typed label

Blind Soldier76
  • Reinhardt forgets that Jack is blind, and is like “Hi Jack, could you read this for me?” and Jack takes it and stares at it for like a good minute and then is like “You know this would be an excellent read if I wasn’t blind”
  • Hana’s like “Hey Jack could you drive us to town real quick” and hes like “Hm no I can only drive you off a road and probably to your certain death I can’t see.”
  • Gabriel is self conscious about how he looks under the mask, and Jack just stares at him and is like “Gabe, to me you’re literally just a blur, but I can tell you - you’re the most beautiful blur in this entire room.”
  • Gabriel up late after shopping trips as he types out braille labels for everything so Jack knows what’s what.
Renault’s Books

I made a proper post out of this because it got too long for the ask (I needed to be able to save what I wrote). And I actually re-read both Fire From Heaven and the Persian Boy in order to be able to answer this well. @uponthewaters I hope that this format is more easily accessible/readable and I also hope that I have answered your question in the way that you wanted. 

I will preface this by saying that I always feel a bit bad critiquing Renault. Please remember that I have nothing against Renault. I respect her and I am flattered that she loved my life so much. If what I am about to say sounds cruel or harsh, then just remember that I am only speaking about the content of Renault’s books, not anything about her personally. But I won’t lie and say that I like her books when I do not. Brace yourselves, I wrote a lot (and added a drinking game to spice things up!).

I will start with Fire From HeavenPut simply: In Fire from Heaven I am boring.

Fire From Heaven

Aside from the aforementioned boringness, most of the major issues I had with Fire From Heaven have to do with the portrayal of Hephaistion:

“At the stair-foot Hephaistion was waiting. He happened to be there, as he happened to have a ball handy if Alexander wanted a game, or water if he was thirsty; not by calculation, but in a constant awareness by which no smallest trifle was missed.” (163)

^ Let it be known that Alexander the Great always cites his goddamn sources. Alright, Hephaistion was not only there for me; I was also there for him. He had his own life and his own thoughts and troubles. We comforted each other, he was not just a shoulder for me to cry on. Our friendship was not one-sided. He was not my slave and did not act like my mother or my nurse. In this book it is unclear why I loved Hephaistion, our relationship was merely predicated on the fact that Hephaistion was enamored with me and I appreciated his loyalty and servitude. 

“Hephaistion thought of the coming war without fear, erasing from his mind, or smothering in its depths, even the fear that Alexander would be killed. Only so was life possible at his side. Hephaistion would avoid dying if he could, because he was needed.” (221)

Um only because I needed him? Not because Hephaistion didn’t want to fucking die himself? Come on. Hephaistion had his own thoughts and fears that didn’t always have to do with me. Even I’m not too self-absorbed to recognize that. 

“Hephaistion called to mind the tale of Semele, beloved of Zeus… she had burned to ashes. He [Hephaistion] would need to prepare himself for the touch of fire.” (157)

God, this made me laugh. Well, if Hephaistion wants this ass then he better get some oven mitts. And that lube that heats up is definitely a no-go. I just don’t even know what to think of this. I mean I know I have a hot ass but really… On a more serious note, Hephaistion was the only one who didn’t think of me as divine but still loved me and my imperfections. So no to this quote.

“Hephaistion, who was not very quick at shaping his thoughts into words, usually found that someone else got in before him. He preferred this to making a fool of himself.” (173)

OH FUCK NO. Hephaistion loved to argue and was certainly not shy about voicing his opinions. And Hephaistion was brilliant, Aristotle thought so, too, and corresponded with Hephaistion later on. Hephaistion’s intelligence is the reason why I trusted him with both solo military commands and also administrative/ diplomatic functions. And just common sense: I would never have an idiot who couldn’t even debate as my second-in-command. Hephaistion only made a fool out of himself if he was drunk or if he was fighting with someone over something stupid (and the same goes for me).

