#its an adaptation he can be nicer to his kid

[theaceofarrows]

After seeing the pjo show Hades, I am utterly convinced that he is going to embarrass Nico so much during TLO story arc. Not even in the jerk way, but in the blunt dad way

-

Hades: [to Percy] I grant you he might not look like much right now, but once I imprison you, and he trains more for a few years and finally grows into that jacket-

Nico: Father-

Hades: -He'll definitely turn out to be the prophesied kid

Hades: I mean he's already grown a bit in the last two years. You should've seen him when he was younger, he was so small-

Nico: Father please-

Hades: -Really small. I thought he'd get carried away by a hawk like a small dog

Nico: fAtHeR~!

Percy: ...

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️

81 for ⚖️:

Under the cut for referenced suicide:

---

The students who just arrived in the U.S. from abroad and don’t have a clear grip on the language or its colloquialisms. And when, in senior year, one of the girls they’ve targeted ends her life, they don’t give him the trouble he deserves. He gets only a suspension, and then his parents pack him off and send him to the military to learn some respect. 

He does well in the military. Adapts quick. Learns the right way to behave. How to work as a unit rather than an individual. He has an aptitude for it. Like he’s meant to thrive best in a pack of hungry coyotes, picking off suburban pets overnight. He quickly gets a stern verbal lashing from his sergeant for picking on other recruits in basic. So he changes. Learns to adapt his joking and his teasing to match his audience. Women. Queer men. Trans people. The immigrant populations of the people the United States is at war with. He learns who to talk around, and who not to. And it makes him friends, again. Friends just like him. And if he realizes that, deep down, he’s hurting himself, he puts that aside. It’s better to be liked. 

He’s in the fire station with Captain Gerrard. He’s in an inner circle. A favorite child. A good worker and the kind of man the captain likes. And he didn’t even have to save him from an errant saw blade to accomplish that. All he had to do was agree with bigoted takes and inhabit some degree of traditional masculinity. It’s all other white men like him at the 118 - a demographic he’s comfortable with. He’s constantly nervous they’ll think he’s gay. So he likes to deflect where he can. It’s for this reason, that when Howard Han shows up as the 118’s newest probie, Tommy is the one to make the first racist crack. 

Buck nearly flinches out of the vision at that. He writhes against it. This can’t be happening. He can’t be seeing this. He can’t be seeing Tommy isolate Chimney for months, following Gerrard’s lead and, at times, acting worse than him. He can’t be seeing the same treatment for Hen, exacerbated by her gender and sexuality. Why? Why wouldn’t they tell him? Why would they act okay with Buck dating him? Or did they try to tell him, and he couldn’t hear them? He doesn’t know. He can’t be sure. And right now, this isn’t about him anyway. 

He watches as Tommy changes his behavior. Adapts when he becomes the minority at the 118, as the team shifts and changes. He’s nicer. He’s kinder. His jokes are self-directed now. It’s all strategic. He does the same at Harbor, when he goes. And when he realizes there are a few other gay men on the team, well-regarded, he comes out. A good thing, finally. He’s different. But he’s not repentant. He was just doing what he had to do to survive, he reasons. He never thinks about any of it. 

He watches him date a few men. None of whom stick around. All of them encountering some sour piece of his personality and calling it off. He watches Tommy’s resentment grow because of it. Rejection stinging him the way he always feared that it would. Then he watches him meet Eddie. And Buck, granted. But it’s Eddie he notices. Eddie he wants. Eddie, who he adapts his personality to befriend. Who he pursues, even after hearing about Marisol. Who he finds every opportunity to get drunk, in Vegas or Los Angeles, just to see if what he expects is a face will crack.

One of the nights Buck sees, is the trivia night. When Buck was home with Christopher, while Eddie went out with Tommy to a bar. Tommy drives a very drunk Eddie back to his place. Offers him another drink. Relax, he says. Evan is with your kid, right? So Eddie accepts the other drink. Gets a little silly drunk, not knowing it’s a double shot. They laugh and chat and sit close together on Tommy’s couch, Tommy doing his best to make Eddie comfortable. Then, he asks. Would you ever kiss another man? 

[mywifealhaitham]

◟✶◝ general qifrey dating headcanons

◟a/n◝ posting this in hopes that more people read and write for witch hat atelier... it's such a good series and I hope that the anime adaptation help boost its popularity 😞

• first of all, dating him means you also get four kids and one tired uncle. qifrey and the kids + Olruggio are one huge package deal but by know you probably already know.

• you two would have to have known eachother for awhile for any type of romantic relationship to blossom. Qifrey is already a mysterious man and keeps almost everyone far away from his actual self, going as far as erasing his best friends memories when he learned the truth.

• with you however he's nicer and gentler. you can see how his mask drops and cracks ever so slightly when you're alone with him asking about his magic and updates about the brimhats and surprising he'll tell you snippets of his progress though not enough for his true intentions to shine through but enough to bring you both closer.

• during the day he's practically clinging onto you whenever your near. If you live with him in his atelier then goodluck because you'll need every lucky item for him to leave your side even for a few hours. if you live farther away then you bet he'll visit you everyday when he's free, often bringing a new magical item Olruggio made or bringing along coco and the others for some training with you.

• speaking of his apprentices they love you alot, they love their professor so naturally that love pours onto you. often times they'll ask you to help or hang out with them if you're free. Riche will ask you to help clean brushbug, she loves observing how you work with or without magic. she loves how every move you make your personality shines through and she aspires to have that ability. Tetia often asks you things about fashion and what types of clothes look the best and what styles compliment the types of magic. sometimes she'll doodle new magic ideas or outfits to show too you and when you tell her that you're proud of her and her ideas are splendid her face shines so bright and she gives you a smile that melts everything around you.

• Agott really only asks you your opinion on new magic she made and if there's any improvements needed. you always tell her the truth while reassuring her that she's doing good and that her magic is something she should be very proud of. Coco is often by qifreys side when he visits you but sometimes she'll come alone and when she does she begs you to tell her anything that she doesn't know about magic. even if you tell her a basic fact about magic that every witch in the land knows her face will light up with excitement and she'll beg for more and sometimes to the point where qifrey or agott has to drag her away from you.

• qifrey is a huge sap, to the point he gets corny. when he does everyone, including you, groans loudly and looks away from him. he always brings you fresh flowers for your nightstand and always invites you over for dinner (if you live separately from him). on some nights where it's quiet and everyone has gone to bed he teaches you magic and sometimes you two learn something new together.

• moments like these are so important to qifrey, he adores magic and spending time improving it with someone he also adores is practically heaven for him. despite all the struggles he deals with and the despair that lingers in his mind, he always finds solace in you and he hopes if there's ever a time where he forgets who he is and what's important to him that you're there to guide him home.

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Incomplete list of changes I would make to mha if god gave me the ability to do so

So

Shinso is Midoriya’s main rival/foil among his classmates and actually gets a proper arc, Shigiraki can continue to be his villain rival

No Bakugo, he’s not plot relevant at all after the first episode. We will vaguely refer back to him in the final season with a shot of him staring at one of Deku’s battles from like a store or something but that’s it I want him gone

Female Shouto Todoroki

Also less in the whole Todoroki family arc about how sad Endeavour is that his family hates him for abusing them for their whole lives and more about the Todosibs complicated relationships with each other and Rei

No villains for the entire first season its just focused on UA, the competitive environment and how Izuku adapts to that and also his blossoming friendships

No Toga Ochako foil, there’s no reason for them to be foils sans ‘girl’. Idk develop that one gas villain (Mustard?) or whatever and have him be Ochako’s foil

Give Toga a proper character about self identity or whatever instead of just that love bullshit, idk she can foil someone else, I like villain hero foils but Ochako Toga was not it for me

The first villain the UA kids would fight is Stain. This isn’t just bc the Stain arc is one of my personal favorites, but I think it would be a cool transition between a mainly school focused 1st and partially 2nd season that would mainly worldbuild and get us into hero society and graducally exposing the flaws in that society. Given the LoV are basically just a bunch of people who are the result of the cracks in hero society I think it would be a nice seguway

Also Iida Tensi should actually be a corrupt hero.

Stain Iida parallels!!

Aizawa is actually forced to realize he’s a shitty teacher and has to undergo a character arc to be nicer to the people around him and realize that trauma does not make people stronger, it didn’t for him and it won’t for his students

Midnight is given development as a mentor and hero beyond boob jokes and dying

Also, like... if you want to make Mineta a character people don’t want to see die the second he’s on screen just have him gradually grow out of being so perverted?? Like a joke here or there is okay I guess but as the series goes on he should also get development lmao

Significantly more of 1A and 1B should be from hero families. Nepotism baybee.

More focus on some of the topics in heroism set up earlier in the series, like how heroes are paid based on who gets credit for taking down a villain and things like public image and charisma and how that allows for more corruption to fester

Either develop Aoyama more and make us care about him or make someone else (ie Ochako, refer back to my ‘why Ochako should have been the UA traitor post) the traitor who we actually care about

Keep Izuku analyzing quirks jesus fuck let him think instead of just be a plot device

More worldbuilding in general tbh

Let at least some of 1A ultimately become vigilantes after realizing the system is corrupt and made to benefit the people in power and heroes in this world are just functionally superpowered cops and that’s not the right type of system to see as morally infallible- *I am shot and killed by Horikoshi*

There’s more but I’m tired, please add at your wish

[imaginativeamateur]

can you do 30 with kakashi and a fem reader pls 🥺🤲 I love your work and am so happy for you regarding your follower milestone, congrats !!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] The Power of Love

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 30 — "I mean it."

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Aloha, I'm back!!! Thanks for the request and the cheers😝 Okay, this one is AHHH, the title :DD This one is very sentimental but playful at the same time. There's like some serious talk but also entertaining moments, too. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Constant requests that you get married were sent in your way for the past several months. Your parents were tired of having to wait to see you bring a man home, but you had no intention to comply. The topic would come up to the table during dinner every now and then, with your mother furrowing in her brows and your father sighing in distress. On your part, you played cool, soothing them that you just found a guy and dismissing the matter with a feigned grin.

Everything would be ordinary, much to your own liking until your parents secretly signed you up for a match-matching service. You had a big argument that night but they smugly smiled and ensured that you would fall in love with him immediately. It was ridiculous.

“You’d be head over heels in no time, Y/N,” your mother said.

“Like she knows who he is,” you mumbled, scoffing on your way back to your apartment.

Though you completely shut the door to the new romance—the guy that you presumably knew nothing about—you woke up earlier than usual, earlier than you should. You blamed it on your neighbor’s child crying but you discerned that you were being irrational. The whole situation was aberrant. You purposefully threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt that was too worn out for a first date. Still, you could not be any more careless, the last thing you wanted was to get the man to generate some form of adoration for you. You checked yourself in the mirror and made sure that you looked representable nonetheless.

The sun was already high up in the sky when you locked your door and tiredly dropped the keys into your handbag, storming to the destination with angry steps. It was your day off and you could have spent your time on something much more meaningful, training, for example. Kakashi-senpai said you still needed to hone your close combat skills. You pursed your lips at the thought of the Hatake, feeling even more enraged and annoyed. The said Shinobi was a nice guy, he was gentle and mannered with everyone but you. He treated you like his kid, bossing you around, requesting you to dig through the shelves of bookstores to find the limited edition of Icha Icha that was recently published. But you did not quit being his subordinate. Kakashi had everything that you needed to harness, from his skills to knowledge, and you would never let such a golden opportunity go wasted.

Being with him for two long years brought you many benefits and visible improvements, one of them being your patience. You were short-tempered and Kakashi was just the perfect tame to your boiling climate. The silver-haired veteran knew you were cantankerous on some days, like today, when you were having an involuntary sunbathing session, and would always be later than he usually would. Over the drenching months, you grew indifferent to his tardiness, adapted to his peculiar conscience of time, and no longer rambled when he arrived. He would come up with the most bizarre excuses to get away with it, and at first, you were furious about it, but you found them somewhat adorable now.

