this is how we welcome legends

i work in a small fast-casual restaurant, the kind where customers pay up front when they order and then typically stop thinking about money. so, though we provide full service, the majority of customers never remember or bother to leave a tip. we never advertise, but over the years, we have become a major hit with locals, and people who use sites like yelp and tripadvisor.
one summer afternoon a couple years back, in the calm after the lunch rush, i was tidying up the dining room when my attention was drawn to the big front windows by the noise of an approaching bike gang.
these were big, fancy, customized motorcycles. as they filled a few of the parking spaces in front of the store, i moved to the register to prepare to take their orders, and my coworkers gathered behind the counter with me to admire the bikes. “i want the blue one,” said T. “i want the black one.. but in blue,” said A. W nodded in thoughtful approval of these choices.
the bikers’ helmets had previously concealed their faces, and when they removed their gear, T, who is black, breathed “they’re black!” in awe and admiration. then, the bikers entered the restaurant, where i was admittedly a little nervous about taking their orders. these were men of fine taste, and i was intimidated. would they be the type of customer to look down on us? would they be the type to request especially customized food and then be irritated if it failed to match up with their expectations?
the towering bikers looked up at the menu board, asked me some friendly, typical questions about the options, which put me at ease. they ordered, paid, then took their seats at a long table, where they were polite, gave a lot of positive feedback about the food, and i overheard one telling someone over cell phone where we were and what we served and how good it was. when they left, i found the cherry on top: a massive tip on the table.
this event has gone down in workplace history as the Legend of the Nice Bikers. the bikers had said multiple times that they loved the place and would return, but i have not heard from them since. i imagine they are traveling the world on a long motorcycle journey and eagerly await the day i can welcome them back.

Let me put in my own two cents on this week’s latest shipping controversy, if I may. 

First off, no matter which end of the debate you are on, just remember this is a cartoon, first and foremost. Discussion is always welcome, but there is no need to go attacking people and insulting them over their opinions. 

To dispell the argument that it is “homophobic” to have Jack/Ashi a canon hetero pair, let me ask: “How?” Straight people exist. Nowhere does the episode implicitly scream in our faces “suck on that, gays”. And being hetero does not imply that either. 

I think instead of getting mad at it being canon, perhaps in worry of gay representation or whatever, I think we should all consider the massive strides in LGBT representation in recent years for animation. Legend of Korra, Steven Universe, Adventure Time, Clarence, Star vs. the Forces of Evil, and probably more (Though keep in mind I have only seen Korra all the way through. But from my understanding, these other shows do a good job tackling the subject). It’s definitely becoming more acceptable for this sort of thing to air on television for cartoons. Samurai Jack is obviously a more adult program now where LGBT content is generally more widely accepted, but still. That in mind, be appreciative. The LGBT community worked hard for that sort of representation, and it’s working. Jack and or Ashi may not be explicitly gay, but they don’t have to be. 

As for the age gap issue, we don’t know Ashi’s age. We can assume she is at least the age of consent. I doubt the creators would push for a couple knowing that one of the two is underage. As for Jack, he physically hasn’t aged in fifty years. He’s probably in his early-mid twenties otherwise, likely putting him perhaps a few years older than Ashi. By my guess, that is. Either way, Ashi isn’t stupid. She seems just as into that final scene as Jack, showing she has the concept of consent. 

I’ve also heard the comment of pacing. Like it was rushed or something. Which look, for any other show, I would totally get. But keep in mind this season is running on a mere ten episodes. That’s not very long. Any development that takes place is probably going to have to happen over a rather short period of time as a result. But I can’t help but shake the feeling that if this was an LGBT pair, Tumblr would be silent. Or cheering. Regardless of the fact that the pacing would have been exactly the same. 

And you know, if you don’t like Jashi, that’s totally cool. Nobody said you had to. You are free to ship whatever the hell you want and I’m not going to judge you for it. But at the end of the day, this is still a creation of Genndy and he has the freedom to do as he pleases with his own show. I think most of us would agree that this season has been absolutely amazing so far. For me, none of these episodes have been even remotely disappointing. And if for whatever reason this episode lowers your opinion of the show because you aren’t getting your way with a ship, I think you need to consider why you are even watching it in the first place. Try to appreciate/judge the show as a whole and not just on the basis of a single couple. 

Hope that was cohesive at all. It’s four in the morning, so….

Just enjoy the rest of the show. We got two episodes left and I’m sure they are going to be fantastic. 

Sincerely, a gay man. 

Official Themes For Mick Rory Appreciation Week!

Thursday, September 28th: Mick’s Pyromania. How do you think he manages it (whether it be with Leonard on heists, on the Waverider, etc.)? How do you think his fascination for fire first ignited? Do you think Mick likes being this way?

Friday, September 29th: Favorite Relationship. (Friendship, platonic, romantic, sexual, etc.) Want to explore his past with Leonard (or with anyone else for that matter)? Want to share any sexual/romantic orientation headcanons? How do the others in his life impact him? (Any and all ships/orientations are welcome, y’all. Don’t be shy.)

Saturday, September 30th: An Alternate Universe. Are we talking another earth? What was his role on earth 2? Or any other earth? Do the legends take a trip to a screwy timeline where things are completely thrown off in regards to his life?

Sunday, October 1st: Food! What does Mick like/dislike? Does he like to cook? Does he like to bake? And this could go past his present on the Waverider– do you think he helped Leonard in their early years to cook meals for a young Lisa?

