The whole "anti" culture in the Voltron fandom is gross TBQH, the way they fling the word p*dophile around without knowing or giving a crap about the actual definition or harm they're doing is disgusting. The death threats and attacks on people who ship things they don't like is just absolutely horrific. The whole thing honestly smells like they wanna feel superior so they invent issues and then lord around about how good they are and how everyone else is a dirty pervert -eyeroll-
You said it all anon, and the fact they misuse severe words this way just to give a reason for their hate on a ship is the most disgusting thing for me… They also attack REAL and HEALTHY couple for being in the same situation of age gape than the ship and I’m ??? are they for real….
for nick, reminder: it was shown that seishiro taught syaoran the particular kicking so...
Oh, dear and sweet anon! I couldn’t forget that awful fact even if I wanted to (and I do).
But there were a number of people reminding me about this, so I must have been pretty unclear about this in the moment. Either way, REST ASSURED. It’s not Seishirou that I’m questioning here, but Kamui.
LET’S REVIEW THE CASE FILE FOR KAMUI’S WILD WILD ASSUMPTION.
Mr dick vampire’s statement can be broken down into these steps.
(1) I saw your kicking style
(2) I recognized it as Seishirou’s
and (3) I concluded that he must have taught you it.
And while he is completely correct on point (3), the fact that he IS correct is COMPLETE chance if that’s the logic he’s going with.
Because point (1) and (2) hinge almost entirely on this one page.
In which Syaoran kicks him once.
Just one time, and it doesn’t even hit.
Not only that, but he kicks him SLOWLY. Because they’re UNDERWATER.
But this is apparently all he needs to come to the conclusion that Seishirou taught Syaoran how to do it.
Which implies that either [A] Seishirou ACTUALLY ALSO KICKS REALLY SLOWLY AND IN SLOW MOTION (which would be great, but probably wasn’t what CLAMP was going for), or that [B] perhaps his vampire senses allow him to recognise martial arts so specifically and categorically that any single kick would have been enough for him to recognise any possible move that might have been taught by Seishirou.
So, on seeing Syaoran flail around under water and kick him really slowly, Kamui had a moment of “Ah, yes. Of course. That’s Kick #116.86 Pt.8F.06.07., Sub Section 87GG802. Naturally. In the entire multiverse, and out of every possible alternate version of every possible character, that PRECISE kick can ONLY EVER be replicated by the One Seishirou I know. Any other explanation is IMPOSSIBLE.”
That’s the ONLY POSSIBLE EXPLANATION for how SYAORAN CAN KICK in this ONE WAY while drowning under water.
It was honestly getting out of hand. This is not what Tasha had in mind
when she had the airport evacuated. It was more to make sure Barnes doesn’t
accidentally hurt someone and maybe avoid people snapping pictures and tweeting
about Avengers arguing with each other. And what the fuck was Clint doing here?
Admittedly, she could have left a more detailed explanation with Vision as to
why Wanda was confined to the compound though she thought that Wanda was
intelligent enough to draw her own conclusions. Apparently she wasn’t.
“Is this part of the plan?” Nat asked after Tasha helped her up.
“No, this definitely was not part of the plan. Damn Rogers and his ‘punch-the-way-out’
mindset. Want to switch it up?”
“Sure.” It was with practiced ease that Iron Woman had Black Widow in tight
but safe grip, flying short way across the landing strip in order to land in
the path of Cap’s team.
“Captain Rogers… I know you believe what
you’re doing is right. But for the collective good…you must surrender now.”
It pained her how incredibly like J.A.R.V.I.S. Vision sounded sometimes. But
the good captain apparently was not listening if the advancing was anything to
go by. Well fuck.
“They are not stopping.” She could have
gone without kid’s comment. In a matter of seconds they were beating each other
again. It was insane. And she had run out of patience. “Vision, take out the
quinjet. It seems they won’t stop until they reach it.” Tasha instructed,
dodging the shield Rogers threw at her.
The android disengaged his fight with the
newcomer with the suit that could apparently enlarge as well as shrink; and
turned his attention to the open hangar where the powered down quinjet was
waiting. Iron Woman’s instruction was sound. Taking out a way to escape reduced
the probability of prolonged fighting. Checking yet again if there was someone
around the hangar, short beam of yellow energy burst from the gem on his
forehead and the quinjet was reduced to a smoking pile of scrap. It was a shame
really, for Tasha Stark took great pride in designing and building it. The
resulting explosion served as a short moment of pause as the realization of no
escape settled on Captain America’s team.