You smiled, wondering why you were recalling your moments with Kakashi when you were waiting for your date to come. You bit the inner side of your cheek when you realized your patience was running thin—it reminded you of your silver-haired senpai. Releasing a shaky breath, you calmed yourself down, assuring that you would apologize to the man that it was merely a misunderstanding with your parents that they signed you up for today. You rubbed the surface of the table with your fingers and let your thoughts carried you away at the moment, unconsciously drumming the rhythm of your favorite song—his favorite song that you grew accustomed to after years of the very special silver-haired occupying your day.

“You seem nervous.”

Your head perked at the unexpectedly familiar voice, “Kakashi-senpai?”

The silver-haired settled himself in the opposite seat with ease, “Good morning, Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?” You did not bother to greet him back properly due to the tremendous shock being registered into your system.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to… to,” you came to a halt, fumbling with the hem of your shirt when you found it impossible to continue. It was embarrassing.

“Blind date?” He questioned, quirking a brow.

Your cheeks heated up in modesty, unable to answer his beseech.

“That seems like a yes,” Kakashi leaned back, enjoying your flustered state, “I’m here for a blind date, too.”

“A what?”

“A blind date,” he repeated without failing to lose his composure.

It took you several seconds to comprehend the whole situation, then you shifted in your chair, propping your elbows onto the table to hide your blush, “This is such an… interesting encounter. But I won’t change my mind.”

You were fairly absolute with the plan to turn the whole thing down, despite whoever was your date, despite it being Kakashi Hatake. You did not want to risk the bond that took you so long to form with him and the trust that he enlisted you upon. You could not.

“I also came resolute,” he made a simple, yet down-to-earth statement. Kakashi caught your eyes and challenged, “What do you want to do after a coffee date?”

“No,” you jerked away, “what are you saying? Are you okay, senpai?”

“We’re on a date and you still call me senpai?”

“Look, we’re not going to do this, we can’t, Kakashi,” you tried to explain but to no avail.

The silver-haired smugly smiled, “Good, Kakashi sounds much nicer.”

“I’m not joking,” you cleared your throat and glared at him.

“Neither am I, Y/N. I mean it.”

Your lips fell apart as the coherence in your mind shattered into bits and pieces. Kakashi silently observed the fleeting expressions that you made, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you stuttered. You knew who Kakashi was and the tragedy of your occupation. The two of you did not deserve anyone’s love, for once that you held the chance of breaking their heart. You looked away from his eyes to conceal the wavering of your emotions, “I never thought about life in that way. I don’t need a man in my life, that’s what I’d like to believe. I don’t want anyone to feel battered when I’m gone.”

“I hate it to see those I love cry and mourn, too,” he mumbled. You listened attentively as though it was yourself confessing to the dark. Kakashi continued, “I only live for a certain amount of time but I have been constantly filling it with despair and loneliness. There were things that I want to do and people that I want to love, but because of my fear of hurting them, I didn’t. But after the massive loss that I’ve experienced, everything was different, I understood how painful regret actually is.”

Tears began to well in your eyes the more his words dropped. You balled your fists, blinking profusely to prevent the warm droplets from escaping. Kakashi noticed your quiet sobs, running his fingers over your trembling hands, loosening your grip, and interlacing your fingers with his. You released a heavy sigh and pulled both your hands back, wiping away your tears as quickly as when they fell and dampened the fabric of your jeans.

“You’re not at the bottom of agony when you lose someone important,” Kakashi breathed, “it’s when you feel empty after they’ve left and mourning on what you could’ve done when they were still with you.”

Your sobs eventually assuaged as you chewed on his words. The silver-haired distracted himself by stirring the liquid of his drink, but he was in no state to enjoy its taste. He already said everything he wanted to say, and the decision was now fully on your shoulders. But by your lack of response, he was sure that you did not see your relationship taking another form—the way that he wished. He abruptly stood up from his seat, fleeting on his feet, “Let’s forget about what’s happened. I mean I still respect you as my teammate, Y/N. Don’t forget our meeting tomorrow.”

“No-no, Kakashi-senpai, wait,” you moved, hastily shoving your hands in his direction, gripping his wrist like a vice. You hung your head low to avoid his investigating gaze as you spoke, “I do.”

His gears in his head turned, and Kakashi smiled with satisfaction, “You do what?”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest, so fast that you felt its rapid pumps in your throat. You stuttered out, voice growing quieter the more you expressed, “I-I want to go out with you, senpai—”

“Drop the ‘senpai’ already,” he playfully hissed and you grinned, certain that you just made the best choice of your life. Kakashi leaned down and rested his chin on your shoulder blade, snuggling his face into your neck, “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for letting me love you.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi

[primasveraas-writing]

“Kent v The Shitty Knee Itself”- Ted Lasso

A sort-of-sequel to "Kent v Linebacker," but this can still be read on its own. Part 2 of 3 of my fics about Roy Kent's shitty knee.

Part 1 // Accompanying AU

WORDS: 1649

XXX

Roy Kent is old as shit.

His daughter is a fucking toddler. His son is in preschool.

And he has fucking arthritis.

“What the fuck do you mean I’ve got fucking arthritis?” Roy Kent explodes at the doctor, who waits patiently for his outburst to finish. “I’m in my fucking forties! I’ve got two fucking babies at home! What the fuck am I supposed to do when my fucking daughter needs to piss and we’re all sprinting into the bathroom? I can’t fucking potty train on a shit leg.”

His wife rubs his shoulders comfortingly; the news is less surprising to Keeley, who gave a damn when the doctors mentioned arthritis could develop, and who is also extremely endeared by her husband’s priorities, which apparently lie very firmly with teaching their daughter to pee in the toilet.

Roy shouldn’t be shocked either; he’s had a limp for a long time now, and progressively worsening pain. He’s been elevating his leg whenever possible, to the point where Ted pulls chairs up for him or sits down first so Roy doesn’t feel awkward (on good days, Roy scowls at Ted and stays standing, but these occurrences are increasingly few and far between). It’s been a long time coming, and as much as the great Roy Kent hates to admit weakness, his shit knee is getting shittier.

Keeley had forced him to go to the doctor when Roy scooped up both their children, one in each arm, and proceeded to fall on the floor in a heap of small limbs and curses. He again made the case that he was fine, but there’s a limit on how much Tylenol one person can take in a day, and Roy’s exceeded that limit for weeks.

He walks like he’s on a hill, wobbling as he drags his right leg behind him. Keeley remarks on how uneven his gait is, and Lily, his precious fucking baby, demonstrates just how wonky Roy is by limping around too. It makes him laugh, but then his gaze meets Keeley’s, and he realizes there’s not much he can do aside from accept his fate and ask Dr. Patel why his knee is failing him (again, the fucking thing).

Arthritis. Fucking hell.

“The majority of your symptoms can be mitigated by limiting any strain on your leg. This includes walking, lifting, twisting, standing, stairs-”

“-breathing, blinking, fucking doing any shit worthwhile-”

“We can also prescribe medication, but given the amount of pain you reported, I think the best option to look at is a walking assistant.”

“What, like a cane?” Roy snorts. He feels Keeley still behind him, then he looks up at Dr. Patel, who’s gazing back at him, entirely serious.

“A fucking cane.”

“It’ll alleviate the weight on your leg. Ideally, you won’t need it every day, but it’ll make a difference when discomfort gets too high.”

“Fuck no.” Keeley squeezes his shoulder. “Fine. Fucking hell.”

-

It’s an adjustment. Roy walks back to their car, cane-less for the time being, limping, and imagines a cane in his hand. Imagines being able to straighten up, and not going to bed in fucking agony after a long day.

He also imagines showing up to the football club with a cane in his hand and Jaime fucking Tartt the fucking muppet smirking at him with his stupid fucking face, and he wants to turn around and tell Dr. Patel he’ll never use a fucking cane in his fucking life. Then he imagines having a stick to beat Jaime with when he’s being a prick, and Roy grins to himself at the thought.

That’s what he tells Keeley on the way home: he’s on the fence. That there’s a stigma he doesn’t want, that he remembers this the pitiful looks he received after his first injury and after surgery. It’s fucking bullshit, that he’d be looked at differently just because of a fucking rod in his hand, or because his stupid knee is fucked.

“Since when does Roy Kent care about what other people think of him? I mean really,” Keeley tells him, patting his thigh. “Everyone decent won’t bat an eye, and anyone who does is a prat.” She shrugs. “It’s a flawless system, really. Good way to sort people out.”

Roy grunts in agreement and drums his fingers on the door. He sighs, leaning his head back.

“What if I can’t keep up with Lily and Ollie? What the fuck am I supposed to do with little kids?”

“We’ll adapt,” Keeley promises, offering her hand. Roy takes it and presses it to his lips. “They already know they can’t run from you, or bowl into you at full speed-” Roy snorts at this. “-so now we tell ‘em that they gotta be patient.”

“They’re gonna be the most patient kids on the planet,” Roy muses, but his chest feels lighter. His wife is fucking amazing.

“They’re fucking perfect, they are. And besides- they don’t love you cause you can lift them or up throw them around or run around after them.” She squeezes his hand. “They love you ‘cause you’re you, Roy. You’re their dad.”

Roy nods silently. She’s right, as always. His heart is warm, much lighter against his ribs. “Thanks, babe,” he tells her, and Keeley beams at him.

-

They adapt. Roy remains in awe of the resilience of children- Lily and Oliver don’t give a damn that he uses a cane, except they quickly have to delineate that it’s not a toy, so Oliver doesn’t hit anyone with it, and so that Lily doesn’t hit Oliver with it. Because of this, Roy has to be careful not to threaten anyone at Richmond with his cane while his children are around. One day, his kids will learn to do as their dad says, not as he does, but for now, his babies swear and scowl, and pick up on every bad habit Roy shows them. It’s fucking adorable.

The first month is the hardest. Roy and Keeley decide to grant him some grace- he doesn’t have to do shit like garden or mow the lawn, or anything too strenuous. It’s uneven, in the beginning, and Roy goes to bed every night feeling like a shit husband for everything that’s unloaded on Keeley. They fight about it, eventually, and Roy apologizes to Keeley with tears in his eyes. They find a balance, which involves a chair in every room in their house and somebody hired to do the lawn. Their roles have shifted, but it’s a pattern he’s familiar with by now. He’s gone through so many major changes with Keeley: switching careers and marriage and injury and parenthood twice over. And using a cane isn’t any harder than having a newborn and a toddler, so they manage. After all, they’re unstoppable together.

Nobody on the team makes a comment on the cane, except Ted leaves sticky notes on it whenever Roy isn’t paying attention, and Roy wouldn’t mind so much if they weren’t positive fucking affirmations, the corny twat. Then the rest of the team follows suit, and they sign it and put stickers on it and all sorts of supportive shit, and Roy tells only one person this, but he kind of fucking likes it (against his better judgment, of course).

Commentators and the press are not nearly as kind. There’s any number of articles written about him and how old it makes the football world seem. Roy wants to fucking kill all of them, but Keeley reminds him that all the pricks have shown their true colors, and one day he finds a picture of a particularly insensitive reporter that has been utterly defiled and left out in the locker room. Roy tucks this away in a drawer in his office, and he’s almost nicer at practice that day.

Beard and Ted match his slower pace as they walk out to every match, which isn’t subtle even from the offset, but they don’t say anything about it and neither does Roy. He also realizes that he’s never the only one sitting in a group of his friends, even if it’s just him and Ted, or Keeley, or Rebecca, or Nate.

Yoga gets much harder, then he and the yoga moms spend a night researching yoga for people with shit legs, and yoga gets easier again. If they want to do a challenge night, Roy shifts into the role of yoga instructor, which he’s fucking great at, thank you, and so what if he gets to drink more wine because of it.

And his fucking knee feels better. His medication works, but the cane helps the most. Ted and Keeley had told him ever since his initial injury to be kind to himself, to rest when needed, and to not be a stupid stubborn prick about his health. This mindset turns out to have a few merits, and maybe it’s even a good habit he can teach his kids.