Monday, October 2nd: In Defense Of Mick. It may just be a few of us, but we’re not exactly fond of how the team/legends writers treat Mick. How would you fix that? You could alter an episode! You could write a self-insert where your character defends the hell outta him! The possibilities are endless.

Tuesday, October 3rd: The Rogues Gallery. How do you think Mick feels about the other rogues? How do you think he views the younger upstarts? His views on the originals? What do you think his position of power was in the gallery, considering Len was the captain?

Wednesday, October 4th: Free Day! Didn’t see a prompt that suited you? Want to create something simply to show your Mick appreciation? The choice is yours! Be as creative as you’d like as we end out the week!

Remember, these are just suggestions. These prompts are open for all kinds of interpretations. Also, we’re accepting all kinds of works: art, fics, edits, gifs, etc. We want this week to be full and spectacular, so all kinds of artistry is welcome!

If you have any questions, simply drop an ask by this blog @mick-rory-appreciation-week or @razzleyd!

We Make the Kingdom - Pt 10

Image by silverdagger865

Pairing: Yongguk x OC
Genre: Fantasy, with Angst and Smut
Summary:  After a vampire attack leaves you almost dead, you are rescued by a group of werelions, powers long thought to be extinct. Upon discovering the same magic flows in your blood, you join their fight against encroaching vampires and another, very human monster, to save the kingdom.
Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,  8, 9(M), 1011, 12, 13


 Sunlight washed silver by the rain mingles with the muted orange light of the fire inside the shelter. You lie on your side, tucked against Yongguk with your head on his shoulder. His arm hangs low to encircle your waist. The other supports his neck. Yongguk had initially stiffened when you’d pulled him down next to you and snuggled into him. You stayed silent, waiting him out. Gradually, your calm seeps into Yongguk’s body so he is completely relaxed.

           Still, you are afraid he will close in on himself again if you say what you most want to. Like with a skittish colt, you cannot brashly approach Yongguk head on. Instead, you need to carefully and gently come to him from the side until he is comfortable enough not to run away.

           You trace a finger over the ink on his chest, trying to follow a single line through the maze. “Why did you get tattoos when magic has no effect on us?”

           Yongguk wriggles at your ticklish touch. “The king may control my body, but he does not own it. Nor does he own my will. It was more to prove it to myself than anyone else. My own quiet rebellion.”

           “There cannot be many around here who do them.”

           “I had to sneak down to different harbor towns.” Yongguk’s hand hesitantly trails up to your hair to let it cascade through his fingers. When you murmur happily, he starts combing his fingers through your locks. “Lots of sailors get them as drowning protection or luck charms, but others want tattoos to commemorate different voyages. It wasn’t hard to find a charm seller willing to do a tattoo without the magic. Less work, they said.”

           “Sneak?”

Keep reading

What started off as a joke, soon became a reality with inspiration from decedent flora, stemmed a world known as Arilia. In this world strives three empires: Belori, Ciravus, & Tilaren. Each empire a reference to three powerful sisters that lived some time ago, who are mere legends now…

FRUCITAION is an open original character roleplay group that is inspired by fantasy & fruits. A strange combo but we hope to welcome all sorts of people– so please, come check us out!

HOME • ABOUT  • RULES MASTERLIST FORMS

crunchie-morris  asked:

Hey! I just kinda found the Frozen fandom on Tumblr with the trailer for Olaf's Frozen Adventure (bless) and I was wondering if you had any other Frozen blogs to recommend? Thanks!! 💙

hehehe welcome aboard ! :D (and yes, bless OFA ! More Frozen content heheheh yayyy)

it’s an honor for me to introduce you to the fandom. The thing is that, it’s a HUGE family !! 

so i could recommend you the first blogs that come to my mind, it’s not exhaustive at all and very not objective so feel free to type “Frozen Disney” in the top bar and click on follow on all the blogs that appear ! ;)

Here we go :

@maybellemilk - cutie patootie ; @elsalovestrees - how can you say no to that url ; @frozenoptimist - same tbh ; @disney-rapunzel-merida-vanellope - adorable legend ; @elsannafondue and @elsanna-in-love and @elsannapocky and @elsanna-ium are literal caves of joyful elsanna so YAY ; and finally as I do this with my only memory and my brain is VERY messy, the only reminding Frozen blog i have in mind right now is @super-mam-te-moc, the cutiest snowflake everrrrr

tadaaa :D

@flabbergabst replied to your post “LEONARD GAVE SARA HIS JACKET omg okay, fine, I’m on the Captain Canary…”

WELCOME TO THE FAMILY. PREPARE YOUR HEART, MY SWEET CHILD.

dsgklhsdglkh okay, so, story: when they first announced the Prison Break revival I read an article about it in Entertainment Weekly and they talked about how Leonard was killed in Legends of Tomorrow. Fast forward many months, forgot about it entirely. Started watching the show and shipping Captain Canary. And then last night we were watching the Prison Break revival and suddenly i remembered and I was like nooooooo why did I start watching that show before finding out if he comes back!! Of course now I’m hooked for other reasons so I’m just gonna suffer lmao. BUT ANYWAY, THANK YOU. I’m not sure my heart is prepared even with this knowledge tbh but I’m stuck here now lmao. I’m on episode 1x14

horror nights #2: cult classics

welcome to round two of horror nights everyone! the first night was such a success, i’m so excited to do this again! so this week, let’s watch some cult classics!

we’ll be watching

  • i know what you did last summer (1997)
  • urban legend (1998)

how it’ll work:

  • once again we’ll be viewing in my rabb.it room!
  • spots are limited to around 20 so you MUST reserve them in advance. movies will begin at 2:00 PM EST, sunday, september 24th. please do not reserve a spot if you aren’t completely sure you’ll be available. if you’ll be a little late, that’s okay.
  • we’re still doing spot reservations because it helps me figure out if it’s even worth having the movie night (or in this case day)
  • priority for spots will go to my followers as the whole point is to watch movies with you guys.
  • the night before we watch the movies, i’ll make a post with the list of people attending. you’ll be listed by your url, and this will be your reminder, along with details on how to get into the room.

to reserve a spot:

  • just send me an ask!
  • no IMs please!

alright folks let’s get spooky again!