“I will say it one last time!” There was
no restraint in anger that boomed from Iron Woman. “Stand the fuck down!”
Spider-man used the distraction to shoot
copious amount of webbing at Hawkeye, Falcon and Scarlet Witch, effectively
pinning them to the ground. It was after all the reason why she brought him to
Germany in the first place. The close contact combat was not it. Black Panther
had Barnes pinned as well, Black Widow was eyeing the man in giant form with
all the suspicion of the world whilst War Machine was hovering near him as
well, ready to act at any sudden move. For the first time since this whole
shitty mess started, Captain America looked indecisive and unsure. It was more
than likely because his only effective way out was blown up. Looking at his now
subdued teammates, he let the shield he retrieved fall from his hand. “You’re
making a mistake Tasha.”
“Then it is mine to make. As it was your
mistake in deciding to not contact me before this fight went down or even to
listen to me back at the task force.” She turned to Black Widow. “Please inform
Everett Ross to send a transport for everyone.”
The giant man finally shrunk down to the
normal size, hands raised up in surrender. She would find out exactly what his
name was later. “Stay put Rogers.” Tasha ordered when he moved to follow her
approach to Barnes, reinforcing it with a raised gauntlet waiting to fire off
an energy blast. The helmet collapsed when she kneeled in front of Barnes. “Who
am I talking to right now?”
“Sergeant James Barnes, serial number
“It’s nice to meet you at last Barnes. I
believe I have something to help with your conditioning problem.”
“Steve didn’t mention that.”
Tasha snorted. “Yes, I am beginning to
learn how elective he is with words. We’ll discuss it later.”
Black Widow returned with small caravan
of SUV’s and prisoner transport trucks in tow, gear was taken away, handcuffs
were slapped on and everyone made their way back to Berlin. Tasha was already
having a headache just thinking about conversations that were to be had in
about two hours. Making sure Spider-man was safely on board her private jet
with Happy, Tasha slipped into the backseat of the black SUV; content to find
out that there was no one else in it. She just needed a quiet minute or two.
“You know you are not obligated to talk
to them any further. That is actually my job at this point.”
Why did she stop drinking? Because she
could fucking use one right now. “I like you much better than the other Ross.
So if you could just let me deal with this shit please? I promise you can hash
out all the details on them later because frankly I am just about done.”
The shorter man eyed her, finally
shrugging his shoulder and pointed to the heavily guarded conference room where
the rogue Avengers as media was already calling them were being kept. He made
it crystal clear that they should be in cells already but he was not going to
go against the higher ups. And seeing the plain exhaustion of her face, he
decided that the woman should have some sort of satisfaction out this entire
clusterfuck. “You look ready to keel over.” Nat commented bluntly, matching her
steps with Tasha’s.
“Let’s just get this over with, okay? I
really don’t want to talk about anything else.” Two women already found Rhodey,
Vision and T’Challa sitting at the same table, facing the other team with
expressions varying from unconcealed anger to pensive curiosity. “Are the
handcuffs really necessary?”
“I’m not here for chit chat, Rogers.”
Rhodey snorted loudly and Tasha rolled
her eyes. “You have unbelievably single track mind, it’s amazing. You people
collectively broke more international laws than most terrorists do and you keep
yapping about your best friend. He’s fine; I negotiated with Ross to have him transferred
to one of my facilities under heavy guard just in case the other Ross had any
bright ideas. We-” she motioned to her team. “Are here to talk about the
supposed Winter Soldiers.”
“Oh, so now you care?” Clint shot out,
not even attempting to hide his discontent.
“Mr. Barton.” T’Challa cut in before Tasha
could speak again. “The entire defense of your team sits on this supposed
threat. Make no mistake; your position is very precarious.”
“Barnes already gave us some intel, we
just want to corroborate that he told you the same thing.”
“And then what?”
Vision leaned forward in his seat. “And
then captain Rogers, we are going to go and investigate the validity of those
claims. I believe they will be taken into account when joint counter terrorism
centre brings up the charges. I believe Mr. Ross has far more detailed
explanation of how things will proceed from here.”
“And the Russians are just going to let
you waltz in their backyard?” Sam sounded guarded and doubtful.
“Considering they have to deal with
public backlash of Barnes being used as KGB’s assassin and likelihood that they
have been storing several more on ice all this time after everything that
happened, yes, they will let us just waltz into their backyard.” Rhodey ground
“Look, we will check this either way
Rogers. You cooperating might do you some good. Time to start using that head
of yours for something other than punching and thinking about your war buddy.”
“You mean compromise?”