It says a lot about him, this cane that accompanies a man in his forties. He needs it because he was a professional footballer who injured himself preventing a goal in one last game. Who needed surgery cause his energetic maniac of a son ran into him. Whose wife told him to use it with pride, because he’s Roy fucking Kent and his family and friends love him so screw everyone else. Whose coach used it as a tool to force positivity onto Roy, whose team and kids decorated it with messages of love and smiley faces and the two worst signatures he’s ever seen (though he credits Oliver and Lily for trying). It’s a symbol of persistence, of the pain he’s endured, of those who rallied behind him.

Roy Kent. Married to Keeley Jones. Father of Oliver and Lily. Coach at Richmond AFC.

And he happens to use a cane.

[onebizarrekai]

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🌟 Isaac Beamer Versus the Supernatural - Written work

Often abbreviated to IBVS, in a town with not-so-normal kids who go to a not-so-normal high school, a social outcast and an eccentric popular boy who both secretly have supernatural powers accidentally become friends. A plot-heavy comedy that draws inspiration from shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Danny Phantom and Gravity Falls. Last updated June 20th 2023.

🔪 Kagehara Cinematic Universe - Written works, mostly

An incredibly niche fic series where I rip apart everyone’s derogatory favorite Danganronpa V3-inspired fan character, featuring lucid dreams, existential crises, depression and kissing your idiot hot inner demon. The character list has increased significantly since it started, featuring counterparts for other V3 characters as well. Last updated August 2022.

🗡 Dreamswap - Open Setting, No Ongoing Story

An ‘AU’ based on the UTMV outcodes. It originally got its name from being centered around Dream and Nightmare switching roles. Other characters have also switched roles in unique ways, but at this point, the swap thing is basically obsolete due to the convoluted nature of the lore. A comedy-heavy setting despite its themes. This was being adapted into a separate story called Fatal Flaws.

❤️  Greyscale - Comic (Hiatus)

An Undertale comic about two humans with drastically different ideas on how problems should be solved who end up in the Underground at the same time and have to work together to make their way through it. Hiatus since 2019. Any comebacks would be a complete rework.

🌙 Darkness Is Nicer Than It Seems - No Ongoing Story

Forced into heroism, Dark has been at odds with his power-hungry childhood companion Jet for an indefinite amount of time, but he decides that continuing to fight him is not worth it anymore. A Dreamtale alternate timeline. Its tag is #dintis.

❌  Meme Waker (Discontinued–Still Readable) - Comic

A parody of Zelda: Wind Waker featuring various Underverse characters as characters from the original game. Please note that the link may not work on mobile due to being set to a chronological tag. The last comic strip was in 2018.

🌓 Driftverse (Also Discontinued) - Comic

An interactive story dedicated to Nightmare and Dream, except they were combined into one person and they had no idea how. A post was released explaining the remainder of the story. The last comic strip was in 2019.

If you’re looking for some of my old works that are not on Ao3, feel free to check out the #fics tag. If you want anything older than what you can find in that tag, you will have to dig for them yourself.

There are other projects that I don’t talk much about online, if you can call them that. I may as well note that when I say private projects, I really just mean characters and stories that I brainstorm them occasionally and I don’t actively work on. If you see something not listed here, it’s probably one of those.

[corruptedconfessions]

Have to say scrolled through your entire blog and loved every piece of writing! Especially the Bakugou dragon and Kirishima ones. You definitely have a gift! ❤️ If possible I say original Yugioh is something you cover. Would it be possible to get head cannons of Yami Bakura with his darling? What kind of yandere would he be? If not still going to keep up on your writing regularly ☺️

Hnnn I had the biggest crush on all forms of Bakura as a kid. I’m 99% sure Bakura was the first character I read/wrote poly for since I couldn’t pick between them whoops

Also thank you so much for the kind words! <3 I appreciate your support!

This came out a little scatterbrained and all over the place rather than following a main thought, im sorry about that!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Yami Bakura would be an...interesting yandere for sure

-Sadistic to the max, very possessive. Honestly he’ll see his darling as more of a game, a treasure to be stolen and won than a partner or significant other. Though, with enough work you can worm your way into his heart and he’ll be softer (as soft as a being of darkness can be anyway, he probably thinks a human heart in a box is a romantic gift)

-His vessel Ryou would be a soft, sweet yandere, something that disgusts him. His past self a possessive protective yandere, something that still irritates him but less so. He can appreciate how his love for hording and hiding away his treasure didn’t leave him

-Yami Bakura is a mix of the dark sadistic tendencies of Zorc, and the possessive protective tendencies of his past life. Part of him doesn’t give a shit about you, sees you as a toy, something for his entertainment and nothing more, theres no attachment there. The other part of him is a little too attached to you. He sees you as his treasure to steal and hide away, he wont share it with anyone! He wont even let them see it. 

-I honestly see him probably falling for/getting attached to one of his hosts friends. You’d have to be a frequent in Ryou’s life to even get even a slightest hint of his attention, it’s ridiculously hard to pull his attention from his plot to kill the pharaoh and obtain the millennium items.

-But once you catch his interest there is no escape 

-Unlike Ryou who likes to hide in the ring, avoiding seeing what his spirit does, he is always watching everything around his little host, even if he doesn’t know it. He’ll study you, enraptured. His calculating personality mixed with that spiral of obsession will be a dangerous cocktail for you, one that you won’t be able to escape. Not that you’ll even know you have something you need to escape from, no, he moves too fast. 

-You’ll be kidnapped nearly immediately regardless of which side of him feels stronger towards you. He isn’t someone who likes to share, and he can’t have anyone catching on to his...interest in you and getting in the way. 

-He’ll lock you up probably in a cold dark warehouse somewhere, hidden away where no one else could ever hope to find you. Even Ryou won’t know how to get there. He’ll make sure that his host never even knows about him kidnapping you, or if he does find out it’s beaten into him what will happen if he ever speaks a word of you to someone else, or if he tries to help you. 

-Let’s get this straight, even though he may have a soft spot for you, he won’t be making things easy for you. The warehouse is, cold, wet, dark. He won’t make any attempts to make you more comfortable, you’ll probably be left shivering in whatever he kidnapped you in (Probably your pjs, he’d sneak in in the dead of night and snatch you up)

-He can never hold himself back from visiting you no matter how much he insists he’ll just forget about you there and leave you to rot. He’ll see you nearly everyday, bringing you food and games 

-He’ll force you to play game after game with him, tricking you over and over again. You’ll never win. He makes sure of it.

-You can’t say no to playing, he’ll hold necessities over you like rewards. Oh? You want to eat? Better play a round of duel monsters with him~ Though you’ll probably lose more than you’ve gained in the end...hope that food was worth it.

-Honestly how he responds to you will heavily rely on how you respond to him. He’s unpredictable, his mood towards you changing so rapidly that it’ll be impossible to learn how to use it to your advantage. 

-If you are louder, aggressive and violent with him he’ll respond in kind. His punishments, his ‘rewards’ for winning games will be more cruel and sadistic, he’ll get some kind of twisted glee from breaking you down, making you cry, watching as you lose hope. He’ll never fully break you, of course. At least not yet~

-A softer, more level headed darling will earn more favor from him as long as you keep him entertained. His punishments are more likely to be teasing, cruel taunts rather than ruthless torments. He’ll probably bring you nicer things, play with you a little more. Hell, he might even be nice/soft towards you every once and awhile.

-”Come now, darling~ Don’t tell me you’ve given up already? The game hasn’t even truly started yet!”

-It’s a strange thing, you find yourself getting attached to him, warmth spreading in your chest when his lips quirk up into a smirk when you start doing better at his little games, making him actually try instead of dragging you around the game, a pawn in his little game

-You’ll never win, but sometimes you get close, and you can’t help but feed off the thrill he feels when the game gets risky, both of your heartrates going up as you dance around the board. Both your strategies have adapted to know each other well, it’s almost always left to who can get the higher ground faster. You always find yourself just a turn or two too late. 

-The more you interest him, the nicer he’ll be. Suddenly the gruel that he use to drop to the floor infront of you, or make you earn by losing a game to him becomes treats. Tasty meals that were your favorites, or pastries and desserts that he shoves into your lap before stomping off. You’ll have to take this in stride, simply smiling and thanking him. If you question or poke at him about it he’s sure to snap and you’ll go back to the tasteless gruel

-Still, he’ll start showing up more often and just...hovering around. Sorting through his deck, carving his little figures...just existing in your space. If you watch closely you’ll see his gaze dragging over to you frequently, immediately looking away if he realizes you’ve noticed the starting. Strange...being so timid was out of character for him

-It will be a gradual thing, so slow you don’t even realize things have changed until you find yourself settled across his lap, playing with your hair as he stares down at your face with an unreadable expression. This...tenderness, quiet should unnerve you, it wasn’t like him. He was aggressive, loud, brash...violent. You shouldn’t be trusting him like this. Yet you still found yourself melting into his touch. Somehow, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. 

-That moment changes everything, as long as you play your cards right, behave and don’t set him off he’ll start bringing you things. You don’t ask where they come from, you ignore the bloodstains that sometimes comes on any furniture he brings you. You kiss his cheek and thank him. He smirks at you, grabbing your waist and tells you he thinks he deserves more than that after dragging that shit all the way out here.

-Any thoughts of using this new found power over him are gone, along with thoughts of asking him to let you go, or even trying to escape during the brief times where he leaves you alone for longer than a few hours. You are...content. As you can be. Maybe its Stockholm syndrome sinking in, the pure terror of seeing what he did to others that betrayed him, or the punishments that were beaten into your very core. It didn’t matter anyways, you were never going to escape

-When did this become your new normal?

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 25

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 25: Some have trouble adapting to home again. Some are gearing up for trouble they’re going to cause.

           By August of that year, Barney was locked away in the asylum. It happened so suddenly. Although he certainly hadn’t been himself since his last gunshot wound in the trenches, everyone had hoped that he would reacclimate as time went on. But his behavior only got worse. He was prone to violent outbursts that he didn’t even remember seconds after.

           Tommy and the rest of the 179th did their best to try and keep him calm and out of trouble. But there was only so much they could do. A few episodes at the Garrison was one thing. Harry could accept that the man was clearly out of his mind and not doing it on purpose. But the rest of the public world couldn’t understand.

           Barney was arrested a few times. But his was committed after he bit a cop and tried to escape jail. He was deemed insane soon after.

           Amelia knew Tommy took it very hard. They all did. These men who were parts of their lives were suddenly changed beyond a point of return. And there was nothing they could do about it. They couldn’t visit Barney and they couldn’t get Danny’s fits under control either.

           Rosie was at her wit's end and relied heavily on support from Amelia. Consequently, this allowed Tommy to slip back into his habits of working all hours of the day.

           Amelia noticed this a few months in, but she wasn’t sure what to say. Before the war, she had no problem laying into him about working himself to death. But after? Well, she didn’t know what to even say. She felt guilty about being strict about anything. In her mind, he had been through enough. Why should she scold him on something that was small compared to the grand scheme of things?

           But she wasn’t blind either. Amelia was aware that he never slept more than a few hours at a time. She couldn’t find the warmth in his eyes anymore. He was less outspoken than before and had a habit of sitting in stony silence instead of speaking out. He was energetic with the kids, at least as much as he could be on the amount of sleep he was getting.

           Amelia was grateful for that. Although it hurt to know Tommy had changed so much, at least the kids wouldn’t realize.

~~~~~~~~~~

           Amelia went into the betting shop one sweltering afternoon to bring Tommy lunch. He hadn’t eaten that morning and had been absent during dinner the night before. But there was no sign of him. She went into Arthur’s office to see where he was.

           “He came in early this morning, was here before everyone else.” Her brother-in-law answered. “He left ‘bout an hour ago saying he would be back later.”            

           “He didn’t say where he would be?” Amelia asked, her concern growing.

           Arthur shook his head. “I asked but he never answered.”

           She chewed on her lip. “Okay…well.” She considered waiting but figured her nerves would get the better of her. “Here, you can have this.” She gave Arthur the lunch before leaving the shop.