I AM the Chosen One

I was young when the monks came to my village and told me I had been chosen. I was a rice farmer’s daughter and knew nothing of fates and destinies, I had always believed I would grow up to tend the rice fields as my parents, grandparents and great grandparents had before me.

But the monks believed otherwise. “You’re the One” they cried, I had never been looked upon with such reverence as I was in that moment, “A girl with skin as black as night and eyes of earth and sea, she will be our saviour and bring about a new era of prosperity!”

Indeed I was a girl with skin as black as night, with an eye of brown and one of teal, this seemed as much evidence as the monks needed to insist that I be taken to their temple, to learn their ways and train for my destiny.

My parents, though they would miss me, were more than happy to oblige, I would be given a good home, with enough food to keep me well, and the monks would have herbs of healing if I were to get sick, my poor village had none of these luxuries and so my loving, caring parents sent me away, they were happy to believe that I could achieve greatness and make a change to our land.

The monks were kind and respectful, and as they had on our first meeting, would only look upon me with a shine to their eyes that I imagined a God would find in the eyes of their worshippers. Yet though they had only the utmost respect for me, they did not spoil me. My clothes, food and lodgings were as humble as any other monks, they would scold me fairly if I misbehaved and praise me when I did well, I trained among other acolytes and was not given any favouritism (though I could sense they wished dearly to).

The monks were weary of raising me spoiled, and had mastered the art of avoiding such tragedies. So it was that I came of age, a wise, strong and competent young woman who was ready to depart on my journey.

I was to travel and the fates would throw tests upon me, the great size and strength I had been gifted aided me well in battles against savage beasts. The meditation and mindful thought practices taught to me by the monks proved an asset when faced with manipulative Fae creatures who prayed on loose thoughts and rampant emotion to bend you to their will. Growing up in poor farming conditions had taught me to be humble and kind to those who had little, and to always break bread and share rations with those who so kindly gave me lodgings.

Over the years of my journey I had become battered and bruised, leaving scars to remind me of my past triumphs and losses, my will had been bent and nearly broken but in the end was all the stronger for it. I made friends and enemies and learned lessons about naivety and ignorance and all the flaws I had grown with were gradually swept away by the experience and knowledge I gained on my quest.

Until finally, with a warm heart, a full mind, and a lifted spirit, I returned to the monks, a sight different from how I left. A scar gained, an arm lost, strength doubled, will unbreakable. A warrior, a diplomat, a hero, a Legend.

I expected a humble hero’s welcome, I expected proud faces and shining eyes.

I received none of these things. “You have returned.” the single monk at the gate regarded me coldly. “We thought you may have perished.” I did not miss the disappointed tone in his voice.

He took me inside and I met with the head of the temple, he kept his composure well, but I could read from his body what his face would not betray. He was furious.

“You are not the Chosen One.” he told me.

It was the first time I had ever been told such a thing. I would have thought this a test some years ago, before I learned how to read through lies, and sense deceit. There was no deceit here.

“We spoke with your parents after you left for your journey, we spoke to them many times, they asked about you and we kept them informed of your progress when your letters came. When you wrote of a male colleague you were journeying with we were concerned about… accidents… occurring. It is difficult to quest when you are with child after all.”

He had poured himself tea, he did not offer me a cup. I would not have been able to swallow even a mouthful anyway, I knew where this was conversation was going… and I was terrified.

“Your parents told us something interesting. You are not capable of carrying a child, they said. We had always assumed your physical development was simply the way you were built, broad shouldered and small waisted, we believed it was the fates giving you the body of a warrior.”

He sipped his tea, taking longer than was necessary. He was watching me, watching me sweat and shake.

“You have the body of a MAN.” his composure finally slipped, he slammed the cup back down on the table, an acolyte outside the door jumped at the sound but did not come in to investigate. “The prophecy told of a GIRL, a GIRL with skin as black as night. A GIRL with eyes of earth and sea. SHE will be our saviour and bring about a new era of prosperity!” I had heard these words many times over, but never had they felt so sharp, so raw, so painful.

“You have lied to us from the very beginning! You are no Chosen One, we wasted all these years, all this effort, all our hopes and dreams all for just some common rice farmer’s SON.”

He waited for my denial, he waited for my excuses, my apologies, my grovelling for forgiveness. I did not give him any of these things. I gave him the truth.

“I have the body of a man,” I said to him, “But I am a woman, from birth I have been a woman, as soon as I could speak I asked that my parents call me by a woman’s name. I wore women’s clothes and grew women’s hair, all my life I have spent being a woman to all those who have met me, all those who know me know me as a woman. You taught me yourself that your mind and your spirit can hold truths that the body could never know, and my spirit knows that I am more than my body, my spirit knows that I AM A WOMAN.”

