#ANYWHOODLE

[nottogetpoliticalbutwtfisoatmeal]

i had a dream that there was a new life series and it was hide-and-seek based

last and certainly not least: the winner

[myenterpriseisparked]

I'm generally not a hater. The list of media I actively hate (vs what I simply shrug at and go "its not for me") is fairly small. I don't usually talk about hating media online. I don't find it constructive or a meaningful use of my time.

That said, I will get this off my chest: I hate Star Trek Picard and the way it has made me feel bitter towards TNG. I hate the fact that it gets so much praise when the writing was so objectively shoddy, while Prodigy, which was well written and executed, got canceled because it was a "kids show." I hate how much nostalgia PIC threw to the masses to cover up poor writing. I hate the fact that it worked. I hate that people are petitioning for even more of the same style of show in Star Trek. I don't hate people that loved Picard, it's okay if it *was* your jam, but I am personally very bitter about the show and how it changed the face of Star Trek as a whole.

[lavena]

I imagine the world of Fawcett behaves like Narnia, when needed, or simply when they please, everything can come to life.

Rivers will gain forms a help the citizens.

The trees will uproot to fight a big enough threat.

The petals of flowers will flow and flutter around people, touching the world and giving those who favor nature special views.

Wind behaves oddly but will always catch children's kites or paper airplanes.

Everything in Fawcett is magic, all of Fawcett loves it's people and most of all, everything and everyone, love their Champion.

Imagine Batman going to Fawcett and seeing a pair of High School kids walking home, only to have the wind shift, and petals to flow around them like a scene from an anime. They laugh it off and continue on their way, but it happens often for selected pairs.

Elementary school children run around, one throws a shoddy paper plane against the wind at another, the wind changes direction once more a helps it along to the other.

He sees a group of Middle schoolers writing on a pieces of paper, fold it into admittedly strange paper airplane shapes, each one unique, and all throw it at the same time, each airplane takes off its own way flying off with no regard to the wind to be delivered elsewhere.

Water come to life to gesture a street dog towards clean water.

A tree moves its limbs to catch a balloon that flew from a young child's hands and slowly gives it back to them.

He sees the Captain, helping an elderly woman with her groceries, she doesn't seem to need help however as she is riding a Griffen, but no one bats an eye.

[bembembembis]

This scene is kicking my ass so heres a snippet;

Barty was gone— fucking hammered. Two sheets to the wind, and the joint he was lighting on his balcony wasn’t helping. He struggled against the wind, his fingers shaky. Eventually it lit, and the strength of the high had him slumped in a chair, sucking the joint, greedy for more.  He and Evan were at a club— some underground thing in Knockturn Alley, filled with werewolves and vampires, and a surprisingly handsome looking Goblin alone at the bar. Music was loud there— and everyone was dancing, and fuck if the bartender knew how to pour a drink, Barty was fucked within the first hour they were there, and Evan kept nosing at his neck as he hummed,” Do you want another, B?”  And then they were dancing, if you could really call it that. The music deep and slow, the crowd more drunkenly kissing each other, or getting off in a slow grind. Evan had a thigh between Barty’s, and Barty had his hands firm on Evan's ass as they danced.  It was blinding, being that close, their dark marks glamoured, as Barty got to take in Evan in that vest, with low rise jeans, his pale skin on full display, the bruises Barty had pressed into his neck— his chest, were on clear display for anyone in there, and Barty was a few seconds away of begging Evan to go at it with him right there, in the crowded club.  Evan pulled away, barely inches as he said,” Do you wanna go home.” He breathed it into Barty’s ear, something wet and hot that had Barty squeezing his ass with nothing more than a pathetic,”Please,” leaving his mouth.  They had taken another shot before they left— which Barty realised only when it was put into his hand that Evan had ordered doubles, and nearly fell on his ass at the burn of the tequila. Evan and him left quickly after that—and Barty you see was expecting something, if not fucking Evan, then getting off in the shower, or at least Evan letting him blow him, though as if the universe was out to get him, Evan had pulled away from Barty in the front hallway of his apartment, and with a greenish tint to his cheeks muttered,” Oh fuck,” And ran off to the bathroom, Barty heard him throwing up a few seconds later.  He took that as a hint, dizzy and beside himself, Barty took refuge on his balcony, trying to smoke away his hardon, and instead finding himself incapable of moving, his joint the last thing grounding him, though he smoked like it was.  Evan found him, still sloshed and something a little shy when he came out onto the balcony, Barty now fully gone, could offer no more than a helpless wave.  Evan laughed, his cheeks pink, and straddled Barty in his chair, digging into Barty’s jeans till he found his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, throwing the pack uncaringly onto their table, and Barty managed enough to pull out his lighter, holding it as still as he could while Evan brought the tip of the cigarette to it.  Evan pulled away and took a long drag, Barty flicked away his joint and found his hands on Evan's ass. Barty wanted to pull him back to his bed, and wake Regulus and fuck the both of them till he was nothing more than what he left inside them.