~~~~~~~~~~

           Small Heath wasn’t particularly large, but that didn’t mean he was even there. He could’ve gone beyond the neighborhood. She started with Charlie’s Yard. That’s where Annie and Max were for the day. They were cranky inside because of the heat so she sent them to both Charlie for the morning.

           “Haven’t seen him,” Charlie said, sitting on a stool in the shade while he watched the kids. Curly was showing them a grasshopper he’d found in one of the horse stalls. The kids were so taken by the discovery that they didn’t even notice their mother arriving.

           “Do you know where he might’ve gone?” Amelia asked hopefully.

           “Whenever he’d get in a mood, he’d go to the graveyard to visit his mum,” Charlie replied. “I’d look there.”

           “Thank you,” Amelia said gratefully, hoping Tommy’s uncle was right.

           Across the yard, Annie squealed. The grasshopper had jumped out of Curly’s cupped hand and was on the loose. Max ran to try and catch it again. They were both so caught up in the summer fun, that she wasn’t going to interrupt it with her nerves.

           “I’ll be back to take them off your hands,” Amelia promised Charlie.

           “S’alright. They’re not hurting anyone.” He nodded before she went off toward the graveyard.

~~~~~~~~~~

           Charlie was right. Amelia found Tommy among the overgrown grass and crooked headstones. But he wasn’t standing in front of his mother’s grave. Hers was a few rows down. No, he was standing in the newer section in front of a newer plot.

           “Tom.” Amelia hated interrupting him while he was in deep thought, but she was just thankful she’d found him.

           He glanced over his shoulder. Without saying anything, he reached for her hand. She took it as she stood beside him. That’s when she noticed they were in front of Greta Jurossi’s grave.

           “When I got the letter from you, the one where you said she had died, I didn’t believe it.” He spoke in a quiet voice, just loud enough to hear over the sound of cicadas in the grass. “I dunno, I just thought she was going to be the one to upset the system. One of those historical figures that people talk about.”

           Amelia knew that he and Greta shared the same ideologies. Aspirations that she was afraid of but Greta wasn’t. He had respect for her.

           “I know.” She said gently. “She would come by sometimes to the shop. She and Polly would always get worked up about the rights of women and the working class.” She smiled weakly.

           Tommy nodded, his eyes staring into space. “You were right, though.”

           “About what?”

           “When you came back, I was telling you about the communist group. You didn’t think it was enough to change the world.” He recalled. “And you were right.”

           “Tom…”

           “You don’t have to say anything.” He shook his head. “There’s nothing more to say.”

           Young Tommy Shelby had so many dreams and a drive to change everything he saw as unjust. But the world had taken him in its fist and squeezed the convictions out of him. It had forced him into the mold of a soldier. Forced him to comply. Killed off Greta, killed her message.

           But Tommy wasn’t dead yet. There was a new fire lit inside of him. “Politics, laws, parties. It doesn’t matter. You can’t win if you play by their rules.”

           “So, what are you-”

           He began to walk back down the path, still holding her hand. “Everything will be alright.” He promised her. “You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The two went back to the Yard to bring the children home with them. Charlie was still taking refuge in the shade, smoking a pipe and watching Annie running around in the mud.

           “You found him then.” He commented as Amelia and Tommy came up to him.

           “Not a lot of places you can hide in Small Heath,” Tommy replied to his uncle.

           “I hope they weren’t a fuss, Charlie.” Amelia ignored her husband’s glib response.

           “I’ll tell you what, that boy of yours is just like you, Tom,” Charlie remarked. “Full of energy but once he’s around a horse, he’s quiet as a mouse.”

           “I’m sure you taught him well then.”

           “I didn’t teach him anything.” He shook his head. “Must be the Traveler blood in him.”  

           “He doesn’t have Traveler blood, Charlie,” Tommy muttered in reply.

           “Well, then it’s fucking intuition, hell if I know.” His uncle rolled his eyes, his pipe still tucked between his lips as he spoke.

           “Hell, if you know.” Tommy shook his head. “You better not have been teaching him that kind of fucking language.” He warned before heading toward the horse stalls to find Max.

           “That one has Traveler blood in her.” Charlie pointed his pipe toward Annie. The little girl had ruined her skirt by stomping around in the mud by the canal. She had a loose hold on her teddy bear that seemed just as filthy from the morning’s play.

           “You think?”

           “Reminds me of Pol when she was little. An absolute terror but you’d be happy to see her come around. Max will be a gifted rider, like Tom. But Annie won’t back down from a challenge, no matter how many times she’s bucked off.”

           The thought of her precious daughter being bucked off a horse was a nightmare to Amelia. But she knew that there was no forcing Annie into being someone she wasn’t. Amelia knew that all too well. Her family wanted her to be a lady of high society. They wanted her to be proper, educated but not too educated, and a million miles beyond Small Heath. But she was aware that she was a girl of lower class. Her upbringing was nothing compared to the socialites in London. She ran the streets with the Shelbys much to her parents’ discontent. And while she wasn’t as fierce and feisty as Tommy and Arthur, she didn’t mind living in Small Heath. She loved the people there.

           The more her parents pushed, the more she rebelled. In London, she felt empty. She had no friends because all the girls her age were boring to her. London felt cold and desolate to her. Sure, the place they lived in was nicer, but it didn’t matter.

           So, if Annie wanted to be a wild girl who flocked to dangerous horses, then there really wasn’t a thing Amelia could do about it. Not with Tommy’s blood in her.

~~~~~~~~~~

           “Not even half a year since he’s come back and you’re already up the duff, again.”

           Martha and Amelia snickered behind their hands. It was true. Martha was pregnant again and Polly was bewildered by the revelation.

           “Oh, Pol, it’s okay.” Amelia smiled. "It was bound to happen once John came back."

           “You and John are getting your own flat, or I'll get my own. I’ve had more than enough newborns in this house at one time.” Polly replied firmly.

           “I suppose that’s only fair.” Martha agreed. Six Watery Lane had become quite the den of rascals. “At least John is home and can help me with the other two."

           “And make sure he does. Those three have been working themselves to death.” Polly shook her head in disapproval. “And it’s all Tommy’s doing.” She glanced at Amelia.

           “I think they’re just trying to find their place in the world again.” Amelia shrugged. “Remember when they were gone? We had to adapt to the world. Now they do too.”

           Polly didn’t look convinced. “When a Shelby man is working like the devil, that means there’s going to be trouble.” She warned.

           It did speak to the conversation she and Tommy had earlier in the graveyard. “He did seem to have some plans.” She admitted. “But he didn’t say what.”

           Polly continued to smoke by the kitchen table where Amelia and Martha were sitting. “One can only guess what goes on in that head of his.”

           Amelia looked down at her lap. As his wife, she thought she would be the one to know. But she felt just as blind as the rest of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was a rare night, but one that Amelia rejoiced in having. After dinner, she got the kids washed up and put in bed. After Tommy kissed them each goodnight, he returned to the master bedroom and caught Amelia before she even made it to her vanity.

           Without a word, he kissed her deeply. He pressed her up against the door as he locked it to avoid any awkward situations if one of the children wandered in unannounced.

           It was so easy for Amelia to forget everything when Tommy held her. She could rejoice in the fact that in those brief moments, she was taken care of. There was nothing to interrupt them, nothing to cause them harm, it was just the two of them. They were the moments Amelia yearned for when he was in France. The moments where she could keep him close and cast aside the ugliness of the world.      

           But the feeling couldn’t last and they were brought back to Earth as the night wore on. Still, they enjoyed each other’s company in the dead hours of the night. Amelia curled up in the crook of his arm, tracing the new scars on his chest that he’d obtained in the trenches. He held her close as he smoked.

           Eventually, he broke the silence and uttered a rare confession to her. “I’m going to do bad things, Mel.”

           The admission sent a chill up her spine. Yet, it was something she already knew. Something she’d known even in childhood when adults would comment on Tommy’s proclivity for mischief. When they remarked how his father was nothing but a waste of space. When they speculated how Tommy would live up to the Shelby name. A name cursed.

           “I know.” She whispered. From then on, she was complicit. Her wish to stay in Small Heath as a child had brought her to that point. Her wishes for Tommy to stay out of danger had fallen upon deaf ears as she should’ve realized. But if she wanted a quiet, polite, bland husband, she would’ve stayed in London to marry one. Instead, she was with someone who was destined to be one of the most dangerous men in Britain.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @shelbyblinded @hanster1998 @xxbeckybeexx-blog @fairypitou

Masterpost 

PB Masterlist

[sistersofthelightforce]

Facing Facts: The Diplomat

He supposes it’s fair that Padme still is angry at him. Of all people, she probably has the most right to be.

After that first mission, things change a little. She doesn’t leave the moment he arrives in Luke or Ahsoka’s chambers.

“Anakin, just in time, I was about to put on some tea,” Ahsoka chirps. She bustles into the kitchen, leaving Anakin and Padme in the lounge together.

Normally, Padme would make excuses and leave, but today, she stays seated and gives him a small smile. “How are you today, General Skywalker?”

“I’m doing well, I guess.” Anakin rubs the back of his neck. “How are you?”

“Busy, but well. Trying to set up the New Republic from beyond the grave isn’t an easy task.” Her tone is casual, but Anakin feels like there is a bite to it.

The silence between the two of them is horrendous. Anakin feels frustrated. They used to be able to talk for hours, or spend equally as much time simply enjoying each other’s company. Now that bond is ruined, and Anakin-

Anakin is furious with himself for it. It’s all his fault, all because of his actions. He misses his wife, and he knows he’s going to have to work hard to even have a chance of her forgiveness.

The old Anakin would blame her, would be angry and insist none of this was his fault, that everyone should be nicer to him about it.

Now, he knows better.

(But he doesn’t understand until a lot later why Padme smiles so widely when Ahsoka comes in, curls up against Anakin and informs him, “you’re warm.”)

It’s not always good. Padme is under a lot of stress trying to help Queen Karee get everything under control. She seems very pressured, and Ahsoka often murmurs with her in soft Boona. (He knows the difference between Boona and Asna now. Boona is more flowing, and sounds quite elegant. Asna is more guttural, but just as beautiful in Anakin’s opinion.)

He supposes he was bound to misstep at one point.

It’s just an ordinary day when he bursts into Ahsoka’s chambers, only to find them silent, except for Padme.

Padme is sitting with tears running down her face, clutching a holo of a baby girl- Leia, he assumes.

“Padme?” He asks softly.

She whirls around to look at him, her distress growing.”You!”

Anakin isn’t sure what to do so he stays silent.

“This is all your fault! Everything is your fault!” Padme shrieks. “I missed everything! Their first words, their first smiles, their first steps! I didn’t get any of that! I didn’t get to raise them because of you!”

Oh. Oh no.

“You took everything from me! I finally get Ahsoka back and you’ve broken her. You kill her time after time and still she forgives you? You left her to rot on some Sith poodoohole!” Padme shouts, fists balling at her side. “How could you?”

“Padme I-” He begins, but she cuts him off.

“I know! I know you’re sorry! I know Palpatine manipulated you. He manipulated everyone! I was the one who put him in power for force’s sake! But that doesn’t excuse what you did. You can’t just come back here and expect everything to be fine!” Padme is sobbing now, anger radiating off of her in the force.

“I didn’t,” he says softly, not quite talking to her.

“You did! You did! And I get everything is fine with Ahsoka, and whatever the hell went on with Obi-Wan, you guys seem fine now. But we were married! We were married and I’ve spent the majority of the time I’ve known you trying to fight you, trying to clean up what you’ve destroyed!” Padme lets out an anguished sob. “We were married and you tried to kill me. You used the force to strangle me and you didn’t even think of what could have happened to the twins!”

Anakin doesn’t like to think about that day on Mustafar. He feels so guilty. “I should never have used violence upon anyone I care about. Especially my wife. That was the worst thing I could have done-”

“YOU MURDERED CHILDREN!” Padme shrieks. “YOU’VE DONE SO MANY AWFUL THINGS. AND NOW I’M NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO BE ANGRY AT YOU!”

Ahsoka comes in at this point. “Mom? Dad? What’s going on?”

