#december trolls art prompts

[the-madara-squad]

MADARA WEEK 2023

BY POPULAR DEMAND MADARA WEEK EXTENDED UNTIL THE 31ST OF DECEMBER!

pick up freely the prompts that inspire you, pin us @uchiha-event and tag #madaraweek2023

After the Uchiha event in summer 2023, it's a great pleasure to announce the Madara Week 2023. The prompt fits the darkness of winter I hope you won't be afraid and will participate . It's a creative event open to everyone loving Madara, debutant or confirmed artists. So don't be shy!

RULES:

1/ Each day comes with a different theme. Pick up the ones who inspire you the most, -you can also combined them- 2/ You have three weeks to draw fanarts, write fics, one shots, podfics, headcanons, metas, random thoughts, poems, songs, gifs, memes ect ect… as long as you create it yourself for the event. 3/ the whole prompt can be general audience or NSFW. Up to your imagination ! Just be sure to precise it in your tag and your post. 4/ Madara week means : Madara must be the main character of your art. As back-up, others characters from Naruto can be included along with your self-insert, and your Original Character. 5/ share it using the hashtag #madaraweek2023. We'll make sure to reblog it between the 18th to 24th of december and to give everyone visibility. 6/ Have fun! The aim is to celebrate Madara Uchiha with joy and flamboyance.

If you need help to brainstorm your ideas, join our Madara Week channel in our Madara Squad discord HERE

Send us comments/asks/DMs or contact directly our mods @al-hekima-madara-blog and @margretescrimsonatelier for more informations !

NOT ALLOWED:

Disrespecting, smearing campaign, insulting the organisers. Any trolls would be automatically blocked from our event. their messages screenshots and archived. The mods knows enough geeks to find your IP, your identity and sue you if it goes too far.

No incest, no pedo** stuff… If your theme is NSFW make sure all your characters are old enough.

That's it for now, we count on you to reblog this post, share it with your friends, pin your favourite artists if you wish everyone to participate in Madara's party!

With Love, the mods.

[my-mom-named-me-duck]

intro <3

last edited: December 28th 2024

(if I ever disappear for more than 2 weeks I got sent back to the mental hospital lol)

hello I am duck never be afraid to message me I'm just as lonely as everyone else >:3

dont be afraid to make requests and give me constructive criticism I like art prompts and I'm trying to improve my shitty art lol

here are some of the things I'll be posting:

paintings

oc artwork

costumes and cosplay

random rants

fan art of stuff I like

art prompts and anything you guys tell me to draw or write (within reason)

shit posts

other blogs:

@my-dad-named-me-goose (shitpost stuff and reblogs)

@mysterious-other-being (hi corvid :3)

@totally-not-duck (idk who this is its totally not me at all-)

@batesmotelunofficial (I only made this to troll my boyfriend)

i have a few other blogs but those are secret ones <3

shitty YouTube channel:

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Prompt 12 of @deepperplexity 's Rickmas 2023

December 12: Giver of Gifts

Lionel Shabandar x Reader

Lionel likes so to shower his partner with expensive gifts, but some out of line gossip makes his partner self-conscious.

(Again, taking a chance with something new and an underrated character)

___________________________________________________________

Lionel Shabandar was a man with a reputation for being an ice-cold bastard. But you knew a different side to him. You’d met at the art gallery where you worked. He’d seen you leading a tour group and couldn’t help but listen in as you stopped in front of Monet’s “The Thames below Westminster”, curious at what you would say about it. The way you talked with gentle passion about the artists use of light and subdued colour was entrancing to him and he’d approached you after the tour, wanting to hear more. An invitation to drinks had lead to dating and you’d made your relationship public by being his partner at a gala a few weeks ago. Lionel was many things, and as cold and calculating he could be as a businessman, with you he was affectionate, romantic, someone who loved to share his interests and passions and was eager to learn yours. He was also a lavish giver of gifts. Which lead you to here, sitting on the couch in your apartment on a December evening, while he fastened the most exquisite diamond necklace you’d ever seen around your neck. “Leo, you know you don’t have to buy me things like this, right?” You said, feeling a bit overwhelmed and awkward, “I love them, really. But you’re always so extravagant. You don’t need to be.” “I know, Darling. I like doing it, though.” You silently ran your fingers along the pearl drop pendant, looking at nothing.   Lionel brushed his hand along your arm, “What’s wrong?” He asked, “Something’s troubling you.” “It’s nothing.” You shrugged off his concern, getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen “I was making some coffee, do you want some?”

Lionel followed you into the kitchen. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and he hated seeing you so subdued. As you filled the coffee machine, some colourful paper sticking up out of the paper bin caught his attention. It was a copy of the Sun, with a picture of the two of you, taken at a Gala you’d recently attended. Along with the picture was the headline, “Billionaires new arm candy” and a short text making allusions about your relationship around his money and your looks. You turned around, saw him holding the paper and froze. “I thought you hated this trash rag?” he said, dropping it back in the bin, “Is that article what’s upsetting you?” You didn’t answer, but Lionel could see the tears welling up in your eyes and you quickly rubbed your eyes to try and hide them, focusing back on taking some cups from the cupboard. Lionel stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, spoon hugging you against him. Your body automatically started to relax when you were pressed against him, he’d had that effect on you from the start. After a moment, you started talking quietly, “Someone at the gallery, fortunately not someone I work closely with, came up to me today and showed me that paper. They said I got a sweet deal, landing you as a Sugar Daddy. I just…It hurt and it made me mad to see people think our relationship is so shallow.” Lionel turned you in his arms to see your face, “I’m sorry, Darling. Really, those noxious trolls will make up what they want to see no matter what we do. But they’re just hollow words from useless gossip peddlers. They don't know anything." You took a breath, “I know. It also just made me feel self-conscious. I mean, you took me to lunch the other day and ended up taking me shopping at Bond Street. You don’t have to do things like that. I love you without all the trimmings.” Lionel smiled softly and held you a little closer, “You know, I think you’re the only person in my life who actually likes me for me. One of the things I love about you. You really don’t care about my money or name. You met a sour old man with an art obsession and decided to give him your heart. I can’t pretend to know why. That’s why I like spoiling you. Why I want to give you everything you deserve. You’re my Lioness, my queen, and you deserve to be treated like one.” Feeling tears prick your eyes again, you pressed your face against his chest, “You make it really hard to be critical when you say things like that.” Your voice was muffled by his shirt. “You live a very different life from the one I’m used to. But, honestly I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.” You felt him chuckle and his arms wrap around you more fully. You stayed like that for a while before he gently tilted your face up with his hand. He trailed kisses down from your forehead to your lips before leaning back and saying, “Hang the world and their opinions. Come on, Darling, let’s go out.” You smiled up at him, leaning up for one more kiss before heading to your bedroom to get dressed. Lionel grinned as he watched you hurry to the other room. He hadn’t thought falling in love like this was on the cards for him. But loving you was just so easy. You made him happy in a way he’d never known before, and he wanted to do anything he could for you. Anything you would let him do. And he kept a secret hope in the back of his mind, if all went well, he’d be your fiancé by next Christmas.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 9: Murphy & Miller, Worst Secret Santa Gift

For the prompt "“I’m going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible," requested by @fontainebleau22. Thank you!