It was my turn to lose my composure. My voice blew open the chamber door, it thundered through the temple halls and onto the grounds. It brought with it wind and energy and POWER. Magick that I had learned and woven into my voice, imbued into my very being. My words were power, and that power rattled the hearts and minds of all those who believed me to be what I was not.

A man.

The head monk sat speechless, eyes wide. I waited, time passed.

He pointed to the door. The look in his eyes made it clear that I was no longer welcome here.

I left, I did not bow in respect as was custom, he had lost his right to my respect. I had given up my family for his prophecy, I had given up my home, my hand. But it was not enough, because after everything I had gone through, the journeys I had taken, the quests I had completed, the tests I had passed, none of it was enough for the monks.

Because the Gods gave me a body that was not meant for me.

I would love to say I was above it all. I was above feeling hurt by the monks’ rejection, I was above feeling furious and betrayed and lost and… and… I didn’t even know what else I felt, but I did know that out of all the heartbreak and loss I had ever experienced in my travels, this day left them all behind. The monks had been my family and they had deserted me. The destiny I had been promised had been taken away in a fleeting moment.

Perhaps they were right, perhaps I was no Chosen One. I was just a rice farmer’s daughter. If the monks had rejected me for my false body, why not destiny? Why not fate? Perhaps there truly was another girl with skin as black as night and eyes of earth and sea, one with a body that truly matched her mind, perhaps all this time I had been playing someone else’s role…

I did not know what to do with myself after this revelation. I had no path without the monks’ guidance. So I went home.

My parents were more than happy to see me again. We hugged and kissed and they served me a bland dinner of rice and fish and it tasted like home and love and acceptance. My mother told me I had grown to be a beautiful strong woman, my father told me I had made our village proud. They had heard stories of me, would you believe it? Stories of my exploits had spread so far and wide they had made it back to my little village, to my home.

Despite everything I slept well that night.

The monks continued looking for their Chosen One, but could find nothing. Some years passed, I tended the fields with my mother and father, I helped the village in ways no one else could, blowing away storm clouds with my magick, setting complex rodent traps that only I knew how to build. I could carry more supplies than any. I helped everyone. I was loved. It was nice. It was calm.

It was wrong.

Everything within me yearned for bigger things, my spirit wished to soar, my body ached to battle, my mind was desperate to be challenged. There were people I wanted to see, places I wanted to visit, problems in the world that had yet to be solved. My home village, as peaceful and quaint as it was, could not be my home any longer.

I rubbed a hand over the stump of my right arm, I gently touched the scar marring my perfect black skin, the scar running over the eye that was the colour of tilled earth. I had lost so much, things I could not get back, my sacrifices had been wasted here in the rice fields. I had a destiny to fulfil, and if the monks weren’t going to tell me where to find it, I was going to track it down myself.

I travelled the roads on which I began my journey, back then a tall, wiry sprig of a girl with a heart full of adventure, I travelled this road now with shoulders that could carry the world, a heart hardened by pain and softened again by love. It was ready to begin this journey anew. My quest now was not to better myself, not to prove to anyone that I was worthy, that I had to be given my path, that I was reliant upon any prophecy.

My quest now was to make my mark upon this world. To help it and to change it, I would aid those in desperate need, tear down the walls of the ones who hoarded their treasures, I would start rebellions and topple corrupt systems.

Because regardless of the body the Gods gave to me, I AM the girl with skin as black as night and eyes of earth and sea, and I will be your saviour and bring about a new era of prosperity.

…hi hi, so I wrote this thing because the idea of fairytale scenarios involving people of different genders and sexualities is so interesting to me, so I gave writing it a shot. I am not trans so I don’t have the insider info on what it’s like but I tried very hard to be respectful. If there is anything offensive, disrespectful or just wonky about my portrayal I am very sorry and please let me know what I can do to fix it.

Mad respect for all y'all non-binary folk out there, I very much hope I did you justice ~

3

“Thank you to everyone here today for being enthusiastic about Heads Together. We launched the campaign last year and are extremely proud to support the life-changing work of our eight Charity Partners. We are also very grateful for the support of our Founding Partners.

Mental health matters to each and every one of us. It matters just as much as our physical health. The crews I have worked with, whether RAF Search and Rescue or Air Ambulance, must take their mental health as seriously as they do their physical health or else they would not cope – and, actually, that is true for everybody at some time or another in their life. There are times when, whoever we are, it is hard to cope with challenges – and when that happens being open and honest and asking for help is life-changing.

Talking to someone else is a positive and confident step to take – but for too long it has been a case of ‘Keep Quiet and Carry On’. As a result, too many people have suffered in silence for too long, and the effects of this can be devastating.

The three of us are really optimistic that things are changing. We believe that 2017 can mark a tipping point for mental health – a moment when more and more people no longer feel they have to bear the weight alone for fear of judgment.p>

It is no exaggeration to say that conversations – simple conversations – can be life-changing: in a workplace, in your kitchen at home, with a friend, family member or colleague.

And that’s what Catherine, Harry and I want to do – we want more people to be having those conversations.

It is our ambition to make this year’s Virgin Money London Marathon the Mental Health Marathon – a major opportunity to help change the conversation on mental health, and to get people talking. And for that, we really need your help.”

The Duke of Cambridge


“As William has said we have heard time and time again in the course of our work how talking can help heal the hidden challenges we can’t deal with alone. We have seen that two heads are better than one when dealing with a mental health problem.

