They deserved to live on.  Through story, through song, through legend.

That’s how a moment lasts forever…when our song lives on.

you gotta werk

or: a masterpost of hockey players working out

anonymous asked:

I like how you treat Kataang and zutara equally. You ship for fun I like that about you.

Finally, someone who gets that I multiship!

i know people are upset that we never got a full explanation of the the balloon squad/even’s story and that the boy squad and balloon squad magically appear to be friends now but honestly?? it could have easily happened off screen?? and that’s okay! I know people are disappointed but it’s sana’s season and she doesn’t hang out with the balloon squad or the boy squad or even so it makes total sense that they worked things out on their own time and we didn’t get to see what happened. Even’s not actually the season main y’all, it was just a side plot. like yes, it may be frustrating, but it totally makes sense. 

Starstruck

or: Four Times Moana and Maui Surprised the Crowd, and One Time They Did Not

My first shot at a 4-and-1 type gig! I tried to keep these short, but you know my writing, that didn’t end up happening. I think this is like seven thousand words total. Look, my hand just slipped for four hours straight. 

Happy, happy birthday to my dear friend @paperjam-bipper! You’re so old now, you shmuck. Congratulations. Hope you enjoy the gratuitous amounts of fluff I stuck in here, just for you. :) 


Fandom: Moana
Words: 7,400
Category: Gen
Relationship: Moana & Maui

Summary: Four times Moana and Maui surprised the crowd, and one time they did not. 


1. 

It’s when the first wave breaks on the deck of their ship that Aronui decides, quite firmly, that she does not like storms.

Even shielded as she is from the worst of the rain by her mother’s sturdy legs and swollen belly, there pellets of water sting against her eyelids, and Aronui has to squint to see the deck of the boat mere feet in front of her. Her hairband was lost long ago to the frenzy of the wind, which whips her hair around her face. When Aronui spares a hand to try and tame it, she ends up nearly ripping off the right half of her head.

“Hard about to port!” shouts a familiar voice, commanding against the fury of the storm.

Aronui looks over to see Moana astride the canoe. Despite the writhing waves that tower around her Moana looks at ease, balanced perfectly atop the edge of her canoe while wrestling with the halyard in both hands. She’s planted at one end of her tiny craft, which sways dangerously in the water, and is somehow using the boat’s instability to clamber up the side and look intently at Kara.

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also what he meant by “you wouldnt wanna upset the kid” is exactly that. dont do it. hes a nice kid why would you wanna do that you horrible people 

an extension of this comic so I can draw reigen being a good human being. also an actual doodle comic this time. that reminds me of why I dont do actual doodle comics often (hint: because I cant without rolling in my grave over how sketchy it looks)

Has this been done before?

I really want more fics of people comforting Sam post CACW… like yes the rest of the crew went through some shit but like most fics seem to forget Sam?? i mean he feels responsible for Rhodey’s near death (not helped at all by t.s. blaming him for dodging a blast) that likely reminded him of Riley’s death. Then he trusts tony with Steve’s location, which ends very poorly for Steve and Bucky (both of whom Sam cares about, even if he chirps them sometimes). Sam logically knows none of this is his fault, but he can’t help the irrational and overwhelming guilt of it all. He’s probably having nightmares more frequently than he’s had since he first got back stateside. Like give me Steve rubbing his back and wiping the tears away when he wakes up screaming out for Riley in the middle of the night. Give me Wanda sitting and listening to him talk about the guilt and regret he feels over everything. Give me Bucky silently coming over to sad Sam on the couch, putting his arm around him and holding him for a bit (Sam glares at him a bit at first, and says, “I still don’t like you”, before cuddling into him). Let Sam be angry, and sad, and frustrated at all of what’s happened, and let him have support along the way.