“Everything was getting better.” Padme sounds so quiet, so broken. “Why did he have to come back?”

“Oh Mom.” Ahsoka sends a quick look to Anakin (he wonders, later, if it is to make sure he isn’t going to destroy anything), but he makes a gesture towards Padme, and Ahsoka wraps her arms around her mother. Padme murmurs brokenly into Ahsoka’s shoulder. “I know Mom, I know.”

Ahsoka comes after him later.

“I’m fine,” he says sharply.

“She’s been bottling it up for a while. She should have talked to you and processed it, she should have talked to one of us about it, but she didn’t,” Ahsoka explained.

“I deserved it, it’s fine,” Anakin replies firmly.

Ahsoka tucks her head against his shoulder. “It’s all so complicated. She’s right to be angry at you, I can’t be mad at her for that. But you’re still my dad, and I hate you guys fighting.”

Anakin nods. “It’s ok that she’s mad. It’s fair.” He presses a kiss to Ahsoka’s forehead. “I think I’ll leave her be for a bit. I’ll give you guys space for a couple weeks, then I might just give her space at family stuff. I think letting her cool off might be the best plan.”

“Like after senate debates.” Ahsoka laughs.

Anakin chuckles earnestly. “Just like after senate debates.”

So he spends the next two weeks avoiding Padme as much as possible, then at family nights, he sits away from her and tries to be as out of her way as possible.

Anakin decides the best way to get through this is just to spend time with his kids, so he goes to meet Ahsoka at the gym. He freezes when he sees Padme.

She’s sitting on the bench while Ahsoka practises with a training droid a distance away. His daughter slices through it with ease, then puts it back together with her magic and goes again.

Padme is on her holopad when Anakin sits down beside her. “You know, she’s always been good with those things,” he muses.

“She certainly has. Her lightsaber skills are among the best.” Padme looks up and smiles gently. “She had a good teacher.”

Anakin chuckles a little and sighs. “Look, Padme, I know that I’m probably the last person you want hanging around-”

“Can you blame me?” She interjects.

“No! That’s what I’m saying!” He says quickly. “I don’t blame you, you have every right to hate me. And I’m truly sorry. I’ve done horrible things, and I promise I’ll spend every day trying to make up for it.”

Padme’s eyes are calculating, then a dangerous grin appears on her face. “Spar with me.”

“What?!” Anakin replies, sure he’s heard her wrong.

“You heard me, General Skywalker. Spar with me, and if you even get close to beating me, maybe I’ll consider forgiving you,” Padme explains.

“I-um- if you’re sure.” Anakin gets up, and follows Padme to a space nearby.

Ahsoka looks over at them and sighs before grinning. “Ota.”

“Here, Obi-Wan always insists I carry a spare lightsaber. I’ll go easy on you.” Anakin passes her his spare blade, tone genuine. He doesn’t want to hurt or humiliate Padme.

Padme smirks. “Oh, I’m quite sure I’ll be fine, General Skywalker.’

Padme pulls out her own lightsaber, and the blade glows a deep purple, more blue than Master Windu’s magenta blade.

Ah. Alright then.

Padme swings and Anakin has to move quickly to block it. She strikes again and parries quickly.

Padme stays at his level, striking forcefully and blocking everything Anakin throws at him.

Padme is good. Better than good. She could beat some of the best in the order, Anakin thinks.

Her style is disciplined, but forceful. She moves quickly, and adapts just as fast. It’s not a style he recognises. He guesses she’s had some formal training, but has otherwise learned through experience. It makes her skilled though, possibly even more than him.

Soon the two are in a lock, blades pressed together, both of them gritting their teeth in effort.

Padme pushes his blade out the way, throwing off Anakin’s balance and his blade skitters to the side.

Anakin falls backward, and Padme has her blade at his chest, a triumphant smirk on her face.

“Alright, you win!” Anakin concedes, putting his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

Padme puts her lightsaber away and offers him her hand. He takes it, and she pulls him up.

“I’m going to guess you’re a Sister, aren’t you?” Anakin asks.

“One of the originals, just like Ahsoka,” Padme replies with a laugh.

Anakin looks over at his daughter, who is cackling. “Did you know about this?” He demands, but his tone is light.

“Of course she did. She helped teach me to use a lightsaber, Anakin,” Padme explains.

“Your face when she pulled out her lightsaber!” Ahsoka exclaims while laughing.

“Yeah, yeah. I should have known. Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” Anakin slings an arm around the still-snickering Ahsoka.

Padme gives him a fond look. “Sounds good to me. I could kill for some shurra fruit right now.”

He decides not to doubt that.

Iith has an official ball every year, and now the war is over, it appears people can afford to focus on it (much to its queen’s despair).

Padme obviously, as one of Iith’s top advisors, organises a great deal with it, and her eyes shine with pride on the night.

His children are happily talking to other people their age, others of a new generation of Jedi (and some of the old generation, in Ahsoka’s case).

He watches Ahsoka talking with the old apprentice of Master Billaba, Kanan, as he’s now called. He walks up and puts a hand on Ahsoka’s arm. “Hey kiddo, who’s this?”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes and smiles at him. “This is Kanan Jarrus, Sister Syndulla’s husband. Kanan, this is my father, Anakin Skywalker.”

Kanan looks at him with wide eyes and Anakin braces himself for the reaction he’s become quite used to getting. “General Skywalker. It’s an honour,” he says breathlessly.

Anakin almost has to steady himself. It’s been a very long time since anybody has reacted positively to meeting him. “Pleasure’s all mine. And please, call me Anakin.”

He chats with them for a bit, then he spots Padme being interrogated by some old lord. To anyone who knows her well, she looks horrendously annoyed at his questioning, but she seems to be keeping her cool.

He nudges Ahsoka through their bond, and she looks where he is looking out the corner of her eye.

“Hey Dad, maybe you should go rescue Mom,” she jokes.

“You’re right. See you round, Kanan.” He pats the starstruck man on the shoulder and walks over to where Padme is standing.

And suddenly he feels like that padawan again, baring his soul.

On reflection, the way he spoke on Naboo all that time ago back then was odd. He was just a kid and truly, he didn’t actually know Padme then, and he was way too forward about it. He’s glad it worked, but it was still weird.

He’ll do it right this time, if she still wants him.

“Sister Amidala, may I have the honour of a dance?” He shifts awkwardly, barely looking up at Padme.

When he does look, she seems relieved, in her diplomatic way. “I would be happy to oblige, General Skywalker.”

Anakin offers his hand, which she takes with all the grace of the Queen she once was.

She leads them both to the dance floor, and they slip easily into the dance, swaying side to side, and Anakin watches those around them stare. He decides he doesn’t care.

“Sorry for all that. He looked like he was being a sleemo so I thought I’d-” he stammers.

“Anakin. It’s fine. Thank you,” Padme says gently but firmly.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable this time. They sway, and he spins Padme, then almost falls backwards when he brings her back in. Padme very subtly uses the force to keep him balanced.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

Padme laughs softly. “You’re welcome.”

They get back into such a natural rhythm that it reminds him of the days in Padme’s apartment on Coruscant, where they’d play music and just dance the night away.

He supposes she must be thinking the same thing, because she rests her head on his shoulder, then starts back, remembering where they are.

“Hey-hey, it’s alright,” Anakin says quickly, as Padme looks horrified. “I don’t mind.”

“I- I just forgot,” Padme stammers. “I just-” she sighs. “Just because I’m angry at you doesn’t mean I don’t miss the time we spent together,” Padme admits.

“I miss it too,” Anakin confesses. “I did awful things. I’m trying to make it better. Our family-” he glances around at his kids, who, though scattered about the room, are all staring at them, “-are the most important thing to me. I’m so glad to finally have the chance to be with them.” He looks over at Obi-Wan, who is dancing with Satine. “I have my kids, and my brother, and I’ll do everything I can to fight for them.”

When he looks back at Padme, she is beaming. “It is good to be a family, finally, and not have to hide anything anymore.”

He meets her eyes, and smiles.

Kissing Padme feels like coming home.

—-

Ota- Mother/Mum (Boona)

[erikthedead]

entry #1

I have finally acquired Microsoft Word! I really didn’t want to pay a monthly subscription for it, but it is the best writing software out there. Every time I mention myself spending money, a small prayer goes out to all the tax-paying members of the nation, since all my money comes from Universal Credit, which is the United Kingdom’s cute name for a type of welfare money. I much prefer just calling it ‘welfare,’ or even better ‘NEETbux,’ which I discovered used in online forums as a word for the money people receive when they are not in education, employment, or training (N.E.E.T), which has been my status for about two years now. Then ‘bux’ is just ‘bucks,’ obviously. Bucks is just money, obviously. Many people receiving Universal Credit also work as well; they just receive less - enough to supplement their wages if they aren’t getting enough money from their jobs.  

My last job was working in a busy restaurant for just about a year. Before that I was in university, but I dropped out after only completing the first year out of three. Before that, I worked as a carer for elderly people for just under a year. Before that, I was in college for two years, and I actually passed the course. I only passed it because the subject was forensic science, which included lots of writing about psychology, criminology and lab reports. I was never that good in the lab practically. I got flustered and bewildered in such a bright, sanitary environment that required precision and organisation to achieve the desired results. When it came to scrambling together a report to submit the next day though, I was pretty golden. I only dropped out of university because I had a mental break down as a result of poor mental health and just the fact that going outside and interacting with people was and still is incredibly exhausting for me. After a year of doing that consistently it seems, I get fatigued. In the end I got an average grade for the college course because some of the work was difficult, or boring, and that fatigue was hitting me by the second year. However, the grades I was getting on my university assignments for psychology and sociology were anywhere between top marks and good marks (Between 1st – 2:2 in UK student language). I never once read the feedback from the tutors who marked my work. All I needed to know was the mark was okay and moved on to the next assignment, firstly because I was arrogant and secondly, I couldn’t handle criticism. The mental break down itself involved me walking through the campus one day only to find myself slipping into a dissociative state. Nothing had happened immediately prior to trigger this, it just happened. It felt strange, like I wasn’t really real, and neither was anyone else. Everything felt distant and off, both externally and internally. It was frightening and strangely peaceful, as if at any moment someone could come in and blow the building up and I wouldn’t even react to it. That wasn’t normal. The only way to snap out of it was to lock myself in a toilet cubicle and lightly slice my arm with a tiny knife I had on my keys. It worked, but now I was in floods of tears and a state of distress, so I went to the student welfare services to see if they could help me or at least let me sit somewhere nicer than a toilet while I calmed down. It was an open office waiting area at the side of the bottom floor of a building that matched the layout of a prison ward with the stairs and the upper floors creating a square boarder of classrooms, that would have been cells for a prison. More for practical purposes than for aesthetic reasons, I’m sure. Still sobbing, and hiding my self-inflicted cuts, I asked the person behind the desk if I could ‘see someone,’ which is one polite British way of asking for help. After waiting a little while, a plump middle-aged lady appeared and brought me into her own little private office to ask me what had happened. She gave me her sympathy and asked me about my life and my history, and gave me some more sympathy, while relating her own experiences to mine. She was a good counsellor, basically. But having a good counsellor on site wasn’t enough to keep me on the course after that incident. Getting a degree just wasn’t worth it at the time. Being such a depressed and pessimistic person, I was only actually doing the course for ‘fun’ anyway, not for the hope that it will bring me a better future. Until recently, I never saw a future for myself. It wasn’t even a bleak future I imagined; it was just blank. I couldn’t even conceptualise it.