Think of Achilles, how his mother dipped him in the Styx. Think how black and terrible, like dying, like being turned to stone. But then he was invulnerable.” (211) 

This really took me out of the story. If Hephaistion had said that to me then I would have laughed at him and told him that Achilles isn’t invulnerable in the Iliad. Achilles bleeds right before he fights the river Skamandros when Asteropaios hits Achilles with a spear, “but the other [spear] grazed Achilles’ strong right arm and dark blood gushed as the spear shot past his [Achilles’] back…” (Iliad 21.166-167 for you modern readers). The Renault version of Hephaistion certainly is dull and unintelligent if he can’t even remember the Iliad. And the Styx story with Thetis and Achilles was not around in our day, either. It was actually first written down hundreds of years after our deaths (95ish CE) by Statius in his Achilleid. So this entire piece of dialogue is anachronistic. I’m the biggest Achilles fanboy of all time, I know my shit.

Some other thoughts:

  • I DO like the part where Kassander gets beaten up by a woman. That was hilarious.
  • Ptolemy was not my half-brother. And I don’t like how the book treats the character of my real sister Kleopatra (who I loved very much in real life). Or my mother. It seems that modern representations of my life are not very kind to the women in my life. Not cool.
  • Dear god, that part with the courtesan. That story was completely false and only made up to slander me, but at least in the ancient story I sent her away. I would never suffer the indignity of my parents hiring a hetaira for me and then actually have sex with her. That’s adding insult to injury! And I had sex with both men and women, my parents weren’t worried about me (although of course I was not as uh “prolific” as good ol’ dad).
  • OLYMPIAS WAS NOT PRESENT AT PHILIP’S ASSASSINATION. She was in Epiros. If you are going to write a book based largely on historical events then please get the details correct.
  • Speaking of details, when my father was assassinated my father’s cloak was white, not purple (see Diodorus 16.93.1). A small nitpick, but still. 
  • That 2004 movie Alexander ripped off a lot of material from this book. I feel bad for Renault about that. Not cool, Oliver Stone.

Renault also gets the timing of the death of Hephaistion and my own death wrong in her historical author’s note:

“Alexander survived his friend by about three months, for two of which he was travelling with the body from Ecbatana to Babylon…” (409-410)

This is incorrect. Hephaistion died in October. I died in June. If you are writing a historical note please get the facts right.

One of my main issues is that Renault tries to describe the historical context/detail so much that she loses sight of the essence of the story. I didn’t really understand what she was trying to say in this book, it just read like a more boring and expanded version of Plutarch. So yes, Fire From Heaven was boring (as was my character in Fire From Heaven). And I’m someone who actually likes the catalogue of ships in the Iliad.

The Persian Boy

Where to start with this one… This is probably the complete wrong reaction to have, but I laughed my way through most of The Persian Boy. At least the prose was more interesting than Fire From Heaven. But the pacing was off, it takes Bagoas more than 100 pages to meet me.

One of the central problems was with the narrator. Bagoas is forcefully inserted into the larger events of my life and it simply makes no sense for him to be there. Some problems I had:

  • Bagoas was supposedly with me the night after the torture of Philotas? Oh god, that is so ludicrous. Common sense: after an assassination attempt a eunuch would never be left alone with me. Hephaistion probably would have murdered him; Hephaistion wasn’t feeling particularly happy then. And we were in a camp with tents, not a building as Renault states (see Arrian, Plutarch, and Curtius for confirmation of that). It’s a small detail, but I wanted to point that out.
  • I did not trust Bagoas. It may seem cruel, but Bagoas was nothing to me. If Bagoas had died then I would not have to be dragged off of his corpse. He was simply someone that I had sex with a few times. Hephaistion was everything to me. He was the sole person that I completely trusted. I also trusted my own generals and friends. I did not trust a random eunuch. And Renault says I cried over Bagoas’ birthday? Birthdays weren’t even really celebrated in my day…
  • AND RENAULT TELLS THE DYSENTERY STORY. WHY THE EVERLOVING FUCK DOES EVERYONE LOVE THAT STORY?! Oh yes, it is so funny that Alexander shit himself, that story is absolutely essential to understanding his life. No, no it fucking isn’t. It’s embarrassing. 
  • And dear god, Bagoas was not with me at the Mallian siege. That makes absolutely no sense at all. Even the majority of the army was not there, most of the land forces were stationed with Hephaistion down river (see Arrian 6.13).
  • I liked that Renault showed Hephaistion’s kindness. That was much appreciated. I wish he was in more of the book, but he would most likely be mischaracterized (although at least I could blame the unreliable narrator in this case). 
  • What the hell was the wedding with Roxanne about? She tried to poison Bagoas and then I beat her? WHAT THE FUCK? I can’t believe that Renault would actually write that. I don’t know why she hates all of the women in my life so much. I don’t know why she would think my wife would poison a random eunuch. I don’t know how she could think I would beat my own wife. I mean we were obviously not the pinnacle of feminism, but we weren’t animals. I was angry when noble women were just forced to dance (see Curtius 6.2.6-7 for this one), I don’t know how anyone would think I would harm my own wife. Everything about this is disgusting. I’m fucking appalled.