Murphy & Miller, ~660 words, modern AU

I reblogged some winter/holiday prompts here, and I'm accepting requests if anyone is interested.

*

"I am going to make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible," Murphy announces, as he surveys the coffee table, and the mess of crafting supplies he has arrayed upon it.

Miller looks up. He's sitting sideways in the armchair, his legs over the arm. For over an hour now has been so engrossed in his book that he's barely paid any attention to the sounds of Murphy moving, gathering, arranging, dropping, and piling up his hoard of Christmas stuff. When he catches sight of the coffee table now, his eyebrows rise up.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a declaration of intent," Murphy answers. He's got that glint in his eyes that says he's scheming and proud of it.

Miller just shrugs. "That table looks like an elf threw up on it," he says, and turns back to his book.

"That's the idea." He picks up some scraps of yarn in one hand, and a small canister of round red and green beads in the other. "I want to create something that looks like it came from Christmas Town by way of hell."

"What did your secret Santa giftee ever do to you?" He flips a page. Then glances up one more time. "It's not me, is it?"

"Nathan. Have you forgotten what the word secret means?" He's starting to fold a piece of white paper now, as if to make a snowflake, creasing it hard enough to give himself paper cuts. "This isn't about the giftee, this is about Clarke."

"And her insistence that everyone make their Christmas gift this year?"

"Yeah. She has artistic talent. She is probably going to give her giftee some amazing piece of art that looks like it could hang in a museum and what am I supposed to do? Hmmm? What am I supposed to make?"

"Elf vomit from hell?"

"Exactly." Underneath all the glitter, beads, yarn, paper, felt, tape, and glue is a rectangular cardboard box, not much bigger than a shoe box. Miller can see, out of the corner of his eye, Murphy extract it from beneath the wreckage of every elementary school craft project ever, and eye it warily. His half-finished snowflake has fallen to the floor.

"So your gift's for Clarke?"

"I didn't say that."

"Right."

He returns to his book. From the couch, he can smell the scent of Elmer's glue and hear the rattling of beads, the soft sound of Murphy cursing, and the sharp cutting sound of scissors slicing through paper.

"So what's going in the box?"

"Nothing. The box is the gift."

Miller looks up, tilts his chin down and stares at Murphy as if over the top of invisible glasses. Murphy stops, one garish felt snowman in his hand and the bottle of glue in the other.

"What? It's a beautiful keepsake."

"Don't be a troll."

Not to Clarke.

Murphy just snorts, and for a while afterword, works in a suspiciously uninterrupted silence.

But when Clarke opens the box on Christmas Eve, at the annual friend group holiday exchange—the box that looks like the monstrous reject from an kindergarten art class, so doused in glitter that it's shedding sparkles all over Clarke's hands and festive knitted sweater—she smiles a genuine, sweet smile, and says, "Thank you, Murphy," in a voice softer than Miller's ever heard her use before.

And the next time he sees her, she's wearing the cracked watch case from her father’s wristwatch on a chain around her neck.

"How'd you even get your hands on it, anyway?" he asks Murphy later. "I haven't even seen it since it broke and she stopped wearing it."

Murphy just stares at him, stone-faced, the smallest tic at the corner of his mouth the only indication of a smile. But Miller knows it would be a self-satisfied grin if he would let it. "You're not the only thief around here, Nate," he says.

[mightyflamethrower]

Consider these European and American binaries.

On December 20, 2024, a terrorist, Taleb Al-Abdul Mohsen, rammed his SUV into a Christmas crowd in Magdeburg, Germany. He killed 6 pedestrians and injured 299 others.

Eleven days later, on New Year’s Eve in New Orleans, Louisiana, Shamsud-Din Bahar Jabbar smashed his pickup into a festive crowd. He murdered fifteen and hurt over 35.

Germany’s fertility rate is scarcely above 1.4—about average for a shrinking European Union. About 20 percent of the country is now foreign-born, a record high.

American fertility has precipitously dived to 1.6. The foreign-born now represent 15 percent of the American resident population, the highest in both actual numbers (50 million) and percentages in history.

The German military is a shell of its former self, with fewer than 200,000 soldiers and a shortage of almost all types of weapons.

The U.S. military, after being humiliated in Afghanistan, is currently down some 40,000-plus recruits. It faces shortages of anti-tank weapons, artillery shells, ships, and logistical support.

Germany may finally manage to spend 2% of its GDP on defense; the United States is heading downward below 3%—the lowest in over 80 years since the Great Depression.

Last year, the German economy shrank; this year, it will scarcely grow, in part because of shortages of affordable fossil fuels.

Germans pay four times what Americans on average do for electricity. Yet the Trump administration has promised an oil and natural gas renaissance, hoping to expand both production and exports with envisioned new pipelines and liquefied natural gas terminals.

In sum, the U.S. is beginning to mimic the pathologies of Europe—and yet in the next four years, renewal could help slow the decline of both.

Both face shrinking and aging populations. Both either cannot or will not control their borders, despite popular protests. Both suffer from woke political correctness and are pushing back.

The proverbial people of both nations want smaller government—and more freedom of expression and less woke. They insist on less and legal-only immigration and secure borders.

They vote for cheaper energy and fewer regulations.

Europeans and Americans alike want more meritocracy and fewer fixations on race and gender.

In the chaos of the postmodern 21st century, Europe and the U.S. nevertheless are still likely to share the same enemies and friends.

Both resent the asymmetrical Chinese approach to global commerce, based on a mercantilism that would never allow Europe and the United States to treat China as it does both.

The Europeans and the Americans are both worried about a vastly expanding conventional and nuclear Chinese military.

Neither wants Iran to develop nuclear-tipped missiles with ranges to hit the capitals of both. They do not want Vladimir Putin to recreate the former Soviet Union’s borders.

Europe, as a rule, loves Democrats as kindred quasi-socialists. But privately many Europeans assume their own security and prosperity do better when America is governed by conservatives.

In the past, Europe has not been a fan of Donald Trump, both as president and as a pre- and post-presidency candidate.

They fear that he is an isolationist, insufficiently diplomatic, not fully supportive of NATO, or too tariff-happy for their tastes—and are scared of his art-of-the-deal trolling to prompt wake-up calls.

But 2025 is certainly not 2017 or even 2020. And a “reset” in thinking on both sides is urgently now needed more than ever.

The Biden administration was no model partner for Europe. It quite outrageously forced cancellations of a joint Cypriot, Greek, and Israeli EastMed pipeline to bring much-needed natural gas to Europe.

It talked a great game about strengthening NATO. But the alliance’s bulwark, the U.S. military, saw its real budget cut, its Pentagon politicized, and recruitment short more than 40,000 enlistees.

The humiliating 2021 skedaddle from Afghanistan not only eroded American credibility but undermined all Western deterrence as well.

Biden opposed building new liquefied natural gas export terminals in the U.S. designed to help energy-starved Europe find a reliable and honest supplier and decouple from Russia.

Trump, in contrast, promises to “drill, drill, drill,” in part to ensure needed income by exporting huge amounts of LNG to fuel-starved Europe.