Tasha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not
this again Rogers. I am not talking about this with someone who has not even
read the Accords. None of you did, I bet.”
“You owe it -” “Enough Captain.” T’Challa
was on his feet now. This was not how they discussed making their marriage
public knowledge but he could not stand to watch any longer to his wife’s
former team mate look at her like she was ultimate disappointment in his life. “My
wife does not owe you or anyone here anything beyond the common curtsey of
One could hear a needle fall in the room
that is how silent it was. Steve noticed that aside from Rhodes, everyone was
sporting various degrees of surprise on their faces. And Tasha looked uncharacteristically
pleased with it. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“I assure you Mr. Barton; I would never
joke on the matter of our marriage. You have never inquired if Tasha was seeing
anyone, you just made assumptions. Besides, we preferred our privacy.”
“So it was another secret.” At best, he
sounded like it was something he believed to be completely in character with
her and was therefore disappointed that she did not learn from past
Tasha’s eyes narrowed. “Rogers…my marriage
is of absolutely no importance to the events that have transpired in last few
days. So fuck you for trying to use it as some sort of springboard for your
moral crusade. I’m done.” T’Challa wasted no time in following after her.
“Tasha slow down.” It was not that he
could not catch up with her but it was the way she was gripping her left arm
while she was marching away that had him concerned. “I am sorry for blurting it
out like that but I could not watch him step on you any longer.”
“It’s fine, really.” Her breathing
“What injuries did you sustain in the
fight?” His eyes tried to asses her condition but aside from the black eye, she
had no visible injuries.
“None. But uh, my left arm is kind of
numb. Is that normal?”
No, it was not normal at all and the panic
he experienced seconds before the bomb went off returned with full force. “You
need to see a doctor straight away.”
“What? No, I’m good.”
“Please, intanda, do not argue with me.
Not now.” Her acquiescence after his plea was short lived because not ten steps
later; she collapsed and would have kissed the floor face first were it not for
his fast reflexes. With relative ease, he scooped her up and called for help. He
lost his father; he would not lose her too.
@queenyavengers So you wanted a secretly married IronPanther, yes? Here’s a short thing plus angst.
ALSO ALSO about shinee’s #Physiques 1)jonghyun is not that short/ short at all. He looks average height
2) Taemin isn’t that thin, he has your typical dancers body (but not typical cause it’s still taemin and anything he has is special)
3)kibums legs!!!!!! He could stomp a bitch™ out (aka my ass)
4) Minho is tall and has the long lean legs we see in photo shoots all the time yes it’s true
5) onews everything is so amazingly beautiful honestly what the fuck it truly was not fair
Oh Gosh, my first Sherlock one shot… I’m awful at this…it’s my first time, so it’s gonna suck.. 😫😩
I hope you enjoy anyway ❤
It was normal night in 221B, as normal as it could get with Sherlock laying on his couch, his fingers steepled under his chin as he thought. John went out an hour ago on another errand, leaving Sherlock and Y/n alone in the flat.
One thing was on Sherlock’s mind at the moment: Why.
Why was he feeling this way? Sherlock is a man who would use his mind for everything, never once listened to the trivial thing called a heart. Besides, caring is a disadvantage. He doesn’t have the ability to care–to love for that matter. But here he was, wondering why he cared so much for her.
She was intriguing yes, interesting too. He knows so little about her, and for Sherlock Holmes, that’s saying something. He knows her likes, her dislikes, what ticks her off. He knows why she spends so little time with her family, but he couldn’t deduce her, he just can’t. It’s like every time he tried, there’s a wall, blocking him from view.
There was just something about Y/n L/n, something he just can’t put his finger on. But maybe, it wasn’t her, maybe it was him.
Maybe he wants her around, for the sake of just being there. That every time he’d try to deduce, his mind would block him from doing so, to try to get to know the girl like a normal man would, not by a glance. Maybe he–
No. Not the time Sherlock. Remember what Mycroft said.
Caring is a disadvantage.
Remember what you told yourself.
Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. Nothing to gain from caring for someone, he preferred to be alone, alone protects. When you’re alone, there’s no one to worry and fuss over, you have no one’s back to watch but your own.
Sherlock’s eyes open, staring up at the ceiling, taking a breath as the girl herself walks into the room from the kitchen, two cups of tea in her hand. She came back from work a while ago and had already changed into one of John’s old jumpers and a pair of comfortable sweat pants, her hair tossed up in mess of a bun. “Oh, Welcome back Holmes.” she muses, putting one of the cups down on the table close to him, “Thought you were gonna stay in there forever.” Y/n smiles at him, and Sherlock didn’t know why, but he smiled back. Sitting up, running a hand through his curly mop of dark hair, he takes the cup off the table, taking a sip of the liquid. “You brought new tea in.” He states, Y/n looks up from her book that was propped on her knees, eyebrows raised, “Oh, yeah. I noticed you ran out.”