I found the book mostly amusing and I didn’t get very annoyed (except of course for the wedding/poison episode) until Hephaistion’s death.

He [Alexander] was standing with a dagger in his hand, hacking off his hair. […] So I found the trimming knife, and said, “Let me do it. I’ll do it just as you want.” “No,” he [Alexander] said, hacking away […] But he grew impatient with the back, and let me finish it, so that he could be off. (370)

I would have killed anyone who tried to cut my hair for me when I cut my hair over Hephaistion’s body. And unlike in Renault’s account, I actually cut my hair over the corpse (Arrian 7.14.4 backs me up). I would have stabbed Bagoas or anyone else who tried to help with my own dagger (I was not in a great mental place then). And as if I couldn’t cut my own hair? I’m a warrior, I know how to use a goddamn blade. This also makes it sounds like cutting my hair was something that I thought I had to do so that I “could be off.” No, it was very significant and personal and painful for me in my grief and doesn’t deserve to be treated as something I had to get done quickly. Also, Bagoas was not the one who had the idea that Hephaistion be made a god (Renault 373). Reading that was a test of my very poor anger management skills. 

And on my deathbed I did not say Krateros or kratistos or anything like that. Ugh. I couldn’t even speak at all, I was too sick. And Bagoas was not there when I died.

I made a drinking game to make reading this book more fun:

  • Take a shot whenever Cyrus (aka Kyros) is mentioned! 
  • Take a shot when you can’t tell if Bagoas and I are having sex or not! 
  • Take a shot every time my ~golden~ hair is mentioned! 
  • Take a shot whenever Bagoas is jealous!
  • Chug through the entirety of the dysentery scene (so that no one will remember it happened…)

This game may give you alcohol poisoning if you’re not a Macedonian, be warned.

All in all, I really do appreciate what Renault was trying to do. I am so happy that people read these books and got more interested in my life and in Hephaistion’s life. I am also happy that these books helped people dealing with issues relating to their own sexuality (and I appreciate the fact that Renault was a lesbian writing about same-sex relationships AND that she described me as bisexual in her author’s note- good job Renault!). So I think that the good that Renault’s work has done outweighs my issues with it. 

I hope that this very lengthy response answered your question well.

Not The Romantic Type

Prompt: After being labeled as a ‘non-romantic’ by the reader, Digger Harkness tries to prove the reader wrong by planning a cliche Valentines Day date.

Pairing: Captain Boomerang X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, sexual suggestion, but mostly fluff galore!

Originally posted by heartofdevastation

Digger Harkness was certainly a man of many talents and you were lucky to be able to call him yours. In one afternoon he could build you a wooden table and four sturdy chairs. He could drink an entire 12 pack of beer and still speak impressively coherently. He made the best damn grilled cheese in the world and never failed to make you laugh until tears were streaming down your face.

He was everything you could ask for and more! The only quality you could say he lacked was a romantic side… Which wasn’t a bad thing? He was sweet when he wanted to be and definitely an affectionate son of a bitch. But, as Valentines day was begin to creep up on you and all the heart shaped boxes of chocolates were on sale at the store you couldn’t help but to feel, well… Like you were missing out on something?