Europe was angry that a bantering Trump once bullied them to meet their promises to increase their defense spending.

But after the invasion of Ukraine, they are happy that some countries did just that.

Europeans likely want—and need—Trump to restore a more deterrent U.S. military, not a woke one.

Europe and America are both in crisis and need radical new thinking.

So, who knows—Europe may soon quietly rejoice that Biden is gone, Trump is back, and they have a strong, loyal, and rowdy friend rather than a simpering enabler.

[solidburnreturned]

december trolls prompts day 6: favorite au

HANDS DOWN @spaloonbabooguuscooties‘s pop evil au slaps. I love talking about different aus with nick he’s got the best ideas (: 

[ar0rtiz229]

Gay People❤💛💚💙💜

Day 10: Favorite Ship

Brynth and Parb!

December Trolls Art Prompt -@solidburnreturned

[solidburnreturned]

WAAA U CAPTURED HER PERFECTLY 🥺🥺🥺💞💖

some barbs based a few scenes in chapter 7 in @solidburnreturned‘s fic Ms. Brightside. for a little context, barb is on her way to pop village to ask poppy out on a date, and it’s eating her up in all kindsa’ ways. anyway the fic does a better job of describing it than I ever could so I really recommend it !! – December Trolls Art Prompts - Day 17: formal wear

[noctdusk]

Day 2 of the December Trolls Art Prompt !!!

I did genre swap w poppy because I think she would make a really cute techno troll

[spaloonbabooguuscooties]

day 1 - Favorite Character

for the december art prompt in da trolls server (:

some might think barb is my favorite .. . . .but actually its this lil pink bidch. poppy and her whole personality hits my stupid brain with serotonin!

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #12

 Word Count: ~ 2.400

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 12: Secret Santa

December had come around, bringing with it the heaps of snow Hogwarts had been spared from so far. Within days it buried everything in sight under a thick white blanket, transforming the landscape outside into a powdery winter wonderland.

Peeves had took it as his personal assignment to dump a heap of snow on every unsuspecting passer-by from questionable heights until Professor McGonagall publicly threatened to turn him into a Christmas cracker if she saw him with so much as a single snowflake in his unsubstantial hands again.

And as the castle was slowly but surely covered in ornaments and twinkling lights, the festive spirit spread into even the most remote corners of the dungeons.

It had become tradition for the Hufflepuff team to celebrate the holidays in their own way. Even back when Orion hadn’t been captain, the team used to gather after the last practise of the year for a small get-together in the Common Room, including a game of Secret Santa.

Whereas the idea of material gifts had never posed much of an interest to him, Orion couldn’t deny the astounding effect the game had on the rest of the team. The excitement of receiving a present from someone unknown positively electrified his friends. Consulting the ones closest to your assigned person for a suitable gift never failed to knit their team closer together.

So he had just continued entertaining this ritual after he had stepped up into his position. Especially this year, they could do with a little bit of festive unison.

The snowfall had increased again just as they were wrapping up their last manoeuvres. Everyone practically jumped off their broomsticks to retreat into the comforting warmth and light of the Common Room.  

McNully was already waiting for them as they entered through the narrow passageway, a trail of melted snow dragging on behind them. A small jute pouch adorned with an embroidered Christmas Tree rested on his lap. Fully immersed in the festive spirit, he was sporting a particularly nasty sweater picturing a badger dancing with a raven instead of his usual white shirt and tie. His golden snitch was still pinned to his chest, however.  

He wiggled his eyebrows in anticipation as they all got changed into their yellow and black team sweaters and settled down around him. A pot of hot chocolate was passed around, the warm smell spreading in the Common Room as each player poured themselves a cup, glad for something to put their freezing hands around.

McNully reached into the pouch and started mixing up the slips of parchment he had prepared in advance while reminding them of the rules.

“It is time for our annual Christmas draw, ladies and gentlemen! As we have some new faces to join in on the fun this year,” he inclined his head towards Everett, “I will present to you the rules once again.”

Orion shook his head with a chuckle. Murphy McNully, forever the presenter.

“Everyone is to draw a name of another member of the team. You have time until Christmas Day to buy, craft or create a suitable present for your assigned person. You may not reveal your identity to them unless they guess correctly. You are not to reveal your draw to another person unless your un-festive mind can’t think of anything to gift and needs creative assistance. If you fail to deliver on your task, I will brand you a Christmas troll and announce it publicly on your next friendly.”

Orion bit back a laugh at Murphy’s newest addition to the rules. His friend took the holidays very seriously.

They all took their turn lining up and dove their hands into the pouch, pulling out a neatly folded piece of parchment. The reactions to the names written on them ranged from relief over confusion to horror when it was a particularly difficult person to find a gift for. Orion found it fascinating to observe.

Laughter erupting from one of the armchairs drew his attention. Skye slumped in it while Lizzie was sitting on the floor with her back against the yellow armrest. Lucy had just showed her parchment to them, looking more chagrined than anything. Upon reading what was written on it, Skye had whispered something to them, prompting the girls to burst into laughter.

“You are not supposed to show who you got just yet!” Murphy scolded the girls. Spreading Christmas joy was a very serious business to him.

“Sorry!” Lizzie tried to appease him while still shaking from suppressed laughter. “Just go on!” Skye muttered something into her ear, drawing another set of giggles from her.

With an indignant huff Murphy returned to monitor the drawing while Orion quietly observed the scene. There were still some stray snowflakes hanging in her hair which was curling around her face as it dried in the warm air of the room. Her cheeks had turned red from laughing at Skye’s joke, a smile lingering on her lips, reaching up into her eyes.

He hadn’t seen Lizzie as carefree since what had happened back at the concert a few weeks prior. Everyone but McNully had left Hogsmeade soon after she had suddenly disappeared. They had found her in the Common Room, curled up in front of the fireplace, nose buried in a book and Mouse snuggled up on her lap. She had retreated to her dorm almost immediately after their arrival.

Neither of them had mentioned what had happened with so much as even a word. It wasn’t like Orion had a problem with that. He wasn’t entirely sure himself in what direction they had set their steps that day, or why he couldn’t get a hold of the reason everything had gone out of hand. It was like smoke, evading his grasp as soon as he tried to set his mind on unravelling what had taken place between them.

But he had noticed how Lizzie had started avoiding his company. Where she had been perfectly comfortable around him before, she now made sure someone was with her at all times, positively clinging to Skye when they had practise or her friend Rowan during their tutoring lessons.

It was this change of atmosphere Orion felt truly sorry about. He considered his friends his family and Lizzie actively seeking her distance from him unsettled him more than he cared to admit. It had never been his intention to cross a line. Like  a fool, he had let himself get carried away in the spur of the moment. He should have known better by now.

He missed chatting with her in the greenhouse the most. Lizzie was one of the few people seeing beyond him being the captain of the Hufflepuff team. She was actually listening to what he had to say. Instead of tuning out when she didn’t understand his point, she gave his words a thought until she had figured it out.  

As much as he longed to equilibrate their friendship again, he would have never forced her to talk to him if she clearly did not wish to do so.