It’s not a mystery where all my misery came from. My childhood was a bit inconsistent to start, and from what I’ve observed, children need consistency more than anything to develop promisingly. I remember reading a study once that found children raised by parents who were consistently abusive to them were in fact more mentally stable than those raised by parents who could be lovely one day and nasty the next. It was not knowing what treatment they were going to get that did them in. It makes sense because if you’re always expecting to face a thrashing or a shouting at every day, you can at least prepare for it and train yourself to deal with it. We’re very adaptable creatures, but we need to be able to recognise patterns around us to do that. If there is no pattern, then how can we possibly make predictions? Without predictions, how can we possibly feel secure about our future? Having said all that, I was never abused in any way growing up, but I was sometimes neglected by my young mother, who was only 16 when she gave birth to me. Of course, it’s understandable now, but from a child’s perspective all you think is ‘why doesn’t my mum want me?’ When she sends you to your room for no reason and tells you not to come down for hours at a time. I asked ‘why’ a lot. Never got a good reason. I’m sure plenty of people who were raised by a drug-addicted parent can relate to this. She herself was a good mother, not amazing, but good. She told me she loved plenty of times, she gave me what she could, including a little sister when I was three years old. I think it was shortly after her birth that mum started taking heroin. It was only during drug education in year five of school (I would have been about 11) that I put the pieces together. She hid her addiction pretty well from us, but I sometimes found pieces of tin foil lying around the living room with lines of black residue on them, and once or twice witnessed her junkie friends ‘nodding off.’ There’s also a clear memory in my mind of being taken along by her and my nan to score some brown out of town and I can picture in my head the massive set of old-fashioned scales this drug dealer had sat on his coffee table right in front of me. I was too young to understand any of their lingo, though. Yes, I mentioned my nan, my mum’s mum. They got smacked up together, and they eventually got clean together. I’ll never know the details of how that came about because neither of them are alive anymore to ask. Mum died when I was 14 by taking an overdose of her methadone, then nan died when was 21 of a heart attack, likely due to the COPD she had developed from years of smoking.

My nan was so full of love for my mum, my sister and me. Some of my favourite childhood memories are being snuggled up in bed listening to her read me stories, which she did with flare and enthusiasm. She would affectionately call us her ‘wobblies,’ and give us more hugs kisses than we ever wanted. My mum definitely inherited her loving nature from her. But love on its own isn’t enough to keep kids clothed and fed and able to go out and do things. This is where the legend that is my grandad comes in. He is still going strong at 66 years old as of writing. God knows where I’d be without him. He’s been my father figure all my life since I never knew who or where my real dad was. He’s hard-working, reliable, responsible and strong. He supported us immensely despite not relating to him biologically. My biological grandfather was a free-spirited busker who liked to smoke and drink a lot, who I only met a hand full of times before he hanged himself when I was 19. His death did not affect me, but my mum’s and nan’s certainly did. I’ll probably have to see my grandad die as well eventually, and I don’t dread anything more.

Although I started off describing my family background by saying it’s obvious where my source of misery comes from, I must emphasise that my family is not the source of my misery. My childhood overall was pretty forgettable. I only have a few memories and they’re fond memories, despite the unfortunate situation I just described. Even getting my face ripped open by the neighbour’s dog when I was six didn’t faze me. It was only when puberty hit me that life started to feel horrible, and it just got worse.

I was an early bloomer, if blooming is what you call it. I call it mutating. I started getting hairy and growing tits when I was 10, and got my period about a year later. Now THAT is a traumatic memory. Waking up and going for a morning wee as usual, sitting down on the toilet and being overcome with horror at the sight of blood covering my pyjamas, realising there’s only one place that could have come from, then investigating the source only to confirm ‘Oh shit, I’m bleeding from between my legs!’ I was living with my nan and grandad at the time and I stayed there (or here, since I’m still living in the same house as of writing) under their guardianship while mum sorted herself out. After the shocking discovery of blood, I immediately ran into nan’s bedroom to wake her up. I vividly remember what and how she responded to me. With a sigh of what seemed like unsettling disappointment she said “Oh, darling, I’m sorry, I’m afraid you’ve got your period.’  I wonder now if she said it like that because she felt guilty for not warning me about this, as she should have. Someone should have. In all fairness I was young, but the other kids in my year at school were soon popping into adolescence alongside me, so I thought that soon enough everyone else would be going through what I was going through, but that wasn’t the case. I was bullied for having chronic acne. I was also a bit of a chubby boffin, but it was mostly the acne that people targeted me for. The girls shaved their legs once they started to get hairy, and I remember thinking ‘Damn, I suppose I’ve got to do that too,’ despite never wearing a skirt. They also seemed to relish in showing off and comparing their bras in the changing rooms, while I hid away as very best as I could. Make-up was a constant battle between students and teachers because they all wanted to look pretty, but it wasn’t allowed in middle school (Year 5-8), so luckily, I had an excuse for not wearing it. I’d regularly complain to my family about hating going to school, and how depressed I was, but it was all put down to teenage blues. ‘You’ll be alright once your hormones settle down,’ I was told more than once.  I remember my nan telling me I would miss going to school when I was older and so far she’s been proven wrong.  

[kawaiijellymonster]

Dabi as an Inevitablity

I would like to start this miniature essay off with one statement, Dabi was inevitable. As we do au’s and redraws of what we think that Dabi/Touya would have looked like if he hadn’t become a villain I think that it’s important to know at least in the back so of our minds that Dabi unlike some of the other villains in the league, Dabi Was inevitable. 

I’ll start off by saying that I am writing this in conjunction with the Dabi Is A Todoroki theory and all of my analysis will be based off of manga and theories in relation to that.  

Dabi is a villain in the league of villains, one of his hallmarks is that he follows stains ideologies in the vein that he does not believe there is such thing as a true hero, that all heroes are fakes or hide some kind of dark secret that negates or nets out the good that they do as a hero. 

He also has very distinct scarring on his face, neck, and arms which connect to the rest of his skin via large silver/gray colored staples, his hair is black, and he wears a white shirt with a dark coat and dark toned pants. His quirk is cremation, a kind of fire that burns a bright blue and burns everything, his clothes are specially adapted so that they don’t burn when he uses them. 

Touya is the first son of the Pro Hero Endeavor, who is a flame hero. Touyas mother has a fire quirk, it is said that Touya’s flames were more powerful than his fathers (hotter), but also that he had his mother's cold constitution which resulted in his quirk hurting him frequently if he went past his limit. Touya had red hair and disappeared at some point in his teens shortly after Shouto was born. 

So if we assume that Touya is Dabi then we can immediately determine why he connects with Stains Ideology so well, his father, the 2nd ranked pro hero who was adored by many abused his family, forced him as touya to work so hard that his quirk burned him and left scars, isolated Shouto, and neglected Natsuou and Fuyumi. From the moment he was born he was shown that heroes could and would be abusive, crude, rude, and downright evil. Heroes could act like villains but get none of the repercussions. This is one of the things that causes Dabi to be inevitable, because for other villains in the league such as Shigaraki, he could have gone down the hero path had a hero picked him up vs One for All, if he had been shown a little bit of what heroes could be and if they had stepped in to save him at any point before One for All took the reigns, Shigaraki had every reason to become if not a hero then a normal citizen. But for Dabi, no matter what any other hero did he would always doubt them, wonder if that hero beat their kids too, if that hero would put their image before the people, if that hero was actually a villain, and he would spiral because heroes let him down from day one. 

His other Inevitability was his scars, many people like to draw touya as what he would look like if he wasn’t a villain and usually they omit his scars from the image but I’m here to tell you that no matter what he did in life, if he didn’t run away, if he didn’t become a villain, he still would have had those scars. Because they are a part of his quirk, if he used his quirk in any capacity it starts to burn him too, and it leaves those scars behind. Training with Endeavor? Scars. Teaching Shouto how to use his fire quirk in secret? Scars. Using his quirk in any capacity even similarly to how Bakugou used his randomly every day? Scars. The scars were the price he had to pay for having a quirk at all. So he would have gotten every scar, they weren’t just a disguise, an interesting way to alter his appearance, they were made in tears and bloodshed every time he used his quirk until he got used to the pain. We can see Dabi’s scars steaming at the edges sometimes when he uses his quirk and its because the cold constitution he got from his mother cannot handle his intense heat. 

Maybe Touya wouldn’t have dyed his hair, Maybe Touya wouldn’t have worn dark color palettes, Maybe Touya would have a nicer thing for his scars than staples. But, Touya wouldn’t have trusted or become a hero, Touya was always going to be a villain or at least a vigilante, because his upbringing taught him that heroes are just villains in disguise and he wants to make real actual societal change. And he would always have the scars the scars were there before he became a villain they will always be with him.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #457

Top Ten Masks in the Movies

It’s December! Yay! The year is nearly over! Although really it’s starting to look a bit nicer near the end isn’t it? Biden won, they’ve got a vaccine, and the second season of The Mandalorian is fantastic. As long as Trump doesn’t nuke Iran we might make it out unscathed.

Anyway, from here on in, until probably well into January, I’ll be doing my usual stock-check of the year and looking forward to what lies ahead. What were the defining moments of 2020? What did I love? I’ll be keeping it positive, and tyring not to go to deep into gallows humour (“None of my immediate family died of Covid!”). And, of course, one of the most defining aspects of 2020 was the fact that everyone – well, nice people, anyway – went round for half the year wearing a mask.

I don’t know if “celebrate” is the right word, but to commemorate, let’s say, the Year of the Mask I thought I’d look at some of the greatest masks in the world of cinema. Lots of folks in the flicks have worn masks; I mean, there’s a fair few Quinjet-loads of superheroes for a start. But even outside of Batman’s cowl or Superman’s, er, cowlick, we’ve got everything from the Lone Ranger to Hannibal Lector to well, The Man in the Iron Mask. For pretty much as long as there have been actors, Hollywood has enjoyed covering up their famous faces. So – with no further ado – here are my favourite masks in the movies. and, yeah, this is mostly about the masks themselves rather than characters, but obviously in a perfect case the two reinforce one another. Anyway, onto the bit.

Bane (The Dark Knight Rises, 2012): maybe it’s the voice more than anything, but the adaptation of the comic’s luchador mask, with a nod to the character’s intravenous drug use, gives us a supremely iconic face mask that is part rebreather, part disguise, part vicious maw. and remember – “No one cared who I was before I put on the mask…”

Immortan Joe (Mad Max: Fury Road, 2015): let’s just take a moment to remember Joe’s actor, Hugh Keays-Byrne, who sadly passed away recently. He gave us a supremely iconic character here, whose mask is almost Bane turned up to 11; vast tubular tendrils and enormous teeth. It’s demonic, like a satanic goat or something, as well as feeling pestilent and disgusting. Definitely not “MEDIOCRE”.

Darth Vader (Star Wars franchise, from 1977): I guess there’s no more iconic mask, is there? The samurai-inspired helmet design, the mouthplate that hints at his, ahem, respiratory issues, the visor like a pair of unseeing eyes… and all in threateningly shiny black. What more is there to say? It’s Darth Vader, for flip’s sake.

The Gimp (Pulp Fiction, 1994): frankly terrifying (and, er, of questionable taste), a heavyset S&M nightmare shackled to the ceiling. Who is he? Why is he there? What does he do? We can all imagine. A fantastic, surreal element exploding out of the entire “what-the-eff” sequence that occupies Pulp Fiction’s middle third. He looks great and his wide-eyed terror when Butch breaks free is a joy to behold.

RoboCop (RoboCop, 1987): I’ve always just loved RoboCop’s mask; that helmeted design, exposing the chin, with just a thing strip of visor covering the eyes. It’s redolent of an old constable helmet in a way, although I doubt that’s intentional. It’s robotic, sure, and futuristic, but there’s something about it that just screams cop. And when Murphy removes it, revealing his scarred and battered human face, it’s a significant moment, a breaking down of the oppressive machine he was made to be.

The Mask (The Mask, 1993): I love the wooden design of Loki’s mask before Stanley Ipkiss puts it on, and I love the rubbery design of the makeup Carrey wears as The Mask. Both just look cool. But it’s all Carrey’s performance, contorting his face like a CG effect when such fidelity was well beyond the limits of even a high-end blockbuster. He looks simultaneously real, unreal, and like a Dick Tracy villain; in a word, uncanny.

Zorro (The Mask of Zorro, 1998): just pipping The Dread Pirate Roberts to the post when discussing nondescript black bandanas, this is another all-time iconic look, but oh-so simple. The simplicity is part of its charm, of course; Zorro is a man of the people in a rustic environment, so elaborate masks would feel unreal. But it’s important to the narrative of the film, too, as Zorro is a revolutionary figure, but also a legacy character, Anthony Hopkins’ Don Diego de la Vega passing the mantle on to Antonio Banderas’ Alejandro Murrieta.