Keep reading

      “I’ve been told it’s strange I love to eat breakfast food at dinner and dinner foods for breakfast. So, what’s your opinion?” The dark haired male asked, lifting up his couple of orange juice and taking a sip. It was common though, right? To eat breakfast food at dinner? But did anyone else ever eat dinner food during breakfast?

There’s been a very serious confusion between “activists” and “marginalized people trying to tell others they can’t treat them a certain way.” This is a mistake caused by the white supremacist and terf type crowds that label people with morals and standards and even expectations of basic decent treatment as “SJWs.” So if you hold marginalized people to the same standards and expectations as you do activists, this is a product of their tactics and you need to be critical of why you think the way you do.

“My agency thinks of the actors first. They respect opinions, so I think that’s good. I also think it’s very good that we do things together. It’s the type of label that allows you to do whatever you want. I wasn’t able to go often this year, but in my memory, it has always been good.” - Nam Joo Hyuk


I made these beer labels for my brother for Christmas! Earlier in the year, we’d been fantasizing about him starting a literature themed brewery called Whale of a Tale Brewing Co. where all the beers would be named classic literary/beer puns. I liked these three that we came up with the best so I decided to illustrate their future labels. Hopefully someday they will all really exist and I’ll get to drink them!:) 

Large clapboard house with gingerbread trim, viewed diagonally across board sidewalk and fences (decorative and utilitarian). Three boys lean on board fence. Leafless trees by sidewalk, more houses beyond. Handwritten on photograph front, under boys: “George Root, Wm. Clark, Frank Clark.” Typed on label on photograph back: “This house was erected about 1857 or 1858, for Dr. Augur Clark. The three boys in the foreground are William and Frank Clark, and George Root. The two Clark boys are the sons of the doctor. Mr. James F. Joy lived in the house at one time, and James Joy was born there. It was torn down many years ago, and a row of brick buildings erected in its place. The picture was given me by Mr. William A. Butler Jr. The house is on the north side of Fort Street between Cass and First Streets.” Handwritten on photograph back: “D/Sts_Fort, between Cass & First. C.M.B. (?) Dec. 5, 1908.”

  • Courtesy of the Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library
PSA: Decidueye and Alolan Marowak Aren't Dead

Ever look at an Electric type and go “I bet this creature is made out of electricity”? Why not? It’s because types aren’t literal labels of what a Pokemon is, it just describes an element that they exemplify. It’s more about the vibe they give off.

After all, not all Dragon types would pass the test when it comes to determining if they’re “true” dragons. Most of them are just badass reptiles and that’s it. Same goes for Fairy types. I mean, is Dedenne REALLY a fairy, or is it just cute? 

This applies to the Ghost type as well. Being Ghost type does not make the Pokemon itself a spirit, or undead. Merely being associated with themes of death, shadows, and other spooky things is enough. And lately two new Pokemon in Sun and Moon are being talked about as if they’ve been killed and now they haunt Alola. 

Alolan Marowak was the first. People liked to joke and say “it adapted by dying”, but therein lies the reason it’s clearly a physical, living being: it became a Ghost/Fire type purely for the purpose of survival. Its flavortext says that Grass types are Marowak’s natural predators and that it changed types as a defense mechanism. The Fire typing is obvious, but it’s a Ghost type because death is a MAJOR theme in the Cubone line; they straight up WEAR SKULLS! Because of this, they’re likely very in-tune with the spiritual underworld and harness that power. Perhaps they form tribes and have rituals to honour their fallen ancestors? I’m sure Fire-dancing has tons and tons of spiritual significance in Polynesian culture. 

As for Decidueye, it’s even simpler… it just really, really, really likes shadows. Being a stealthy predator of the night, it relies on the element of surprise when hunting, just like real owls. 