Perhaps it was a good thing the Christmas break was so close. For the first time in years Orion was glad almost everyone was returning home for the holidays. Having the Common Room mostly to himself was the perfect occasion to take a step back and regain the balance he had been struggling to maintain as of late.

He wasn’t the only one watching the chuckling group of girls, however.

Everett seemed to be oddly interested in their conversation as well, his intense gaze trailing Lizzie’s every movement. Sensing Orion’s attention shifting to him, he suddenly perked his head up. His grey eyes narrowed as they made contact with Orion, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air between them.

Orion had no interest in a fight with him, so he merely held his gaze with level eyes. It took Everett a moment, but eventually, he broke the contact and turned away.

“Why is he looking at you like that?” McNully had finished monitoring the draw and came over to him. Everyone else was chatting excitedly about gift ideas and the upcoming break by now.

Orion’s eyes followed Everett as he got up and strutted over to the boys sharing their dorm. Maybe choosing him for the team had not been the wisest decision after all.

“People with strong characters like him often feel the inherent need to establish a hierarchy between them and others they deem a threat to their dominance,” Orion responded, half lost in thought.

“A threat, you?” McNully chortled.

He had to smile at his poor choice of words. “While I may not portray a dominant character, as captain I do fill the most prominent position in this team,” he explained his meaning. “I consider every one of us a vital piece of the greater picture and I find rivalries within our team to be unfortunate; we should always strive for unison. Because without unison, how can we reach a common goal?”

McNully stared after their roommate, silently calculating. “Whatever this is about, if he happened to have drawn your name, I’d like to inform you that there is the small possibility of 9.2 % that a present from him might be really unpleasant.”

His face suddenly lit up again and he shoved the almost empty pouch in Orion’s face. “Speaking of which, there’s only you and I left now.”

Not being half as enthusiastic as his friend, Orion waved him on. “Go ahead, I’ll take the last one.”

McNully pulled one of the two remaining slips of parchment out of the bag. A grin spread on his face when he read the name written on it. “Oh, that’s a tough one,” he mused, grey eyes sparkling. “Brilliant! I like a good challenge.”

He upended the pouch into his hand and handed the last parchment to Orion; he always took the one that was left.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile as he read the name written on it. Apparently, the universe had his own twisted sense of humour.

“Who’d you get to make you grin like that?”

Skye had suddenly appeared by his side, craning her head to catch a glimpse of the piece of paper between Orion’s fingers. He shifted his arm slightly to block her view and folded it up again.

“Skye, are you coming? We need to finish that Charms essay before the library closes,” Lizzie called over to her friend. She had gotten to her feet, her hand resting only lightly on the back of the armchair. She seemed very eager to leave the scene.

“Go ahead if you don’t want to wait, I’ll catch up to you.”

Lizzie hesitated for a moment before stepping back towards the group. She rubbed her hands against her arm and joined them, albeit subtly standing as far away from Orion as possible without it looking suspicious. He noticed it anyway.

Their eyes met for the briefest moment as she caught him looking at her and she immediately dropped her gaze, suddenly very invested in pulling on a loose thread at the hem of her sweater.

Skye tried to use his distraction to her advantage. With a quick movement she attempted to snatch the piece of parchment he was still holding between his index and his middle finger out of his hand.

“You are not supposed to know!” McNully shooed her away as Orion tucked the paper into the pocket of his pants.

“Don’t violate the rules, Skye Parkin, I’m warning you!” McNully scowled at her. “Lucy shouldn’t have shown you her parchment either. What was so funny about it anyway?”

Skye stuck her tongue out at him. “Of course, now you want to know.” She snickered again. “Lucy got Everett and has no idea what to get him. I told her maybe a braincell or two wouldn’t hurt.”

Orion tried to suppress his grin in vain, while even Lizzie started giggling again. Everett really didn’t seem to be the most popular member of their team.

“This is not what this game is about!” Murphy scolded, but he was grinning at Skye’s suggestion all the same. “Don’t ruin the Christmas spirit with your bad jokes.”

They were the only ones left in front of the fireplace. The other members of their team had one after the other filed away, now minding their own business. Skye sat down on the armrest of the sofa, resting her feet on the cushions.

“Speaking of Christmas, what are your plans this year?”

“I’m with my mum and grandma of course ,” Murphy told them while pointedly pushing Skye’s feet off the seat again. “Orion is going stay at the castle, I presume?”

Orion inclined his head. He always stayed at Hogwarts if he could.

“I’ll be with my family as well,” Lizzie added to the conversation. “We haven’t had a family Christmas for two years in a row now. My parents have been visiting my brother Jacob in the States.”

“I remember; you were at Weasley’s place for the past two years, weren’t you?” Skye mused. “That was when you and him- “

“Exactly; I’m really looking forward to being home for a bit,” Lizzie shut her friend up hurriedly.

Orion could see her cheeks blush slightly. He wondered why she was so intent on silencing Skye.

“It’ll be great to spend a bit of time with my family,” she quickly continued, brushing over Skye’s protest. “I’ll probably meet Penny some time as well; her family doesn’t live far from us.”

Skye had stopped protesting at her words; a sad expression shone in her eyes. The relationship between her and Penny was still strained, as far as Orion was aware.

He watched the girls chatter on about Christmas in silence. He saw Skye lean in to Lizzie. Although he didn’t mean to overhear their conversation, Skye was talking too loudly for him not to hear her words.

“You’re meeting Penny?” she asked silently. “Do you think you could talk to her on my behalf? Things are still so weird and I just want this to be over with,” she pleaded.

Lizzie shrugged. “Sure, I can try.”

“Smashing!”

Orion was still thinking about Skye’s request after the girls had left for the library and he and McNully had started a round of Wizards Chess. The Christmas break came at exactly the right time. It was an opportunity to look at things from a healthy distance and to get things back to order.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who was desperately in need of it.

[merpuccino]

When We Finally Kiss Goodnight

Title: When We Finally Kiss Goodnight

Prompt: “Let's go ice skating.” 

Natasha x Female Reader

Established relationship, Lesbian relationship, Female Reader, SHIELD Agent Reader

Summary: It's been nearly a year since you met Natasha Romanoff near the ice skating rink downtown. 

Natasha is awake when the coffee maker starts gurgling. You thought her eyes might pop open at the sound of fresh coffee brewing. 

You normally don't drink coffee this late but it's some Christmas blend and you really just like the smell. 

On the t.v you're watching figure skaters glide across ice, their expressions focused and elated all at once. You wonder what it must feel like to be there, to be able to move the way they do on ice. 

Natasha could do it, you think. You glance over at her as she stretches and yawns on the sofa. You've never seen someone who can nap the way she does. She does those twenty minute cat naps. This afternoon, however, she napped a little the way you do – knocked out for a couple of hours. You’ll probably tease her about being ‘one of us lowly normal humans’ when she wakes... Then again, maybe you shouldn’t say things like that? Sometimes you think she might be a little sensitive about how... unique she is. 

You've already set a glass of water on the coffee table for her, knowing that you’re usually pretty dehydrated after a nap. 

Natasha's chartreuse eyes are on the figure skaters before she glances over to you. She smiles a little, then spots the glass of water. 