[mytardisisparked]

I'm so glad The Stone Rose is a fairly easy-to-find-for-free audiobook because it's been my favorite bedtime story for the last 5 years. I pop that puppy on to fall asleep to on a yearly basis. Let the 10th Doctor himself tell me about a lil adventure he had with his girlfriend. Truly the Spinoff Book of All Time.

[iced-souls]

Judging by the past couple drawings I’ve made i think theres a slight chance that i am enjoying these—

SOOP MY MAN!!!! CRIME!!!!!

Song: Last Friday Night by Katy Perry

Palette from this post: ‘stigmata’

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

.

[newmsies]

today i sat and watched as someone was ostracized fron society for like forever and ever for supporting Israel

[baeshijima]

being married to duke!blade is a feat inconceivable to many.

overseeing the northern region where monster outbreaks are high and temperatures are low, he is feared by many for not only his undeniable battle prowess, but also his cold and dismissive demeanour. from all the stories and rumours passed down from those who battled alongside the duke, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say his mere presence alone is sufficient enough to take on an entire army.

but despite his infamous personality, the young duke had made rounds within high society when he first showed his face. he was handsome, having that rugged appearance expected of a blood-soaked warrior residing on the battlefied, yet beautiful with a haunting allure — those crimson-marigold eyes of his can simultaneously bewitch an unassuming victim and bring the most prideful of monarchs down to their knees.

and, as expected of someone with such descriptors, many of the nobility found themselves drawn to him in spite of the rumours which clung to his very being. noble ladies wished to be the first he ever danced with, while many families seeked to gain even a morsel of his power through arranged marriages. relentless as they were, none succeeded in swaying the stone-cold duke.

and stone-cold he was upon your first meeting, albeit in… less than fortunate circumstances.

having meandered around the foresty northern borders not too far from where your family estate is, you certainly were not expecting to stumble across a rotting corpse smack-dab in the middle of your path! okay, well, rotting may not be the most suitable term, but the slumped body, battered and bruised and bloodied, you accidentally kicked was very much a corpse.

you had contemplated leaving the body there but, upon seeing a bloodied insignia of an all-too familiar ducal household, you decided you wanted to live a little longer. of course, this led to you lugging a slumped, muscle-packed warrior of a man all the way to where your estate was, heaving and huffing with your body trembling under the weight.

(to say you were just about ready to collapse when the family knights spotted your emerging figure was no understatement!)

whisked away into a guest room near your own, your parents called for the family doctor immediately. when the blood was cleaned and his wounds were wrapped, the sight of his injuries mending themselves was sure to be a sight you would never be able to rid your mind of. it was a strange but intriguing phenomenon to see his skin stitched anew, that horrid sight of him collapsed in the forestry almost like that of a dream.

your father immediately sent word to the duke’s estate to notify them of the circumstances. in the meanwhile, the man of the hour was unconscious for three days. seeing as how you were the one to find him, you took it upon yourself to help look after his well-being. changing his bandages, regularly wiping the accumulating sweat with a freshly damp cloth, ensuring the room is well-ventilated — you did the lot!