Owls in many cultures and languages are described as “ghost birds” simply because of their connection to the night and how terrifying they are. The moon itself is a massive symbol of death, and it’s always up when owls are actively killing animals, like a silent grim reaper of the skies. Shadows, death, fear… it just SCREAMS Ghost type. Sure, people think it’s a literal ghost because there’s extinct Hawaiian owls , but it could be more of a nod than the sole factor at play here, if the designers were even thinking about that at all. 

So I guess the moral of this story is that not every Ghost type Pokemon is the victim of a creepypasta murder, or an unrelenting demonic soul seeking vengeance. Sometimes they’re just a little spoopy, y'know?

  • Look ____, I know… er… things between you and I have been a little start and stop and I’m sorry for that, but maybe once I can… 
  • I don’t think she’s pretending.
  • I am every parent’s worst nightmare. I’m the chaperone teacher from hell.
  • She loved you too much and it was killing her.
  • You know that your old teacher had a jackass file? No joke. It’s, uh, typed on a label. It has all the troublemakers in it. But really, it’s just an opus to you.
  • Well… I’m naked. So I’m gonna go.
  • Who knows? Maybe his alter-ego is a pot-smoking hippie pacifist.
  • Ok give me your glass. Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.
  • It’s, uh, more fun with a buzz. 
  • I mean, did you learn nothing from the moonstone in the soap dish?
  • Why not? I have nothing left to fight for. 
  • You look like a full-grown, alpha male douchebag. 
  • First person account of the Civil War? That`s like porn for a history teacher.
  • Well, mine was not making sure you were permanently dead.
  • Can I get you a drink? I hear the punch is real boss.
  • I don`t wanna spend my life searching for answers I really don`t want
  • It`s not like I`m a freak. I`m just being nice to someone new in town.
  • Yeah, ____’s one scary dude. But with nice hair. 
  • I’m your friend, dammit. And you don’t have any friends. So, no more lying.
  • I want to be honest with her, but until then ___ and I are over. 
  • You can be upset and hate me. I get it. Just know that I love you. At least I can tell you that much. 
  • First night you and I spent together, ___ walked in right when I was about …
  • I’m sorry, you’ve reached somebody who’s currently not operating.
  • Sleeping in you dead parents` room or my dead girlfriend`s room. No
  • I`m not a role model you know. I drink too much, I say the wrong things, I encourage bad behavior. 
  • I think you found a way to get out of bed this morning. And that makes you the strongest person I know.
  • This may come as a shock, but I am not here to hang out with you.
  • You don’t even approach the threshold of the crazy I’ve seen.
  • You changed my life, you know that? You completely turned it around. And for that, i will always love you even though I know you don’t love me the same way.
  • I love you, and I want to marry you and be your loving, honest, committed partner. And I want our little family to work. But I don’t want it if you’d rather be with someone else.
  • It’s a diaper, not a bomb. Though I could dismantle a bomb blindfolded if I needed to.
  • You actually think I’d watch this sober?
  • You know, I don’t know how I went so long without saying this, but you’re a real dick!
  • Cryptic question, accusatory tone, this doesn’t bode well for me.
  • Ehh, she did sleep with you.
  • Friendly advice, when you finally get the girl… don’t blow her up.
  • This is my bar, pal. No one’s gonna blow it up
  • You’re on speaker phone, dick. 
[NEWS] MAMAMOO’s Wheein Thrills Leeteuk By Revealing Her Fan Love For Super Junior

During MAMAMOO’s recent guest appearance on the TV Chosun show “Idol Festival,” host Leeteuk was over the moon when Wheein shared how much of a fan she was of Super Junior!

After Moonbyul said her ideal type was Leeteuk’s label mate Yunho, Leeteuk jokingly asked if there was anyone who would choose him. “I’ll assume there’s not,” he added with a laugh.

Wheein then jumped in to say, “This is the first time I’m talking about this on television, but I was crazy about Super Junior when I was in elementary school.”

“I made a folder for each of the members on my minihompy and collected their photos in them,” she went on to say, referring to her personal page on the formerly popular Korean social media site Cyworld. “I even know their real names too.”