“Oh is that for me?” Her voice is a bit rusty from sleep. It sounds cute, honestly, and more than a little hot. You don't know why, but that rusty crack to a woman's voice has always been kind of sexy. 

“Yep. Figured you'd need some water after that nap.”

“Yeah,” She sits up slowly, taking the water and adjusting her back against the arm of the sofa. She takes slow sips. You whistle in awe as the figure skater on screen, a slight, Asian girl leaves the ice and spins in the air. Almost like a cat, she lands gracefully on her feet, slipping right back into the rhythm of the song blasting on the speakers. 

You're pretty sure Natasha could do that. And then your brow furrows. How come you've never seen her skate? Then again, when exactly do either of you have time for something like ice skating?

The sun is setting – it's only around four in the afternoon but it's late December in New York City. With the short Christmas tree you put up topping a table by the t.v and a lamp on, it feels cozy in here.

This is your apartment – ish. Technically it was going to be Natasha's but then you moved in. You know Natasha has probably eight other places she could stay – Stark nee Avenger's tower for instance, or Clint Barton's place. She likely has at least three safe houses, among other places even you don't know about. But this is the place the two of you share. So far, it's been nice having her as your unofficial roommate. 

She's smiling a little at the sight of the girl on tv who is blushing and breathless after her performance. Applause rings out and the announcers discuss the minute mistakes she made that most people watching would never even notice. 

Natasha’s feet are propped up on your lap – you aren't sure when they arrived there or if you propped them up while trying to gingerly sit down and not startle her out of sleep. Natasha can be a very light sleeper. They're currently donning warm, knit socks with bright Fair Isle patterns.

Natasha yawns as she eyes the people on screen.

“I need to work out,” she sighs. “I've eaten way too much-”

“Oh don't start that,” you plead. “Don't remind me how much gingerbread I've eaten.”

She looks at you in surprise. “Sorry,” she says a moment later, her lips curling into a smirk. Her eyes clearly say 'You're the one who insists on making gingerbread every year.'

Yes, and every year they get more ridiculous. Last year you had a punk gingerbread people theme. This year they all ended up being superheroes. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you made the first batch at Stark Tower and invited Rogers and Banner to join in.

The fact that they each made the other as a gingerbread man made it even better. Banner did a great job making Cap's cowl and Rogers nearly used up all the green icing to make a Hulk. 

“I'm gonna use this really big gingerbread guy,” Steve said as he began to outline it in green. “Hulk smash!”

The memory makes you smile. All that sugar was worth it just to see a couple of grown men act like little kids. Tony Stark joined in and complained that their Iron Man wasn't accurate. The mental image of Steve Rogers rolling his eyes and saying “It's art, Tony. It's cookie art” causes you to laugh.

“What?” Natasha asks. 

“Nothing. Just remembering your uh, teammates decorating gingerbread.”

“They're your teammates too,” she slips up from the sofa, setting her now emptier glass of water down.

Your lip stretches at one corner. “Sure.”

“What? They are.” Natasha heads into the kitchen. “You want cream and sugar?”

“Sure,” you call. “Yes to both.”

“They are your teammates,” she reminds you when she returns with two mugs. She carefully hands you one as she sits down, setting her own mug on the coffee table.

“Maybe,” you say. “But only ‘cause...”

“Cause what?”

You shrug, glancing away from the screen to look at her.

“I don't know...”

“Cause of me?” She asks after taking a sip of her coffee. You consider your own, breathing in the smell before taking a sip.

“Maybe.”

She snorts. “Maybe? Does it bother you? That you're on the team because of me?”

“I don't know... It doesn't bother me.” You shrug. “I just feel like... I'm kind of a temporary member? Or you know... I'm just there on occasion, when needed.”

“I mean, technically we're all just there when we're needed.” She shrugs. “We're hardly active all the time.”

“Yeah, that's true. I mean I guess you guys are more of a 'existential threats' kind of group.”

“What'd you call us? A raid group?” She smirks. Your face flushes. You got Natasha to game with you on occasion, but you're kind of the resident gaming nerd.

“Something like that,” you chuckle.

“I like it.” Natasha reaches out and takes your free hand in hers. It feels nice. Her hand is warm. “Whoo! Your hand is cold!”

“Yeah... I've been sitting here messing around on my phone.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Taking pictures of me while I sleep?”

You lean in to give her a gentle kiss. 

“You know it,” you joke.

“Creep.” She laughs, red hair tossing as she turns her head to look at the screen again. Every time you kiss Natasha it makes your heart beat a little faster. It causes other things to happen too but you remind yourself she just woke up from a nap and is probably feeling a little groggy.

“Have you seen yourself in underwear?”

She snorts. “Pervert.”

“Um, yeah. How long have we been living together? Three months?”

Something about saying it out loud sends your stomach into a little dive. You don't know why but you feel like clutching her hand even more tightly. She just shakes her head, looking amused, her eyes on the screen as she takes another sip of her coffee. You take a sip of your own, trying not to squeeze her hand in yours.

“Let's go ice skating,” you blurt. She gives you a puzzled look.

“Right now?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Um... the sun is setting,” she laughs.

“Well... I think that skating rink is still open in the evening.” You point out. “We should go while it's still open.”

She tilts her head at you. “You mean the one where we met?”

“Yeah. Where you met me the first time.”

“I'll have to thank Nick for that.”

“Same.” You gently squeeze her hand.

“You sap,” she teases.

“Now you sound like Rogers.”

“He's probably rubbed off on me-” She stops herself immediately and rolls her eyes as you smirk and waggle your eyebrows. “Nice. Very mature.” But she laughs, in spite of your gross joke.

“You really wanna go ice skating?” She asks a moment later and you shrug.

“It's been forever honestly.”

“We used to, when I was a kid,” she says quietly. She rarely ever mentions being a kid and you know why. Natasha grew up in a place called 'the Red Room' – people took her and other little girls and trained them to be weapons. You're pretty sure her childhood was nightmare fuel so you don't press her about it.

“What time is it?” Natasha picks up her phone which is lying on the coffee table and peeks.

“Like... four?”

“Four thirty. Do you think it's open right now?”

“I've seen the one at the park open.”

“Which one?” Natasha is already opening Google Maps. “There are two.”

“Um... I think the one closer to our place. The one near the zoo. Wollman Rink?”

“Let me see...” The light from the phone washes over her face as she slides a finger over it. Her eyes reflect the screen, a little rectangle in a green world. “Yeah, looks like they're open until 11 tonight.” She looks at you again. “Wanna go?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “Let's finish our coffee first. Then we can bundle up. Are you hungry?”

“Not at the moment. But we could grab something after maybe?”

Coffee under your belts and plans made, the two of you set off. Wollman Rink isn't far on foot but it's freezing outside and you're glad you bundled up. Natasha is actually wearing a coat which isn't a total surprise but she tends to tease you and the others about what you consider 'cold.' Granted she is from like, Ukraine, and grew up in Russia. Winters there must be pretty intense compared to what you're used to. You're not even from New York either.

On the way there you see a Greek restaurant you might like to stop at later. You point it out and Natasha shrugs.

“Might be good.”

You offer one glove covered hand and take hers in it. She smirks.