Ethan Hunt (Mission: Impossible franchise, from 1996): I’m using the word “iconic” a lot, I fear, but the Mission staple of full-face masks that mimic perfectly another character is up there with Tom Cruise running or being up really high. It’s one of the few spy gadgets they can pull out that still feels futuristic and impossible, even as the thought of 3D printing a fake face now isn’t quite as science fiction-y.

Black Widow (Captain America: The Winter Soldier, 2014): a subtler take on the Mission masks, this sees Natasha Romanoff adopt a disguise during the film’s climax, before pulling off her face in one nifty shot to reveal it to be some kind of thin holographic flannel that masks her identity. It’s a really cool scene, made all the more impressive as she kicks ass looking exactly like Jenny Agutter.

Douglas Quaid (Total Recall, 1990): “Two weeks! Two weeks!” Is this another cheat? A temporary disguise? A full-on helmet? I dunno, but let’s face it, this scene is hella cool. Quaid gets past customs by disguising himself as a lady, rumbled when his synthesised voice appears to fritz out, at which point her face slides apart to reveal the granite-esque visage of Sir Arnold of Schwarzenegger. Amazing! And then the woman’s head explodes. “Get ready for a surprise!”

Anyway, that was fun, but remember kids: wear your bloody mask! For Christ sake, there’s a plague on, you pack of bellends! Just put the mask on! Honestly! And when the vaccine comes around, take the frigging thing. Do it! DO IT NOW!

[charliedoyleloves]

2, 4 and 5 for your hs insert >:3cc!

No read more because I'm on mobile so y'all can suffer.

2. Does your insert have a very strong relationship with a f/o, maybe more than one? Tell us a little about the dynamic they have! This can be a bond that’s romantic, familial, or platonic, anything - even an enemy would count as a strong relationship!

Charlize has a strong connection with Dave and Dirk as adoptive brothers. The three of them will get together at least one evening a night just the three of them to complain about things. Sometimes you just need a cranky session with your family to get your head on straight. Often times the three will play games together and just hang out. They gifted Charlie their little circular shades as a way to claim them as their sister. They are harassed by their brothers for being the baby of the family, being born in August of 1996 conspired to the December of 1995.

Friendship wise, they have a decent foundation with most of the kids, but it is strongest with Roxy because of their shared interests in fantasy literature and costuming. The pair of them will make sure that the others are well dressed and geek out over the latest books. However, they are always willing to take John’s place in taste testing Jane’s baking. Goes to the range with Jake and Jade on a consistent basis.

Romantically, they are only involved with Sollux. The both of them had a minor rivalry that was severely unbalanced in games. He was far better but it was because of mechanic capabilities. While playfully roasting one another, they started talking nicer and nicer, and even started to seek out each other for a reprieve from other people. Didn’t realize they were dating for a solid three months before Charlie broke down and asked him to go out with them.

A psuedo alternate universe version of them (will get into it in a moment) is consistantly annoyed by Kankri in the dream bubbles and likes hanging out with Cronus because of their shared interest in music. They are “flushed" for him but unsure if he likes them back or just likes the idea of not being alone.

4. Does your insert have a backstory? Tell us about it! How does their backstory, if any, define who they are? How does it reflect their relationships now? Their hopes and dreams?

So, originally they were just a gaming kid who was one of the Sburb sessions in 2009. They hopped in with two of their friends, but they found that their session was not going to be complete because of a lack of a space and time player. So for a few years the three of them avoided the main questline if Sburb to figure out how to possibly merge with a timeline with the players they need.

An heir of void from a failing session with the required pieces reached out to the three of them, and using him, the space player, and the mechanical knowledge that my SI has been collecting they merged the sessions. Now with eight players total, they had the space and time players required and the other session had a hope player to counteract the rage player.

However, the session still failed as the rage mage got too far gone and killed the hope player, causing a chain reaction that left only my SI alive and stuck in a dead session that cant end.

However, in another timeline that was corrupted, Her Imerpial Condense had introduced herself to the people of Earth in the 1990s and had been working to stop Sburb from launching and undoing her empire.

In this timeline, my SiI grew up as I had, but with the added Sea Dwellers coming around to Halifax because of its status as a Port City. Because of it becoming a hot spot for the most powerful of the allies to humanity, it underwent an economic boom.

Now nearing 24 years old, they are confronted by an old friend who initially reached out to them when they were 17. He explains that those people who claimed to have had powers from an nonexistent game were telling the truth and he could prove I was one.

Meeting up with him (because hey man, he was paying for that), he uses his abilities as Heir of Void to take me to the technically now nonexistant space of the session and to meet my counterpart. As a maid of light, she was able to transfer her knowledge to me and asked for the favor of killing her. She had been alone for seven years and just wants it to end.

Doing so meant that the new version was able to gather their powers and now works with a resistance against the Condense, a group of both humans and trolls who remembered their time in Sburb/Sgrub.

The deceased version fo my SI was guided to the Dream Bubbles by the Heir of Void with a troll counter part of his’ instructions. He didn’t want her to be alone any longer, and being dead in that session just seemed like being alone for ever anyway.

5. Does your insert have any magical talents or otherwise special abilities? Are they passive, like the ability to befriend animals, or dangerous power that the villains want? Or if theyre evil - any powers the heroes want to stop?

As a Maid of light, they can create and distribute Knowledge, Fortune, and Light. Since that they only recently got their abilities, their non sburb body has to adapt back into the God Tier it was meant to be. However, whole they have troubles with manifesting luck and knowledge, they are quickly adapting to their skills of manifesting light, and by extension heat.

It’s not about not knowing how, as they remember their time in the other timeline, but rather fighting with the universe’s coding to let them do it. However, as Sburb tries fights against the Condense's changes, they are able to do larger and larger usages of their abilities.

However, not all of their most dangerous skills require that. They have learned that to put a piece of light into someone is deadly, as it disrupts the bodies natural heat. This is a skill they have used on a few missions.

[content-to-convert]

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR...

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR it just made him dress nicer 

By Pat Mellon 

Speaking of your brand evolving, PODCASTS are now a wise bullet to have in the arsenal of promotional weapons. In the early 2000's, for instance, you didn't have the option to record and distribute a PODCAST. The technology didn't exist to even IDENTIFY, much less create one- if you typed PODCAST into an email in 2002, it would have been flagged as a misspelling. 

But now, thanks to Audioblogging, re-branded as PODCASTING thanks to the iPOD, you can reach a targeted captive audience in a car on a long commute, with content that they've actually sought out. It's essentially a radio infomercial for the lifestyle of your product, without the PAID-PROGRAMMING aftertaste. Plenty of people have been slow to warm to the idea of such self-promotion and have waited to see if the technology and its effectiveness sustained or if it waned, the way QR codes did, or video discs did until the invention of the DVD. It can be an amazingly powerful part of your brand. 

Many rejected podcasting, as I did initially, as a waste of energy. In fairness, early on when there were no networks for podcasting and its business model was less focused than now, it smacked of self-congratulatory volunteer work. I saw it as an infringement on my profession. I have 15 years of radio hosting experience. I saw podcasts as competition. In my short-sighted view then, I didn't see the full potential of a podcast. I just saw it as people wanting my job. But as time went on, I began to see the ways, at least in terms of in-car entertainment, that podcasting was the future. And like the cryptic fortune cookie says, "Kill Your Darlings". Or maybe go with the less-confusing, "Reinvent Your Business Constantly. The End Goal May Be The Same But The Tools and Methods Evolve Constantly" which is a Ken Tucker quote I saw on a Snapple Cap. Or even the more direct, "You Have To Reinvent To Stay Fresh and In The Game" which Madonna said once. 

But early on, I saw it as the enemy - the way news journalists must have felt when FREELANCERS started getting a lot of the work in the late 90's. I thought, "If all you need to broadcast is a computer and an opinion, why the hell did I major in Broadcasting? It's like everyone becoming a Youtuber or a Social Media Influencer (seriously, that is NOT a good name. It's just saying what you're doing. It lacks creativity, like naming the glass thing you drink out of a "glass". Or the room with the bed a "bedroom". Or the thing you swing on a "swing". Or the... Sorry-I'll move on.) Anybody can become a Social Media Influencer these days, (and if they're under 14 and haven't been trying for half their lives then you might want to make sure they're breathing) and that means fame, sometimes money, but more important: LIKES. I overheard my 8 year-old playing with her friends and they were pretending there was a genie or something granting wishes and one girl asked for a pony, and another asked for a house of chocolate, and my daughter asked for a million LIKES on her video. LIKES are currency for pre-teen popularity. And LIKES or even merely PAGE VIEWS can be currency in the grown-up world of business. My point is that anyone with a computer and a camera can make money on Youtube if they hustle. It's simply the new normal. It's great, if not dangerous. We've yet to see the fallout of a generation raised on Youtubing, unless, of course, you count cautionary tales like Logan Paul or Jo Jo Siwa, both of whom are rich. It's simply another entertainment option for kids. I kinda thought podcasting was that, but for adults who only wanted quasi-fame; to show-off. But it's bigger than that.

If you're a plumber, for instance, and you want to maximize business, you probably want a decent social media footprint, some solid YELP reviews, and maybe even a podcast. Toilet clogged? Click here for an interview with master plumbers from all over. It's not the ONLY thing you should do. It's ONE of the things you should do.

On the consumer side, you have to realize that traffic, especially the bumper-to-bumper kind, is GOLD to a radio talk show host. People listen the most in their cars, so DJ's in New York and Los Angeles, the #1 and #2 radio markets depending on who you ask*, for instance, who entertain on the radio, are always on their toes to stay funny and relevant because it's so easy to push a button and change the station.

Then suddenly there was a new game in town. People were bypassing the radio altogether and plugging external sources into car sound systems, removing the commercials and unwanted Morning Zoo shenanigans, and rendering my entire college education and training void. My only hope was wishing death to the podcast movement, which I think I did a couple of times on the radio accompanied by a sound effect of a toilet flushing (Take THAT, Podcasting!). It didn't work. I kept hearing the word. Podcast. (eerie voice) PODD CAAAST! My head was in the sand. People would say to me, "you should do a podcast" and I'd cringe and wildly swing fists at imaginary ghosts who were accusing me of "Resting on your laurels" and "Holding on too tight.”

It took a while, but I get the appeal and, more importantly, the power of the Podcast. It's like a book-on-tape for the 21st century- 10 times as cool, though, because it's technologically relevant, and can be different every time you listen. So we agree that podcasts are real. And we acknowledge that there is room for many things on the dashboard of a car, be them outlets, or additional buttons. And we agree that the the way we do business is always changing and we have to adapt to some degree. So why all the hub bub? Because we can't have an intelligent conversation about the delicate existence of Podcasts without talking about Shane Gillis, the comedian who was hired and fired by Saturday Night Live in the same week last year. We need to understand the power of what it was that torpedoed his streetcar (tune into Mixed Metaphors with Pat Mellon Tuesdays on The Podd Couple, right after Poddamnit at 8, and Pod of Thunder with Gene Simmons at 8:17) He and a buddy do this show, this podcast, it's like a radio show but you don't listen to it on your grandpa's Victrola, you tether your MP3 player to the radio inside grandpa's Camry, and there's bad language, which there never is on traditional, boring old dumb talk radio, so right away, it's awesome (honestly, the only difference between Howard Stern on radio and Howard Stern on satellite is the F word) and the internet allows curses and take that, Mr. Suit and Tie, and this is going to be amazing. And on one particular show from 2018, Gillis said "chink" when describing someone in Chinatown. Not a huge scandal, but I guess you'd have to ask Roseanne Barr if the internet can get you into to any kind of trouble. She was exiled from the the entire US for a social media post that mentioned race and monkeys. And the same new normal that allows John Q. Anybody to do a podcast ALSO watches everything you do online and will sink you if it sees something it does not like. America can be confusing that way. Freedom of speech and freedom of complaining about freedom of speech are always at each other's throats, it seems. And you can't have it both ways. The guy who alerted the world to Bill Cosby's dating rituals online is loved by many but is also shunned by others, but that guy knows what he did and he knows not to complain about the ones who, well, complain. It's the price you pay.