Leeteuk was thrilled by this, and spun around in his chair with his arms out while grinning widely and saying his real name, Park Jung Soo. Wheein then revealed that she was even friends with Leeteuk’s father on Cyworld, as he had accepted friendship invitations from any fan who sent them.

Watch the clip below from the January 2 episode of “Idol Festival”! 

Source: Soompi

You're a Pilot, Aren't You?

(Because my child needs happiness. Also on my ao3 page, @livetoseeourglory)

“Bodhi! Come here a moment.”

The pilot looked up and over to where Cassian was calling him and made his way over. “What is it?”

“I need your advice,” Cassian sighed.

“My advice? On what?” Bodhi took a seat on the couch beside Cassian. They were in one of the Base’s small sitting rooms, a quiet, out of the way place. It was a nice place to be if you wanted to get away from the noise of everywhere else.

Cassian pulled up something on a datapad and showed it to him. It was a selection of ships the rebellion used, labeled by type and color. “I’ve been instructed to choose a ship for one of our new pilots. I don’t know what to give them, though.” He looked over at Bodhi. “Which one do you think is best?” Bodhi held out a hand, and Cassian gave him the datapad so he could look at each model more closely. Bodhi examined each one with careful attention, wanting to help Cassian make the best decision. The ship’s descriptions also had their specs–speed, maneuverability, storage space, firepower–so it took him a bit to get through them all. There was one B-wing, three X-wings, an A-wing, and two Y-wings.

“Well, I know the X-wing is the most popular,” Bodhi eventually reasoned. “Personally, I love the A-wing. Better maneuvering than the X-wing, and it’s smaller. But again, the X-wing is the more popular, and there’s more choice there. Find out what color they like,” he shrugged.

“Thank you,” Cassian smiled. “That is sound advice.” Bodhi smiled back, pleased to be of help.


“Slow down, Cassian!”

“It is an emergency, Bodhi, you must hurry!” At that, Bodhi sped up. He hadn’t realized it was an emergency. They ran around the corner into the docking bay, where Cassian skidded to a halt.

“What? What is it?” He looked around wildly. He didn’t see anyone else rushing around. There were only a few ships in the bay.

“This way.” Cassian pulled him across the floor toward the middle. They were approaching a ship, the A-wing Bodhi had noted when Cassian had asked his advice. He frowned.

“Is there something wrong with the ship?”

“We want you to look it over, just make sure it’s up to scratch.”

“Oh. Of course.” Bodhi’s slight smile was artificial. He was envious of this shiny who would be getting this ship, but he was happy to look over it. Bodhi made his way inside to look over the controls. He checked the steering, the landing gear, the nav controls. They were similar to TIE fighter controls, and he was more familiar with them. He finished up and brushed off his hands. “It looks to be in perfect working order. Your new pilot will be very happy with it, I think.”

“I would certainly hope so.” Bodhi jumped at the unexpected voice, turning to see Mon Mothma standing behind him with a smile. He gave a salute. She nodded a relief, and he lowered his hand. “You like it, Bodhi?”

“I… think it’ll serve the new pilot excellently,” he told her, trying to keep the envy from his voice. “Why did you ask me specifically to look over it, Ma'am?”

“Cassian didn’t tell you?”

“I’m lost,” Bodhi frowned. He looked over to Cassian, who was now broadly grinning. Bodhi’s frown deepened, and he looked between the captain, the ship, and Mon Mothma, then back to the ship, then back at Cassian as understanding dawned. Cassian nodded, and the smile that grew on Bodhi’s face mirrored Cassian’s own. “Me?”

“Of course!” Cassian hugged him. “You didn’t think you’d be a pilot without a ship, did you?”

“Well, I- I figured I’d be a cargo pilot, again,” Bodhi confessed as he pulled away. “You really mean-”

“Yes,” Mon Mothma smiled. “This is your ship, Bodhi.” Bodhi beamed and bowed.

“Thank you, Ma'am.”

“Thank Cassian. He told us which ship to reserve for you.” She nodded and turned away. Bodhi turned back to Cassian and hugged him again, tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Cassian hugged him tightly back.

“You are welcome, my friend.”