Sherlock takes another sip of the soothing Earl Grey, not his usual choice of tea, but this’ll have to do. “Sherlock.” “Hmm?” The detective hums, pulling his eyes away from the window to look at Y/n, her brown eyes boring into his. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?”
Sherlock sits up straight at the question, opting to lie to her, but that’ll be useless, he could lie with a straight face,no problem, but she always knows. “Three days ago. Why?” “Three days……” Y/n trails off, closing her eyes in frustration, sighing she looks back at him, “You know, eventually your body is going to shut down on you because you’re not taking care of yourself.” He does that a lot, he doesn’t eat much, neither does he sleep much because he usually on a case and too busy thinking to focus on those normal important human things. “I take care of myself.” Sherlock scoffs, watching her get up from the armchair, walking to him to pull him up by his hand. “ C'mon We’re going out.”
Sherlock reluctantly follows the girl out the flat, the two head up to Northumberland street to
Tierra Brindisa because Y/n was hell bent on Angelo’s best pasta.Upon getting there, the two walk to a table by the window, getting a clear view of the street and the people passing by. Y/n sighs sitting down as Sherlock does the same, resting his chin on his hand, staring out the window. Y/n starts eating when the food came, and to her surprise Sherlock did too. “You’ve gotta take care of yourself Sherlock, you’re gonna get sick.” “Not like I haven’t done this before you know, I’m fine.” Sherlock counters, and Y/n fixes him with a look that makes him continue eating his food silently. The two had a light conversation, as light as it could get with Sherlock Holmes, Y/n is quite used to the man’s sarcastic nature by now, so it doesn’t bother her when he blatantly point out that she looked half dead with her lack of sleep. Between the times she works and bouncing around at any ungodly hour with Sherlock and John, she was way past insomniac.
She stares at Sherlock, watching the way he rolls his blue green eyes at something she said the morning earlier. Reminding her of the time they got drunk and tried to solve a case. It was utterly embarrassing, and by far the most ridiculous thing she’s ever done with the boys. She was stone drunk, so was Sherlock and John, and she never got over the fact that John had spiked the drinks, and that they were drinking from measuring cylinders and no one said a word. Only to end up in custody, and a very long lecture from her uncle Lestrade, on the safety of drinking, blah blah blah.
Y/n laughs, covering her mouth with her hand, Sherlock looking at her confused as he sip from his water. “What?” he asks, smirking slightly. “Oh, nothing. Just that you were practically kissing the floor rug.” The detective catches on, his smirk fading into a half glare. “That experience was utterly embarrassing, I made a fool out of myself.” “You? I started crying because found one side of that lady’s shoe at the club.” Sherlock and Y/n share a laugh at the memory of her crying over the lost shoe of a woman she didn’t even know. Sherlock suddenly becomes serious, studying her, her smile, the way she’d laugh and sometimes snort somewhere in between. The way her eyes would always light up when he speaks to her, there was never a dull moment with her. She was always there, always caring, putting up with his shit. No matter what it is, though it did take her awhile to get over that time he faked his death. She welcomed him back with opened arms, it took a while, but eventually everything went back to normal. He being his arrogant and obnoxious self and she sassing him every time she’d get. And Sherlock had to admit, he cares for this girl–too much– he would go far enough and say he… loved her. Y/n sat and waited for him to stop thinking, smiling at him. He blinks a few times, “Why do I care for you so much?” he asks, tilting his head, looking much like a confused puppy. “Because that’s what friends do Sherlock, they care for each other. You are human you know, you have feelings.” she says, smiling still, taking his hand that was resting on the table, giving a gentle squeeze. While Sherlock tried to figure out a way to tell her, to even begin to tell her. Everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve done, all the time she’s been there. Yes, He loved her, very much too. Sherlock has the ability to care,to love.
“Y/n… I-” he stops himself, furrowing his dark eyebrow as the words in his head just seem to jumble up. “Don’t worry Sherlock. I know. I love you too.”
No pain, no loss, no tears The time is almost here Our dreams will all come true I promise you ‘Cause I can see for miles And miles
In time we’ll be dancing in the streets all night All night, all night In time, yes, everything will be all right All right, all right It’ll take time But we’re going far You and me Yes I know we are In time we’ll be dancing in the streets all night