“I like your mittens,” you tease.

“Shut up,” she laughs. “Rogers got them for me along with the hat. I think he just never knows what to get me for Christmas.”

The mittens and hat are both white with pink stripes and designs. The hat has a big white pom pom on it and you smile and shake your head.

“I think he was trolling you.”

“Pretty much,” She smirks. “But I figure, why not? I'll wear it.”

“The Hufflepuff scarf is pretty great too.”

“Oh. That was Clint,” She rolls her eyes. “He gave me this like a year ago actually.”

“Are you a Hufflepuff?”

She tilts her head at you for a moment. “What do you think I am?”

You're silent for a moment as you side step somebody.

“Hm... I mean I could easily see you as Hufflepuff – because you do like to help people.”

“Do I?”

“I think so. But you're also cunning. So I could see Slytherin.”

“I think everybody assumes I'm a Slytherin,” She says. “Or would if they even think about it.”

“I've tested Slytherin before.”

She laughs. “Is there an official test?”

“I mean, there's a test on Pottermore.” You feel your face flush.

“Pottermore?”

“Don't judge me! It's an official website,” You add in explanation after you laugh in embarrassment.

“Nice.”

“But there's other quizzes too.”

“I have taken Harry Potter quizzes – I will go ahead and admit it. Clint actually gave me one of the books to read... Back when I first joined SHIELD.”

“Cool. Sounds like good reading for when you're... about to join SHIELD I guess?”

She smiles.

“When you're leaving an organization that brainwashed you,” she points out.

“Yeah.”

SHIELD is in pieces now – or it was broken open and revealed to be full of HYDRA agents anyway. There are still SHIELD agents, working under Phil Coulson, and you're one of them. But your role these days is largely helping the Avengers.

Ice in the streets crunches under your boots as you walk. Natasha doesn't seem bothered by the cold. You've worn enough under layers to be warm so it's not bothering you yet either. The wind is a little cutting and you draw closer to her as you walk.

When you reach the rink, the two of you wrestle to pay the fee first. Natasha manages to get cash into the hand of the woman at the entrance first and you laugh, cursing her.

“How dare you!”

“You can get dinner,” she's snickering at how upset you are.

Next, you're strapping on a pair of ice skates and stuffing your shoes into the same cubby. Natasha is out first on the ice – the intrepid one this evening. Just as you suspected, she's slightly wobbly at first but takes to it like a duck to water, laughing and gliding along.

“Wait up!” you call, unable to help from smiling. “Jerk!” You shake your fist in mock anger and she snorts.

“Hurry up!”

You step out onto the ice, a little tense at first, but you gradually loosen up as you realize you're not going to fall on your ass in front of everybody. You catch up to her and she offers you her hand.

You take it, even though you're a little suspicious she might troll you, pull you along playfully.

“Let's go slow at first,” you point out.

“You're the one who's always rushing into stuff,” she laughs.

“That is true.”

Natasha is generally more cautious than you. Maybe it's because you're younger but you tend to throw yourself head first into some things.

“How do you say 'ice skating' in Russian?”

She groans. You're always trying to pick up more Russian and you even started using an app to learn.

“Come o-on!” You goad her.

“Kataniye na kon'kakh.”

“Katanya what?”

She snorts and speakers slower. “Kataniye. Na. Kon'kakh. Or if you wanted to say 'I like to ice skate' you could say “Ya lyublyu katat'sya na kon'kakh.”

“Kataniye na kon'kakh,” You murmur to yourself.

“Very good.” She smiles.

“What was the first language you learned beside Russian?”

She thinks for a moment, glancing out over the other people gliding on the ice. Most of them are couples or parents with kids. You watch a ten year old girl squeal as she slides over to her mom. The woman is smiling and holding her arms open to the kid. Nearby her husband and a little boy skate.

“English,” she says finally. “That and I think French? They tried to get us to learn as many as possible.”

You nod. You can speak a couple of languages but you're pretty sure Natasha has you beat. Then again, she is a master spy.

“Sometimes I like to imagine being a figure skater,” You confess, smiling a little.

“Yeah?” She looks at you. “You could still do it.”

You laugh. “Hell no. I mean, it's fun to do. It's a great hobby... But it's not what... It's not my dream.”

“What is your dream?”

You think about it for a few moments.

“I really don't know. I'd like to travel the world, I guess?”

Natasha nods. “You'll definitely do that working for SHIELD.”

“Well I don't mean for work. I mean... just 'cause.”

“Yeah... I don't know. Travel doesn't mean the same for me I guess.” She shrugs. “It's always been for work.”

“Is there anywhere you'd like to go?”

She studies a tree nearby, a fir decorated with baubles and lights.

“Maybe...” She smirks. “The North Pole?”

“Don't be silly.”

“No really. There's a place called The North Pole. In Finland.”

“You're bullshitting me.”

“No, I'm serious!”

“What they have like.. Santa Claus and elves?”

“They have reindeer.” She frowns. “Actually I'd really like to visit Machu Picchu.”

“Yeah. That would be pretty cool.”

“I don't know why, but I like ancient ruins.”

“I grew up watching Indiana Jones movies, so I get it, trust me.”

She laughs. “It's not like I think it would be this great adventure. It would just be interesting.”

“Yeah. Archaeology is pretty cool. I'd like to go surfing in different parts of the world.”

“I didn't know you surfed.”

“Yeah. I mean I haven't done it a lot of times – and I suck at it. But it's fun. I've heard about some really great places for surfing.”

“Yeah? Where?”

You shrug. “Australia.”

“Australia sounds interesting. If it's beaches we're talking though, I like Hawaii.”

“I've never been to Hawaii.”

“I went once, with Barton, a couple years ago.”

“That sounds nice.”

“There are some really beautiful parts of Hawaii.”

There's something pretty special about skating around the very spot you first met Natasha. You remember spotting her coming around the other side of the rink. Her hair was shorter than it is now, but just as bright, swinging loose from her hood as she pushed it back.

You can remember Nick Fury standing next to you saying 'Here she comes.' The way you couldn't take your eyes off her.

You squeeze her hand gently in yours.

“I'd like to go Hawaii with you.”

She smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You lean in and kiss her. She sputters at first, maybe surprised that you're kissing her in public. But you don't care if anyone sees. She's the most beautiful woman you've ever been with and you're out together, close to New Year's eve, ice skating. Life has never felt more like a movie than it has at this moment.

You want to say those three little words. But when you do use them, it's sparingly, because you're pretty sure Natasha has a hard time hearing and repeating them.

You chance it.

“I love you.”

She smiles, then glances away. She has a flush to her face and something about her reaction makes your heart break.

“Race me?” she says, glancing back at you, her lips in a wily smirk and a gleam in her eye.

“Yeah right. You already know you'll beat me. Hey!” You cry out, a laugh on your lips as she releases your hand and speeds ahead. “Dork!”

“Can't catch me!” She sings back, gracefully sliding around the little family you spotted earlier.

“This is so unfair!” You call after her, trying to catch up. You can't help but laugh as you nearly stumble several times. “How are you this fast?” You shout.

When you finally catch up, she's paused by the side of the rink and is laughing, both of you breathless.