Yet, the challenge that so many people have is not knowing how to take that first step of reaching out to another person for help. Admitting that they are not coping. Fear, or reticence, or a sense of not wanting to burden another, means that people suffer in silence – allowing the problem to grow larger and larger unchecked.

William, Harry and I have been very privileged to witness in the course of our work countless examples of simple conversations that have changed lives, which were the first step on a path to recovery. Just last week at the Anna Freud Centre, I heard from one mother how talking to a support worker was – in her words – like medicine. Simply by having someone there to have a conversation with helped her immensely.

So the question that William, Harry and I have asked ourselves is how we can get more people to start talking. How do we encourage people to take the first step.

What Heads Together is proposing is that in the weeks leading up to the Marathon, our campaign will showcase people from all walks of life, talking about the life-changing conversations that have helped them with their mental health challenges.

We hope that these real-life examples will serve as encouragement to others to do the same.

If we succeed with this, we will have taken a powerful step in normalizing mental health as an issue in our society, thinking about it as we do our own physical health.

Harry will explain more in a moment about what you can do to help us with this challenge.

But first I would like to introduce Jon, who is running for Heads Together in the Marathon; and Steve, who will tell you the story of how a conversation made such a big difference to their mental health.

Jon and Steve … thank you.”

The Duchess of Cambridge


“Thank you, Jon and Steve, for sharing your conversation and the impact that it’s had on your lives; and thank you Jon for running for Heads Together. I’m reliably informed that you’ll run it in under four hours! Good luck with your training!

Over 500 people will be running for Heads Together, leading from the front (well perhaps not right at the front!), raising funds for the vital services provided by our Charity Partners. These runners will also be leading by example by starting conversations on mental health with their families, friends and colleagues.

It has been unbelievably encouraging to see that attitudes towards mental health across the country are beginning to change. In the past, the phrase ‘mental health’ would be translated to mental illness. But thankfully that is changing! As a result of family, school or work pressures, everyone’s lives are lived at a frightening pace and these stresses can often seem overwhelming.

Some will ignore the signs of stress, others will insist they’re ok after losing a loved one. Some will be afraid to ask for help, others won’t have anyone to turn to.

One thing is certain, we are all wired differently. We all have mental health; and we’ll say it again and again and again, if you want to be fit, healthy and set yourself up for success then your mental fitness is absolutely as important as your physical fitness. Everyone would get help for a broken leg, so why not seek help for an issue that could hamper you and others around you.

The truth is we can all help each other. You don’t need any qualifications to help your mate out, simply to listen to what they have to say.

At the heart of this campaign is our hope that no-one should be afraid to ask for help, and no-one should worry about knowing how to help. That initial conversation could be the cure, before it has a chance to manifest itself.

The BBC have announced today that they are running a season on mental health to coincide with the Marathon, which is fantastic news. But every single one of you in this room can help too.

You are all role models and highly respected people in your industries - the way you talk about mental health will have a profound effect on millions of people, whether you’re speaking from personal experience or encouraging those around you to do the same.

So please could I encourage you all to have a conversation with the Heads Together team, who are here today, and share your ideas.

We need as many people as possible – famous or not – who can help showcase what it’s like to have a conversation with a friend, family or stranger. All your ideas are welcome.

I would now like to introduce Rio Ferdinand – a sporting legend but perhaps, just as importantly, someone who is leading the way in talking openly about mental health.

I first met Rio last summer when he joined our Heads Together BBQ and I talked with him, his dad and friend Ben about how the support we give each other can help us through the darkest of times and come out a stronger person.”

Prince Harry

Hey guys! Welcome to the Legend of Zelda Art Challenge!

Every day, this blog will hold a timed trial. At 8pm EST, the challenge will be posted with the prompt and how long you have to complete it (ie. 30 minutes, an hour, etc.). Once time is up, you’ll have 15 minutes to submit your work.

It’s very simple, and meant for participants to have fun and practice their skills. If you can, please share this so we can get it up and going!

To give it time to circulate, the first challenge will take place on June 8th at 8pm EST. Hope to see you then!

What Utapri is to me

I’ll be honest. I did got just a bit tired of Utapri at around season 3 because of the plot and story is starting to get ridiculous even for me. But still I kept on watching till season 4 because despite the plot, I still love their songs.

Every time I try to get away, their songs always pulls me back in. Especially in the last episode of season 4. I watched with tears and smiles on my face. This episode reminded my again of why I love Utapri in the first place. It’s not because of the fanservice or pretty boys (although they are a plus). It’s because this series gives me so much love and happiness and hope with their music, characters and everything. 

So I’d just like to write out on how I got to know Utapri and how I became who I am right now because of it. It’s going to pretty long so I kept in under a Read More but it’ll mean a lot to me if people would read and understand me as a person more. ^^