(sometimes you would stare at his resting face, wondering just how much more handsome he would be with his eyes open; only to retract that sentiment when recalling the tales about how his eyes could burn a man alive. exaggerated or not, he is still a dangerous individual you would rather not further entangle yourself with.)

with his people having retrieved their master from your care, promises of hefty compensation for taking care of their lord ringing in your ears, you were ready to sweep the whole ordeal under the rug and never get yourself involved with a man like him again! after all, he is the fearful duke responsible for your region, while you’re just another noble within his domain.

so, naturally, when you first heard of your soon-to-be marriage, you thought your parents did something to offend him and were sending you as a sacrifice meant to appease his wrath.

because, well, why else would the very same duke infamous for having zero interest in romantic and political marriages be sending a letter for your hand in marriage of his own accord? being unconscious the entirety of the time made him unable to see you, let alone know your family, so of course that meant his staff had filled him in on what happened. but why would he initiate this proposal without even knowing who you are first???

(did you get a say in this? no. would you have refused? yes. did your parents care about you and your well-being? aside from their apologetic gazes at your slack-jawed reaction and somewhat rational reasoning of “his grace may have an infamous reputation, but he is not a cruel ruler nor man,” you would like to deny the parental affection they have given you thus far in favour of objecting the claim.)

well, no matter. there was little time to prepare for his arrival to your estate, as the letter stated he would be arriving to escort you himself.

after much fuss over your clothing and luggage, the day arrived; you were going to see him again, except this time, he would see you as well.

a regal carriage entered the estate’s gates. the door swung open. a black gloved hand was the first to appear, followed by a ducked head of long navy hair, a familiar figure donning a freshly pressed suit and black overcoat, and finally — finally — a pair of burning crimson-marigold met your own gaze.

you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline of your fight or flight response kicking in or the butterflies which ruptured within you that caused your heart rate to increase, but you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

he stopped in front of you, the features you once saw up close felt more complete than ever with the addition of his eyes open.

and thus, with your palm settled atop his outstretched gloved one, your fate was sealed.

(man. was this the compensation the staff were saying to you as they left…?)

that was two years ago.

savage. cold-blooded. inhumane. brute. monster. these were some of the ways in which duke blade was described. the man who currently sits on the edge of the bed watching you dress his wounds, however, is much different than the public opinion.

ever since exchanging vows at the altar and slipping sacred rings of matrimony onto each other’s fingers, you have come to know many sides of blade you never thought possible.

and while he rarely spoke in the beginning, his actions spoke louder than any voice could ever hope to measure up to. and, eventually, he became more vocal in regards to his feelings for you, just as you have with yours upon witnessing firsthand his true character.

from his battle-haggard, near manic state when on the verge of succumbing to the curse before falling into your healing embrace, to his tender fleeting touches and ever-adoring affection repressed within his gaze when in the presence of others, you have seen it all.

the process of getting to know and understand the intricacies of his life is almost like unravelling layers upon layers of thin bandage wrapped tightly around a gaping wound, hoping to block out the vulnerabilities which could be exposed. it was rocky at first, you being in an unfamiliar environment while he had his own inner battles to deal with first and foremost, but time carved its path for the two of you to partake in talks lasting late into the night, a subtle fondness growing more pronounced as familiarity grew alongside it.

and, of course, the time he returned from a subjugation battle-worn and mind having been overriden with mania. it was the first you’d seen him in such a loss of control. knights were rushing to subdue him while the servants desperately tried to usher your bewildered form some place safe, as though this had been a common occurrence well before you came into the picture. that hadn’t gone as planned, however, as the moment blade’s heaving figure locked eyes with you, a state of chaos ensued the moment he broke through the wall of knights with ease and appeared in front of you. no time was wasted when he lunged, a panic chorus of cries following suit as you remained rooted in place.