“I thought you said it was years since you last skated!” You gasped.

“No! I said that I went skating when I was a kid.” She grins. “Barton likes to try and challenge me on occasion on everything from air hockey to handstands.” She rolls her eyes.

“Right,” you nod. You've seen those two battle over a pin ball machine and even in the archery range in Stark Tower. (The fact that it has an archery range is still kind of mind blowing and ridiculous, honestly)

“I forget you two are the Wonder Twins.”

She laughs. “The Wonder Twins. I love it when you say that.”

“Oh man, I should have gotten you guys t shirts for Christmas!”

“Well his birthday is coming up in the summer,” she smirks.

“Ahh,” You offer your hand. “Or your Unbirthday.”

Natasha doesn't know when her actual birth date is so she just picked a random day in April simply because she likes spring. You feel proud of the fact that you know that Natasha likes spring. It's one of those things most people don't know about her.

You figure a lot of people just expect her to be all dark and morbid but honestly? Natasha loves Halloween for the same reason she loves Christmas – it's an excuse to have fun and be with other people. This is the side of her that only you and a few other people get to see.

“You know something?” You hold her hands in yours and she groans.

“You're being sappy again,” she teases, but her eyes are alight and her lips are pulling into another smile.

“I am so glad I have you in my life.”

She looks back at you quietly for a few moments.

“Oh yeah?”

You nod. “Cause you're such a dork!” You laugh and start to skate away. “The race isn't over!”

She laughs.

“You're the one who's a dork!”

She begins to chase after you after a moment.

Naturally, Natasha catches up and speeds past you, beating you pretty soundly. The two of you skate for a while longer until you're both complaining about your noses being frozen. Then you decide to stop by the restaurant you saw to pick up dinner.

Back at your place, on the couch, you curl up together and decide to watch Die Hard as you eat your take out.

“Samuel L Jackson will always remind me of Nick Fury,” You note. “Mothafucka.”

“Yeah... I'm pretty sure Ol Sam Jackson is more laid back than Fury.”

“You're probably right.” You scoot closer to her and she smiles. A few moments later, she leans into you.

“I don't care what you and Clint say. Die Hard is not a Christmas movie.”

“Maybe not,” you shrug. “But it's worth watching during Advent all the same.”

“I'm happy to have you in my life too, you know,” she says it quietly but it makes you look at her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leans in and kisses you.

“Well, I'm glad. Otherwise this would be really awkward.”

She snorts. Then she starts to laugh.

“You are such a dork,” she shakes her head and looks back at the screen.

“Am I your favorite dork?”

“Aside from Clint? Yes.” She smiles.

That, you decide, is more than enough for now.

[aevykcreates]

Alhough I don’t have much time to draw (due to my participation on the Daylight December and the new Trollhunters Art Zine), when I saw the we-are-the-trollhunters prompt around Tumblr, I knew that I needed to participate . 

First of all, I don’t think I would have been a good Trollhunter when I was 15/16. I was really depressed and I wouldn’t have been able to protect another creature back then. Anyway, I’d totally ask the armor to give me a skirt because I’m very complexed by my thighs and even though I’d be really scared at first, I’d give my best in every training and I’d try to learn everything about the Trolls.

[taule]

J.J. Abrams on The Rise of Skywalker Critics and Defenders: “They’re All Right”

But they’re wrong about his relationship with The last Jedi director Rian Johnson: “It’s been nothing but collaborative.”

Remember when Obi-Wan Kenobi decided he would no longer fight Darth Vader in their final showdown during the original Star Wars? At a post-screening Q&A for The Rise of Skywalker on Friday night, J.J. Abrams essentially did the same thing, lifting his lightsaber in reflection rather than battle. Strike if you feel that's right; but he will not be striking back.

The only thing he rejects is the notion that there is a disturbance or hostility between him and The Last Jedi filmmaker Rian Johnson.

The newest Star Wars film has received punishing reviews from critics, although audience scores on sites like Rotten Tomatoes are significantly more positive. There’s no denying that the ninth film in the Skywalker saga has divided the vast fandom for the series, even as it tallies strong box office numbers. Intense and heartfelt reactions both in favor of its story and against it continue to emerge as more people see it.

After a screening at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences on Friday, Abrams was asked what he would say to those who are unhappy. Are they not getting something? “No, I would say that they’re right,” he answered quickly. “The people who love it more than anything are also right.”

Abrams still believes in his movie, but he expressed respect to those who had a differing view and suggested everyone in the fandom should do the same to each other, no matter where they stand.“There is an MO of either: ‘It’s exactly as I see it, or you’re my enemy,’” he said. “It’s a crazy thing that there’s such a norm that seems to be void of nuance and compassion — and this is not [a phenomenon] about Star Wars, this is about everything.”

The director had just returned from a global tour with the film, where he also fielded questions about that mixed reaction. “I was asked just seven hours ago in another country, ‘So how do you go about pleasing everyone?’ I was like’ What…?’ Not to say that that’s what anyone should try to do anyway, but how would one go about it? Especially with Star Wars.”

With a series like this, spanning more than four decades, nearly a dozen films, several TV shows, and countless novels, comics, and video games, the fanbase is so far-reaching that discord may be inevitable. “We knew starting this that any decision we made — a design decision, a musical decision, a narrative decision — would please someone and infuriate someone else,” Abrams said. “And they’re all right.”

But they are wrong about him and Johnson, he insists, and the notion that The Rise of Skywalker is trying to undo what Johnson did with The Last Jedi. “It would be a much more interesting answer if there were conflict,” Abrams said. “The truth is when I was getting [The Force Awakens] up and running, I was nothing but grateful that a director and writer I admire as much as Rian was coming in to do [the next one.] Not expecting to come back to this, it was just fun to watch what was happening and get to respond to it.”

Johnson earned exceptionally high marks from critics for The Last Jedi, which depicted Luke Skywalker as fearful and embittered before rediscovering his courage through the help of Rey’s decency and determination. However, that 2017 film was just as divisive within the fandom— with some irked about moments like Luke dismissively tossing aside his family lightsaber, and Kylo Ren smashing his iconic mask after it was mocked by his Supreme Leader.

A backlash and counter backlash over The Last Jedi endures to this day. It was hailed for its originality by some, but criticized by others for going too far to subvert expectations. There were critiques about the movie’s plot and logistics, but it also suffered unspeakable and indefensible racist and misogynist attacks from online trolls.

In some cases in The Rise of Skywalker, Abrams may be getting dinged for picking up where Johnson left off, because some may only be thinking of where Johnson began. With Snoke now deceased in The Rise of Skywalker, Ren rebuilds his mask — but the ugly memory from that previous insult lingers, and he is hypersensitive to anyone he believes might mock it. Abrams himself noted that Luke’s presence in Rise (which we won't spoil here) is more in line with the hero he is at the end of The Last Jedi than the hopeless figure at its start.

Johnson also introduced "the democratization of the Force," a notion that the invisible cosmic power was reaching out to ordinary people beyond the descendants of Jedi and Sith. That premise is still in Rise, albeit less overtly, in the form a group of new warriors led by Jannah (Naomi Ackie) who reveals she and others have experienced a kind of extrasensory power that guides them in inexplicable ways. They’re describing the Force, although they don’t have the word for it.