Keep reading

Panic at the Disco lyrics - Sentence Memes

  • If you love me let me go.  
  • You put a sour little flavor in my mouth now.
  • And I believe this may call for a proper introduction…
  • If you talk, you better walk, you better back your shit up.
  • Oh, if you only knew, what we’ve been up to. I guarantee you’d keep it secret.
  • I’m cutting my mind off, it feels like my heart is going to burst.
  • Am I who you think about in bed?
  • Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?
  • I don’t love you, I’m just passing the time.
  • Fifty words for murder and I’m every one of them.
  • You’ve never been so divine in accepting your defeat.
  • In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off?
  • So gentlemen, if you’re gonna preach, for God sake preach with conviction!
  • I’m wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.
  • Cold and alone, it suits you well.
  • I set my expectations high, so nothing ever comes out right.
  • I’d rather be a cannibal, baby. Animals like me don’t talk anyway.
  • I’m the new cancer, never looked better, and you can’t stand it.
  • It looks like the end of history as we know, It’s just the end of the world.
  • You’ve got ‘em wrapped around your finger, watch ‘em fall down.
  • I know it’s mad, but if I go to hell, will you come with me or just leave?
  • Bury me alive, 'cause I won’t give up without a fight.
  • There’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you’ve paid for.  
  • I’m a fly that’s trapped in a web. But I’m thinking that, my spider’s dead.
  • Lonely, lonely little life, I could kid myself, in thinking that I’m fine.
  • There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends.
  • I really hoped that you would stay, but you left and went your own way.
  • At night your body is a symphony, and I’m conducting. 
  • Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in, we both know you’d already win.
  • Fall to your knees and kiss the ring.
  • All that hate is gonna burn you up, but it keeps me warm at night.
  • Endless romantic stories, but you never could control me.
  • If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go.
  • All the secrets that you keep? Might get spoken while you sleep…
  • If it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine…
  • Heroes always get remembered, but you know legends never die.
  • Mortal kings are ruling castles, welcome to my world of fun.
  • I’ve lost control and I don’t want it back. I’m going numb, I’ve been hijacked.
  • Wanna be free, wanna be loved. Wanna be more than you’re thinking of.
  • I’m taking back the crown, I’m all dressed up and naked. I see what’s mine and take it.
  • Mom and Dad, looked me right between the eyes. Then I awoke, a blinding light.
  • In these coming years, many things will change. But the way I feel, will remain the same.
  • I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you. So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do.
  • Stay for as long as you have time. So the mess that we’ll become, leaves something to talk about.
  • Trembling hands play my heart like a drum, but the beat’s gotten lost in the show.
  • I don’t mind take your time, I got things to do, besides sit around and wait for you.
  • You remind me of a former love that I once knew, and you carry a little piece with you.
  • I hope you didn’t expect that you’d get all of the attention. Now, let’s not get selfish.
  • You fooled me once with your eyes now honey, you fooled me twice with your lies.
  • You’re such a pretty thing, to be running from anyone. A vision with nowhere to go.
  • I believe that half the time I am a wolf among the sheep, gnawing at the wool over my eyes.
  • I swear to God, I’d never heard a better sound coming out, then when you’re whimpering my name from your mouth.
  • Haven’t you ever heard of, closing the god damn door?!

anonymous asked:

Do you still do requests? If this is a yes, can you please draw sakura as orihime and naruto as hikoboshi? (They're from the tanabata legend) Thank you ♡♡

Yes, dear! >u<)) ♥ and here we are,.. I grant your lovable request! ♥♥♥

Hikoboshi Naruto and with his Orihime Sakura. I don’t know how to say, but I really excited like you already know that I coloring my fanarts mostly like a clouds. Haha! xD

Anyway, this Narusaku Tanabata Legend theme really suitable for me. And it’s my pleasure welcome, I hope you like it!~♥  :)

[ WARNING: CLASSIFIED ]

//: LOADING PROFILE: KIT BEISEL …

age: 40
gender id: cisgender male
genesis: hybrid
position: smuggler
status: taken

//: LOADING HISTORY …

KIT GLADIUS BEISEL: A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS

People always ask if he has a heart. If only they knew. That’s the thing about people who have learned how to survive; no one ever knows what it’s taken to get them there.

But we needn’t begin this tale at it’s conclusion.

PART ONE: BABE FAST-FORWARDS THROUGH BOYHOOD

The first thing about his childhood that he can remember is his mother’s eyes, the warm brown of them so welcoming, so soft, so the opposite of everything that he would eventually become.

His birth was the kind of thing that people wrote legends about, a babe come weeks before his time with a faulty heart in a world that lived on ruin and regulation. If it hadn’t been for the fact that a wealthy, generous man’s wife had been admitted at the same place, at the same time, Kit would have never lived through the week, much less for the rest of his life. A mechanical heart, that was the first and last gift Kit would ever receive. Ironic, really, that the man accused of being so heartless could point to his chest and tell those soft-hearted people they were exactly right.

In truth, the Beisel name had never been one associated with greatness, much to the great chagrin of one Kit Gladius Beisel. He would work his entire life to change that, to change his fate, to take destiny by the horns and manipulate it into something of his very own choosing. Unfortunately, he was born into the exact same kind of life many of his peers would lead, growing up running through the vibrant, dangerous streets of Crest. A boy who was born to be alone, a boy who would hone that ability every day from the moment his wailing screams pierced the Wrotham air, Kit was the definition of a diamond in the rough. His was a name that rattled around their neighborhood with an unrelenting fervency. Kit Beisel, trickster, devil,problem child. That is, of course, pretty much every child in that type of neighborhood was a problem child, not just the boy with too much time on his hands and a pension for making other people look bad. That was the thing about Kit; from the moment he could prove himself capable he’d already outshone all of his competitors. A spark of life where you’re hard-pressed to find a child interested in learning about anything other than how to get his hands up a girls skirt without her crying, it was all anybody could do to keep Kit away from opportunities to learn something new. It was a horrible way to live, a child’s body turned into a prison when filled with the mind of someone so carefully clever, someone so wholly adult.Looking back, there’s an undeniable brilliance to his past that many people who once knew him have to admit, but at the time he received more scoffs than nods of respect.