while you would never forget the blown-out, near-animalistic look in his eyes as he drew closer at an impossible speed, the gentle — almost reverent — manner in which he embraced you then, rigid body instantly relaxing against you, would forever be the turning point of your relationship, as well as a long-cherished memory of his first true feelings.

a dull sensation poking the space between your brows snaps you out of your thoughts. “stop frowning. i’ll be fine like always.”

your hands pause in their ministrations, hovering over his bare torso where you finished tying up a bandage. a blink and a sigh, another swab of disinfectant is in your hands working at the wound on his bicep.

“but that doesn’t mean i like seeing you return to me wounded,” you mutter bitterly, blatantly ignoring his stare. “i know you can take care of yourself, what with that regenerative ability of yours, but i still worry over you. you can still feel the pain, after all, and not to mention that curse—”

a swift tug forward abruptly cuts you off, your words fizzling on the tip of your tongue as a familiar warmth encases you in its entirety. instinctively, your hands grip onto his shoulders, the coarse material of bandages not unfamiliar to your touch, while blade’s hands are splayed across the expanse of your back as he holds you against his seated form.

his nose nudges along the slope of your neck, the shape of your jaw, the contours of your face, a trail of soft kisses leaving searing imprints in its wake.

a deep breath, a ticklish sensation, a thrumming heartbeat.

and when he rests his forehead against your own, crimson-marigold eyes dyed with devotion and seeping ardour, you think the world will be okay.

(even if it were to burst into flames and be reduced to ash, if it means you would be by this man’s side for a little longer, you think it will be okay.)

[allgirlsareprincesses]

LOL @knitted-flower-socks I love how that also works as a critique of the eugenic aspects of Force-sensitivity BUT THAT'S A WHOLE OTHER CONVERSATION...

Everybody bending over backwards to defend the Jedi, like they're not REAL y'all, it is OKAY to be critical of them as a way to consider the oppressive systems in our own reality. I promise Vernestra will not take your critiques personally. No one is harmed by AJAB jokes.

And you can still love the Jedi too! That's great, I adore the Jedi! But yeah Leslye framed them in this show and era as uuuuuuh FLAWED at best and very clearly analogous to real-world cops. Brilliant, IMO.

[fox-guardian]

today i am thinking about tim's freeze response.

in ep 104, in his statement about danny, he beats himself up over the fact that he couldn't bring himself to move when he saw "danny" up on the stage in the covent garden theatre

[ID: A transcript screenshot reading "I always tell myself there was some force there. Something that held me in place and meant that all I could do was watch. But sometimes when I think back, I remember how my legs shook, and maybe I could move. Maybe I’m just a coward." end ID] ~~~~

and then in ep 39 sasha had to Tackle Him to get him out of prentiss' way after his whole joe spooky bit because he just Didn't Move apparently

[ID: A transcript screenshot reading:

SASHA: Behind you! Run! TIM: Oh… PRENTISS: [Slowly intoning over worm sound] Do you hear their song? SASHA: TIM! [IMPACT, WORMS AND SCUFFLING]

end ID] ~~~~

worm sounds and a full sentence after going "oh" and sasha STILL needed to tackle him.

i don't really have anywhere i'm going with this i'm just thinking about it really hard

[penguinpartypalooza]

I've got some fallin' to do

[keeps-ache]

sittin' kitten :3

[illusivedelights]

When you and one of your faves are completely different aesthetics:

Bonus: the dynamic

[bembembembis]

how the fic planning process goes sometimes

i genuinely kill myself anyway-

[mytardisisparked]

Drew some stuff tonight I'm actually kinda proud of pls ignore the lack of consistent style and also don't zoom in on anything too closely haha