The point is, you need to constantly be hustling and using all of technology’s modern tools to get your product out (they’re not burning DVD’s anymore) and maybe one of those avenues is a podcast with salty language, and maybe that podcast exists among your body of work that clients can enjoy whenever they want.

But we live in a new age of retroactive outrage. Eddie Murphy was on SNL and is arguably the most talented person the show has produced. He did a stand-up special in which he explores “What if Mr. T were a Faggot?” It was inflammatory and it was insensitive and it was homophobic (though that buzzword was still a decade from conception) because the premise of the joke- the attribution of homosexual behavior to a big, strong, black man being marginalized as solely predatory sodomy - crossed the line. When I spell it out like that it looks horrible. But it’s a simple comedic device: assigning unlikely behavior to someone for comedic purposes. It’s the fish-out-of-water gag. It’s why we had Mork, and Alf, and Balkie from Perfect Strangers. It’s Freaky Friday. It’s why The Rock playing a babysitter or a tooth fairy is funny. Murphy did this AFTER he was on SNL. But if has been released before he auditioned, do you think he’d have been hired? 

  Of course he would have. Because the Mr. T thing was a small part of that special (though, I recall, an extremely quotable part) and the people who didn’t like or appreciate the language didn’t have the bionic megaphone of the internet so they could get their outrage all over your conscience. The point is that your podcast is a reflection of your brand. You have to weigh your desire to speak freely and loosely with your desire to keep the Cancel Culture at bay. At a MINIMUM, though, you should keep things clean for your clients, listeners, and most importantly, your potential customers. Shane Gillis missed out of being on SNL and fame, instead on infamy because he broke one of society's biggest rules:he said something controversial out loud. Granted, it was in bad taste, but if that were a crime half of us would be in jail. It's just important to remember that your language on a work-based podcast should be professional, which I realize cannot be defined easily, but maybe stay away from slang and cursing. Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD.

[aion-rsa]

Upcoming Movies in September 2020: Theaters, Streaming, and VOD

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Movies are back! Granted they never really left either, with Netflix, Amazon, Disney+, and others keeping us satiated with content these past five months. Still, the streamers are about to be reinforced for those willing to return to movie theaters: Major Hollywood blockbuster releases are coming, and limited rollouts are slowly making their way back into cinemas around the world.

For that reason, we’ve assembled a list of potential moviegoing experiences in September, whether on the big screen (please consider the risks of attending a theatrical screening) or at home via video on demand. It’s time for the popcorn to get popping.

Bill & Ted Face the Music

Now playing in theaters and VOD in the US (September 23 in the UK)

One of the biggest movies yet to eschew its intended theatrical window for a premium video on demand (PVOD) release is this most excellent adventure. It’s been 29 years since we last saw Alex Winter’s far out Ted or Keanu Reeves’ perpetually astonished Bill, yet it’s good to have both back in their legendary stoner roles. 

The fact they’re middle-aged and still having adventures through time and space, and against the visage of Death—he’s still cheating!—is pretty sweet. As is Keanu coming back to this role one Speed, three Matrixes, and nearly five John Wick chapters later. But this time they’ve got daughters (played by Samara Weaving and Brigette Lundy-Paine)… but rest assured, the children are as amused as their dads.

Tenet

Now playing in the UK (September 3 in the US)

Already playing in the UK, Tenet will be making its much vaunted North American debut in “select U.S. cities” in September. We’re still not entirely clear what that will look like, but hopefully it will be worth it for this mysterious and visually dazzling Christopher Nolan epic. 

Early reviews are in, and the majority promise Nolan’s most exciting use of IMAX spectacle to date, though even without spoilers, this one might be too big for its own good. Our own Rosie Fletcher describes it as Nolan’s long-whispered about James Bond movie meets Doctor Who…

The New Mutants

Now playing in the U.S. (September 4 UK)

Josh Boone’s journey into the X-Men universe has been pushed back so many times it almost feels like a mythical lost movie. So when it finally arrives in UK cinemas on Sept. 4 (it landed in the U.S. at the end of August) it might feel like a bizarre flashback to another era – namely that of 2017 when the main shoot took place. 

Maisie Williams, Anya Taylor-Joy, Charlie Heaton, Blu Hunt, and Henry Zaga star as five young mutants held in a sinister facility against their will. It’s been positioned as an action horror which in theory sounds pretty cool, though what the final cut will look like is anyone’s guess.

Mulan

September 4 (Disney+ with premium)

One day after Tenet makes its U.S. debut, Disney, and more specifically Disney+, offers a starkly different vision for the future of cinema with Mulan. Whereas Tenet will attempt to jumpstart moviegoing, Disney has pushed one of their biggest 2020 blockbusters exclusively to streaming in all markets featuring Disney+, including the U.S. and UK. That means if you want to see Niki Caro’s anticipated reimagining of the 1998 animated Disney movie, you are going to have to pay $30 on top of your Disney+ subscription to get a load of this bad boy on a new PVOD model.

Read more

Movies

Mulan and Tenet Show Competing Visions for Future of Movies

By David Crow

Movies

UK Cinemas Slam Disney After Mulan Streaming Announcement

By Kirsten Howard

Even so, the film’s need to step away from the 1998 version’s iconography—Chinese moviegoers generally dislike musicals—appears to offer an opportunity to make a modern 2020 epic that can stand on its own two feet.

I’m Thinking of Ending Things

September 4 (Netflix)

Charlie Kaufman does horror? Well, uh, maybe?! For his first Netflix original production, the idiosyncratic writer-director behind Synecdoche, New York, and the Being John Malkovich screenplay is adapting Iain Reid’s thriller novel, I’m Thinking of Ending Things. But Kaufman is expected to come at it from his singularly off-center perspective.

With a somber setup about a young woman (played by Wild Rose’s talented Jessie Buckley) going to meet the parents of her boyfriend (Jesse Plemons), the movie is actually about an unhappy lover planning to terminate her relationship. Yet when she meets Mom and Dad (Toni Collette and David Thewlis), things are going to get weirder, if not necessarily better for the relationship…

The Roads Not Taken

September 11 (UK)

Sally Potter’s wistful drama was nominated for the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival earlier in the year before the world went into lockdown. It follows Leo (Javier Bardem), a man with dementia, as he imagines different paths in life he might have taken, while his daughter Mollie tries to help him keep various appointments and struggles with decisions about her own future. A very personal study of mental illness, grief, and regret.

The Devil All the Time

September 16 (Netflix)

Southern fried noir might be the creepiest noir. With its rural and sunny backdrops, and a smiling Christian face, its pleasantries belie an evil heart. And Tom Holland of all people will be driving right to the dark center of it in The Devil All the Time, a new thriller by writer-director Antonio Campos. 

Ready to bow on Netflix this month, the all-star cast, which also includes Bill Skarsgård, Riley Keough, Sebastian Stan, and Robert Pattinson, as a fire and brimstone preacher no less, The Devil All the Time reimagines post-WWII Tennessee backwoods as a hotbed of corruption, hypocrisy, and murder. Sounds about right.

Antebellum

September 18 (U.S. Only)

Co-writers and directors Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz appear to have cracked the code in making one of fiction’s favorite fantasies terrifying. You know the type: From Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court to Midnight in Paris, some congenial fellow travels back to a point in history he loves and has an all-around splendid time. Now imagine that same scenario except the protagonist is a Black woman. And she’s sent to the Antebellum South on the eve of the Civil War. Scared yet?

It’s a disturbing premise that aims to put Antebellum in the same wheelhouse as recent horror movies that have tackled American racism head on, including Jordan Peele’s Get Out and Us. The movie stars the ever compelling Janelle Monáe as a 21st century author trapped inside a 19th century nightmare, and it’s one of the most intriguing setups of the year. It also will be available on VOD and in select theaters.

The King’s Man

September 18 (September 16 in the UK)

Kingsman: The Secret Service was one of the nicer surprises of 2015. A better Bond movie than that year’s Bond film, this Matthew Vaughn directed and Jane Goldman co-written spy adventure was both a satire and loving homage to 007 movies of the 1960s and ‘70s, with excessive swagger and style to boot. Unfortunately, Kingsman: The Golden Circle (2017) didn’t live up to its predecessor. It did, however, make enough money to spawn a prequel. Which brings us to The King’s Man.

As Disney/20th Century Studios’ latest release, this movie sees Vaughn return to the director’s chair as he travels back in time to World War I and the origins of the Kingsman secret service. With the same daffy style but now in period garb (it worked for Vaughn in X-Men: First Class), the prequel hopes to recapture the charm of the original. It certainly has a winning cast that includes Ralph Fiennes, Daniel Bruhl, Djimon Hounsou, and Gemma Arterton.

Kajillionaire

September 18 (October 9 in the UK)

One of the happy discoveries out of this year’s Sundance Film Festival, Focus Features’ Kajillionaire is a movie we’ve had our eye on for a while. The picture is writer-director Miranda July’s pleasant vision of criminality and heists being the stuff of family team-building. Take Evan Rachel Wood as Old Dolio. She’s an adult daughter whose depression has forced her to live at home with her small time crook parents. But Mom and Pop (Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) have a plan; they’ll incorporate their daughter in the next heist and bring her out of her funk. It’s a charming premise that won over almost every critic who saw it back in January.

The Nest

September 18 (U.S. Only)

Another apparent highlight out of Sundance this year, Sean Durkin’s The Nest presents itself as a foreboding drama. As the follow-up feature from the director of Martha Marcy May Marlene, the film intends to be an unsettling account of a wealthy marriage descending into Gaslight levels of manipulation. With Jude Law as the rich patriarch and Carrie Coon as his quietly suffering wife, a sudden move to the country reveals dark dimensions to their relationship and the brittleness of domesticity. If the buzz is to be believed, the wound up WASPy tension in this could strangle an elephant.

Enola Holmes

September 23 (Netflix)

Did you know Sherlock Holmes had a little sister? You’re about to thanks to some strong synergetic mojo going on at Netflix with Enola Holmes, a new mystery/adventure that stars The Witcher’s Henry Cavill as Sherlock, The Crown’s Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Holmes, and Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown as the eponymous Enola. That’s right, Eleven’s going to use her own English accent and play Sherlock’s kid sister. 

Often kept in her famous brother’s shadow, it is up to Enola to do him one better when she sets off to find their mysteriously vanished mother. In the process, she proves she’s a super-sleuth in her own right and brings to light a deadly conspiracy. The game’s afoot!

Misbehaviour

September 25 (Open in the UK)

A crowd-pleaser that debuted earlier in the year in the UK, Misbehaviour has all the markers of a charming dramedy with real world ramifications. In fact, it’s set during the events of the Miss World competition in 1970, a televised beauty pageant in London that was then the most-watched event on the planet. In this context, the Women’s Liberation Movement reached international acclaim by disrupting the proceedings, and a Woman of Color from Grenada became a contender for the Miss World title.

Director Philippa Lowthorpe (The Crown) reportedly explores these events to winning results with an ensemble of players that Keira Knightley and Jessie Buckley as lead activists, Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Jennifer Hosten (aka Miss Grenada), and Greg Kinnear at his greasiest as an aging Bob Hope.

Greenland

September 25 (U.S. Only)

Imagine this: A comet that is supposed to gently pass Earth by was misjudged by the science community, and instead a cataclysmic extinction level event occurs with comet fragments destroying parts of the world one action scene at a time! Yeah, in 2020 that sounds about right. It’s also the plot of Greenland, a new high-concept survivalist action movie starring Gerard Butler as a family man who, realizing Florida is gone and his home state is next, tries to save his wife (Morena Baccarin) and child by getting his family to the last place that may be spared: military bunkers in Greenland!

And you thought U.S. leadership was being ridiculous when it tried to buy the country a few years ago…

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