Crest was never his home, this much he’s sure of, because surely a home couldn’t be so cold. The whole place was infected with the stink of dead dreams and trembling fists were far more common than the warmth of a mother’s kiss. Worst part though was the acceptance, the whole neighborhood’s ability to take what meager means had been given to them without anyone seeming to demand more. It was revolting really, the way they could inhale more cigarette smoke than fresh air, the way they could walk through the halls of their building and pretend not to hear the sobbing of their single mother neighbor. It wasn’t a tragic fate, but by no means was it a kind one either – a life of being relegated and regulated, of eating drugstore food and wearing the same clothes day after day because it was all he could afford. It wasn’t what he wanted, this life of accepted misfortune, of accepted dilapidation.

The food his mother and father bled themselves dry for always tasted metallic to him, and he vowed to one day never need to take from them again.

PART TWO: BOYHOOD IS BURNING

It started with drugs, as all these kind of tales do.

People always said how lucky he was, how he had struck a great fortune to have parents with not only steady work and a good work ethic, but also who loved and cared for their three children. People had the audacity to tell him you got it good kid. Again, if only they knew.

He was a diamond-mind trapped in a family ruled by mediocrity, a jagged-edged boy capable of transforming himself into a grand masterpiece of brilliant cleverness and smooth curves if only the world would give him the chance. A middle child with too much time to himself, the Beisel boy was left to use his wits and wiles more often than not and and it made him quicker than the flash of a whip, a lion among the pack of wolves always trying to rip his throat out. He could have been a good enough son to have, a boy too smart for his own good though knows when there is a better, more lucrative life for him, and he made that more than clear to the people he called family. He didn’t want to owe anybody anything, and with someone else putting food in his mouth, that’s exactly what having a family felt like. Perhaps it was the hands of fate that dropped the Cryton into his hungry lap, but Kit doesn’t like to attribute his induction to what would later be his entrance into his entire life to something as arbitrary and ridiculous as fate.

Maybe it was dangerous, and maybe he should have chosen a different life for himself, but there was something so decadently delicious about the darkness, about truly seeing the dark under-belly of the world he had grown up in, a world that he had held in particular distain for as long as he could remember. It was like waking up, like coming up for fresh air. It began with a low-level dealer, a boy who lived in the building adjacent to Kit’s own, a familiar face shrouded in darkness. He approached Kit, said that his boss was looking for another person to start selling his product, and he had vouched for Kit having known what a… clever boy he was. Kit accepted without a second thought, curious to see how he could control the darkness he had come to resent. Eventually he realized that he had found his calling in the darkness, found that it wasn’t the darkness that he had loathed, but the way it had seemed to control his life, to control the life of everyone around him. He hated hated the darkness,he’d been envious of it.

As we said, it began with the drugs, but that was never going to be where it ended. Kit Beisel was a boy, now nearly a man, who had worked his way into the inner circles of crime, had somehow managed to get in good with boss after boss, and slowly but surely, he wanted more once again. It wasn’t good enough to just sell on the street, he wanted to be in charge of distribution on a larger scale. He helped to spread the disease that had consumed his neighborhood and didn’t care about the lives he was ruining in the process as long as he kept on making money. Instead of letting drugs pin him to the ground by their boot, he took the industry and made it his own. Like we said, he was a sharp-edged thing, dangerous and devious, and he could have cut glass with the diamonds rattling around his head. As Kit Beisel grew from child to boy, and then boy to teen, word spread through the underground about the pretty young thing climbing his way through the ranks. When he’d made enough money he bought the most extravagant, exciting thing he could possibly think to buy: a starship, a government-grade, light-weight frigate that he would later make famous.

How did you survive? people sometimes like to ask him when they catch wind of what they saw as his sad little story, when they heard that he had given himself to a life of crime when he’d barely been an adult. By becoming the better monster.

PART THREE: MAN FINDS A HOME

What is a dream coming true if not a beautiful boy staring out at the stars for the first time from his very own starship?  

Buying the ship had been a no-brainer, and no one in their right-mind ever thought it was a bad idea. Every person he bragged about his purchase to looked at him with eyes wide and mouths agape for owning your own starship was no small feat, and it made the already impressive man that much more intimidating, that much more grand. He still bore all of the weight that came with a childhood spent hating childhood, but now his head was held high, made a new man not because of random happenstance, but because he had forged himself anew. He slipped between the cracks of hunger and opulence at his first opportunity and he never looked back. Carefully, he crafted himself and his new ship into something that his bosses would never be able to turn away: a ship that could outrun any ship that the government sent after it, a man that could charm his way out of any run in with the law he had. He was a sly young man now, a dark-haired harbinger of all the things he had once turned his now up at and scorned. Day after day, night after night, he spent countless hours going over all of the circuit boards in his ship, spent weeks enhancing the light-speed function of the ship so that he could ensure safe passage for his patrons and their goods. He made himself excellent, he made himself invaluable.          

Among the stars, surrounded on all sides by that inescapable vastness, Kit was a changed man, abetter man, an extraordinary man. Among the stars, Kit was the man he knew he’d been destined to become.

PART FOUR: HOME IS A FIGMENT OF OUR IMAGINATION

Enigmatic and devastating, even Kit wasn’t immune to the government. It didn’t matter that his shit was one of the fastest in the system, because that only mattered if it was able to get in the air and into light speed – Kit never got that chance.