There is one major change, though, that is prompting the most objection. The Force Awakens introduced a mystery about Rey’s family history, and The Last Jedi appeared to answer it by having Kylo Ren reveal that the former scavenger was far from the being the descendant of a powerful Force-wielder. Instead, she was a “nobody, from nowhere,” whose parents were junk traders who sold her for drinking money.

“The easiest thing for Rey and the audience to hear is, Oh yeah, you’re so-and-so’s daughter. That would be wish fulfillment and instantly hand her a place in this story on a silver platter,” Johnson said at a Q&A for the same opening-weekend Academy screening in December 2017. “The hardest thing for her is to hear she’s not going to get that easy answer. … You’re going to have to find the strength to stand on your own two feet and define yourself in this story.”

Tasked with the creation of a new film, Abrams and co-screenwriter Chris Terrio (Argo) felt they had to up the ante — taking her despair at being “no one” and revealing that there may be an even more unsettling answer than that one. Abrams said Johnson was consulted on the story, adding that many of their new plot points were only possible because they built upon Johnson’s offbeat narrative.

“We had conversations with Rian at the beginning. It’s been nothing but collaborative,” Abrams said. “The perspective that, at least personally, I got from stepping away from it and seeing what Rian did, strangely gave us opportunities that would never have been there, because of course he made choices no one else would have made.”

“In a way it felt kind of like a gift, though of course there were challenges in every direction,” Abrams said. “It was actually weirdly more helpful than not, having that other energy to the story. There was an alchemy because of the things that he did.”

[ Vanity Fair ]

[sea-wolf-coast-to-coast]

FFxivWrite2018 – FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge!

Last year I ran what I thought was going to be a small writing challenge for the FFxiv community, but with 2,200+ submissions over the course of the 30 days, it didn’t end up being small at all! There was such an incredible outpouring of creativity and positivity in our community throughout the challenge and I was really blown away by the response.

So, let’s do it again! I know that November is high writing time for many of us with NaNoWriMo on the horizon, but for those of us who want to keep it a bit more simple – I propose this 30 day writing challenge.

What’s a 30 day writing challenge? :o

Why, it’s challenge in which you write in response to a daily prompt that I post here, of course!  Songs, poems, limericks, short stories, etc. are perfectly acceptable. If it’s a thing you can write, then it counts.

Here’s how it works:

Beginning Thursday November 1st, I, @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​, will post one new single word writing prompt daily at 12:00pm (noon) CST/CDT. Prompts can be interpreted in any way that you’d like. More about single word prompts here. Check back daily for the latest prompt!

Participants have until 12:00pm (noon) CST/CDT the following day (24 hours) to submit a written response, and tag it with #FFxivWrite2018 (don’t forget the tag!).

Each written response submitted within it’s 24 hour deadline will count as one entry toward a raffle for a participation prize at the end of the month.

Written responses submitted outside of the 24 hour deadline for a prompt are still welcome and will be thoroughly enjoyed! They simply won’t count as an entry toward the participation prize. 

When you see a “Like” from sea-wolf-coast-to-coast you can rest assured that I’ve seen your response and have entered it into my master participation prize document. Please allow up to 48 hours for me to like your post before reaching out to check (but DO reach out to check if you don’t see one after 48 hours). More info about making sure people can find your posts here.

On Saturday, December 1st, I’ll count up all the participation tallies, each day counting as one entry per writer, and draw a winner!

The winner of the participation prize will receive a black & white drawing of their character from one of our volunteer artists. Please note that the number of prizes available at the end depend on how many artists would like to volunteer to illustrate a prize.

If you’re an artist and you would like to volunteer to do a simple black & white illustration as a participation prize at the end of this contest, please let me know!

Rules:

You cannot submit things that you’ve already written – Even if the topic is the same. All entries must be new and freshly written for this challenge!

No rough drafts and no redos – Relax! Use this as a low pressure opportunity to loosen up and de-rust your writing chops. No one will be judging your work for quality or length. The purpose is to get into the habit of writing daily. Don’t overthink it, and don’t put too much pressure on yourself! It’s all for fun!

Tag all of your entries with #FFxivWrite2018 – Even if you’re late to the writing party. I’ll be using this tag to track daily participants, so if you don’t use it, I won’t find your entry! Please note that entries that include an external link (to a song, piece of art etc.) will not show up in the tag results. Tumblr hides all posts with external links from their tag feeds. :[

Include the prompt number in the title of your post – Example: “Prompt #10: Your Title.” This helps me keep track of participating entries.

You have until prompt #7 to back write for the participation prize – That means that if you discover the writing challenge a few days, or even a week after it’s started, you can still jump in and back write as many of the first 7 prompts as you want, and they’ll count as entries toward the participation prize! After day 8, however, no back writing will be counted towards the prize. That being said, it is totally possible for someone with only 1 participation entry for the duration of the contest to be drawn as the participation prize winner so don’t give up due to lack of participation overall!

Absolutely no griefing, harassing, or trolling other writers – This will earn you an automatic disqualification from the event.

Tag NSFW content with #NSFW and put it below a cut – Similarly, if your entry contains graphic or violent content that may be triggering to others, please include a brief trigger warning at the top of your post. Be considerate of your readers!

Make-up Days

There will be two make-up days scheduled. On make-up days you’re permitted to select one prompt that you missed and submit it for full participation prize credit within the 24 hour deadline for the day. If you’ve already submitted all prompts so far within their 24 hour deadline, then you can make up your own prompt for yourself and submit it within the 24 hour make-up day deadline to count as an extra credit entry toward the participation prize.

Sunday, 11/11

Sunday, 11/25

Free/Extra Credit Days

There will be two Free/Extra Credit days scheduled. Free/Extra Credit days are days in which no prompt will be provided, and therefore no submission will be expected for the day. However, if you’re in the mood to write something anyway, you can create your own prompt for yourself and submit an entry within the 24 hour deadline for the day that will count as an extra credit entry toward the participation prize.

Election Day – Tuesday, 11/6

Thanksgiving Day – Thursday, 11/22

If you complete all prompts and all extra credit days within their 24 hour deadlines and properly tag the entries, it’s possible to achieve 30 entries toward the final participation prize at the end of the month. 

What’s the purpose of this writing challenge?

First and foremost, the purpose of this challenge is to break the power of perfectionism over your personal creative process. Some folks frown on my 24-hour submission deadline but I think that it’s a critical part in getting people to just go ahead and submit something, even if it’s not perfect, and in doing so perfectionism begins to lose its power day by day. 

If you’re someone who rarely creates because the fear of it not being perfect keeps you from starting, or finishing, then this challenge is designed for YOU!

Of course, connecting FFxiv writers, of all skill and experience levels, and sharing our work is also a perk!

Whether you’re participating or not, consider checking out the #FFxivWrite2018 tag periodically after November 1st and like/reblog your favorite pieces. Show the FFxiv writing community some love!

[solidburnreturned]

december trolls art prompts day 10 (fav ship) and day 11 (pride headcanon)! 

parb of courseee and then a gay trans man riff!