Years of experience and his own over-confidence worked in tandem, and they created something he should have known better than to create: ignorance. During his many years working as a smuggler, Kit had garnered a reputation for excellence, and was more often than not entrusted with his clients most-expensive assents and he worked as one of the top smugglers out of Wrotham. A self-proclaimed expert with the pedigree to back it up, it was no wonder when very wealthy private citizen approached him and asked him to smuggle amassive shipment of the very substance that had gotten Kit into the crime business in the first place: Cryton. He was to smuggle it out, but before he got the chance he realized that he was about to be boarded by an entire horde of government officials and had to dump the entire shipment before he got caught with it.

For the first time in years, Kit had failed. And now he’d put a price on his own head.

PART FIVE: [ NAME REDACTED. CONTACT: THE BENEFACTOR ]

Kit was approached only a week after the price had been put on his head.

The Benefactor had offered him twice the price. No small feat.

A man in debt will do crazy things to save his own skin, and Kit has found that he is no exception to that rule. So, he took what he could and said goodbye to  no one.

The truth was, he didn’t really have anyone to say goodbye to.

//: LOADING NOTES …

After some consideration it was obvious we would need a skilled individual to help any side missions that contain a more… sensitive connotation. Although it may be obvious this is a selfish individual who is mostly out for themselves, I am also aware loyalty can not only be earned, but it can be bought. As such, I’m confident payment is more than enough to encourage their duty to the success of their mission, if not the well-being of the crew. 

//: LOADING KNOWN ASSOCIATES …

  • NYENA - You recognized their last name and were glad to get to know another Shastri, after knowing their father so well. What you found was a complete surprise: at first you considered them to be a potential ally, someone who shares your understanding of the world and isn’t bothered by other’s emotions, only their own, but, after careful inspection, you could see it as a facade, a strategy used by so many as a shielding mechanism. All the enthusiasm was lost and now you can’t wait to shed their mask for everyone to see.
  • ERETREIA - You knew her once before, in a different environment, wrapped in clothes and cloak of different meaning, still the scrappy little girl but not alone, nor as lonely as the individual they present to be now. You were once a crew before you decided to go your separate ways.

//: LOADING APPEARANCE…

Oscar Isaac

Mama Bear

chinesespiders asked:

Could you write on where the boys go off on a hunt and the reader who just joined them and is not a hunter doesn’t know. So when they get back all bloody and tired. She mothers them and hugs them and doesn’t want to let go. Thanks so much!!!

Keep reading

How I Picture Riot Was Able To Get Madison Square Garden
  • Riot: Yes hello we'd like to host an event are your location
  • MSG People: Cool, for what?
  • Riot: League of Legends!
  • MSG: What?
  • Riot: A competitive video game. E-Sports!
  • MSG: You want to use our facility to play video games?
  • Riot: Yes. I can guarantee we will sell out two back to back days
  • MSG: HAHAHAHAHA
  • Riot: *Holds up figures from Staples Centre in L.A 2 years previously*
  • MSG: YES HELLO WELCOME TO MADISON SQUARE GARDEN. WE WILL GLADLY LET YOU PLAY YOUR MARIO KART HERE
Sugar on the Asphalt: Thirty-One
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Again, sorry this took so long! Hope it was worth the wait. I’d love to hear what everyone thinks! <33

Previous chapters

***

cookies and cream cupcakes ‘round here; august 11, 2013

Selfridges was having an end-of-the-season sale. That was the only reason I found myself in the juniors’ section Sunday morning. After stopping by the park with a dozen cookies and cream cupcakes for morning chess, I decided I wasn’t going to stay much longer than it took to ask the boys about how their weekly doctors appointments went. I had too much to do today, and while I would have loved to sit with Flo and ask her how the grandkids were doing, I didn’t have the time.

Keep reading

I've been trying really hard...

But I just can’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

Look, I do not want to get involved in a ship war.  I really just want to sit back and enjoy the fact that one of my ships, which I honestly had no hope for, became canon.

But the Makorra shippers are pissing me off.

You are free to ship Makorra if you want.  I don’t care.  Go right ahead.  Ship Makorra til you’re old and gray.  I don’t care.

But to everyone out there who’s written a long, deep essay about how wrong Korrasami is because Mako earned Korra, like she’s some prize at a carnival game, please, shut up.

Women are not prizes to be earned.  They are not vending machines that you put kindness or heroism tokens in until sex or a relationship falls out.

Mako could have saved the world five times over blind folded with one arm tied behind his back, and it wouldn’t entitle him to a relationship with Korra.

That’s not how relationships work.  That’s not how love works.

Korra is not a prize to be won, or a thing to be earned.  No woman is.

If your whole argument is that Mako did X and therefore deserves to be with Korra, your argument isn’t just wrong, it’s unhealthy, twisted, and just down right sick.

If your argument makes use of the term “friendzoned,” then your whole argument isn’t just wrong, it’s unhealthy, twisted, down right sick, and makes you look like an entitled jerk.

If you feel the need to include the phrase “I am not homophobic,” chances are, even if you don’t think so, you are coming across that way.

If your argument, and yes, this is pointed at a specific post, is that you view Legend of Korra was a fairy tale where the guy gets the girl at the end, then first of all, screw your heteronormative bullshit, and second of all, see the comment about “I am not homophobic,” because you really, really are coming across that way.

And finally, if your entire argument is you whining about how, just this once, the het pairing isn’t canon, then welcome to how we feel about 99.9% of the shows we watch.  Suck it up, but do so quietly, because if we have to listen to it, we might just punch you in the face.

P.S.  This bares repeating:  Korra is not a prize to be won, or a thing to be earned.  No woman is.