#jane x archer

[hikarielizabethbloom]

Look Jane/Guilford is the main ship and all of that...

But

Jane and Archer is THE SHIP

And they should explore it

[alexandrawiky]

Tags: Angst, Angst and Feels, Misunderstandings, Forbidden, Soulmates, Falling In Love

[mockingjayne12]

My Lady Jane BTS

[jbbarnesdeservesmore]

My Lady Jane and The Acolyte canceled in the same 24 hour span. No one talk to me

[perfectlyfinespacebacon]

my lady jane continuous rambles

spoilers!

part 1003 of me talking about my lady jane… but it took me watching an edit on tiktok sadly to see that there was something brewing with archer and jane??? I only saw them as like people who wanted the same goal and then also he kinda threw her out to the wolves at the end by not really wanting to help her BUT if there’s a season 2 (god willing) with jane wanting to continue to work towards the ethian uprising, jane and archer working together maybe closely… and jealous guildford????????

Gods, I need season 2. Amazon prime, you failed me with the wilds and panic… I need a win here

[justmeforeverlive]

Lady Jane was a great show to binge, so I decided to write a fic while I wait for a season 2 announcement. Janeford and one sided Archer/Jane

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Bad Latin

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Word Count: 3285

Summary: The night the guards raid the tavern in search of Archer and his Ethian pack, Jane accepts the rude man's offer (and Susannah's advice), fleeing out the side door. If they're caught, they'll have to be convincing. Good thing Jane's lust is no act.

They stare at one another through the treads of the staircase, Jane and Susannah. The man—the rude, attractive man secreted in here with her—tugs Jane back by her upper arm and Susannah lurches forward. Jane recalls a turned ankle, a day years ago when Susannah came to her sheepishly, limping after she’d put her foot wrong dismounting from a horse. It’s the same motion.

And then Susannah is leaning on the steps, candlelit face growing shadowy as she peers into Jane’s darkened alcove. Jane wrenches free of the man’s uncertain grip; who is he to hold her back? She thrusts her hands between the treads to grip Susannah’s fiercely.

“Come with me,” she blurts. Seeing Susannah now, alive and apparently unhurt, is almost as startling as watching her transfigure into a hawk and take flight. Jane’s concern for her friend’s life is far greater than the confusing sense of betrayal she experienced the moment she learned Susannah is Ethian, so she repeats her plea, “Come. Please, Susannah.”

Susannah’s expression of surprise at the sight of Jane deadens and she shakes her head.

The guards continue their rampage, smacking tankards off tables and smiles off the faces of the tavern’s unprepared patrons. The man at Jane’s back clearly decides the guards are coming a little too near, because he places an urgent hand on her waist and attempts to draw her deeper into the shadows. Jane shoves him off without looking in his direction. Her eyes are fixed on Susannah’s face, and she sees her glance between the two of them. Her expression briefly re-enlivens with the ghost of former times. There’s a faint smirk.

“Go on,” she says. “For me.”

Jane sighs impatiently. She is not going to abandon Susannah in order to mess around with that man. The thought of such a thing—of feelings that might make a woman like Esther find it impossible to keep to her own bed even with an inflamed vagina—may have been on Jane’s mind before, but guards and Ethians and the accompanying uproar make that all a bit complicated.

But there’s something more in Susannah’s eyes than a dare for Jane to go off and fuck a stranger. She means survive, Jane realizes. She means be smart and adaptable. While these aren’t exactly weaknesses for Jane, it’s true that her attempts at spontaneity usually fail. Her and Susannah’s short-lived escape proved that. Projects like her book of medicines testify to the opposite: with time, effort, and careful study, Jane is capable of incredible discoveries and achievements. Then again, it took so very little time for the whole thing to burn to ashes. Maybe meticulousness isn’t her strong suit either.

As Jane’s thoughts flow frantically, Susannah untangles their fingers.

“Get out of here,” she says. And, probably because Jane’s eyes continue to beg, she adds, “I’ll be fine,” before shoving away from the steps. She’s just glanced away from Jane when a guard claps his hand on her shoulder, spinning Susannah towards him for questioning.

Jane staggers back with a gasp caught somewhere in her throat. This time, when the man catches hold of her, taking up the hand Susannah so lately released, Jane doesn’t push him away. She matches his grip. When he throws the door open, she flees with him into the night.

There are more guards out here, guards carrying torches they swish around corners, scanning every likely hiding place.

“Can you run?” the man asks her, which is so insulting a question that Jane can only answer it with a look of disdain.

Wordlessly, they wait for the same thing, and when it comes—an opening where the path between their position and the woods clears—they sprint together across the hardpacked dirt, stumbling into the trees.

They crash through the undergrowth, but the ground is uneven and, away from the tavern, the light quickly fades. Their passage is clumsy enough to ensure they’ll be easily tracked, should they be pursued. And how far can they get, really? In darkness, with nothing, not even each other’s name?

The man seems to be coming to the same conclusion; he turns to Jane wearing a look of determination.

“We should hide in plain sight,” he suggests. More than suggests—he speaks the words like an edict (tosser). Lucky for him, Jane has already weighed the options and is ready to agree.

He keeps staring at her, dark eyes annoyingly compelling and distracting. As if there weren’t enough on her mind.

“Do you understand?” he checks.

Solemnly, she nods. She blinks to focus her thoughts. She remembers Susannah taking to the sky when escape over land became unviable.

“We have to climb a tree,” she says. Thick, sturdy branches. Concealing foliage. The perfect hiding place.

The man’s expression distorts as he openly scoffs at her.

“No,” he says. “It means kissing.”

“Kissing?”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“And then some, if we’re to be convincing as two people who wandered away from the tavern before all the excitement and became too caught up in one another to hear the commotion.”

The way he glances at her mouth makes it clear he will not find this a difficult role to play. With this look, and the dark, and the relative isolation, Jane is thinking, Why not? What harm? It seems as good a plan as any for waiting out the guards’ terrorization of the tavern, when she’ll be able to ditch this man and go looking for any trace of Susannah, any hint that tells Jane she is safe, or where Jane might find her. When she does, they’ll greet each other properly, then smile conspiratorially over the memory of that man in that tavern, and Jane will divulge her tale of sexual exploration and empowerment—

Until the man absolutely ruins it, snapping her out of her reunion fantasy with the words, “Wonderful. Get on your knees.”

“I beg your pardon,” Jane grits out. Her fists clench, and either because of that or the fire in her eyes, the man pauses in the middle of unbuckling his belt.

She feels just as affronted as she knows she must look—at his easy assumption, at the memory of the shape of the stable boy’s head beneath Susannah’s skirts back home.

Gallingly, the man seems to be able to read her mind. He spreads his hands defensively, even stomps his heel in what could be the reflexive way he summons attention (she is reminded of his lithe mounting of a tavern table). Or it’s simply petulance.

“I can’t very well get on mine,” he argues. “A woman caught receiving the sort of pleasure I could give would be highly suspicious. An unsuspicious woman gets on her knees.”

With a flick of his wrists, he points at the ground with both hands.

Before Jane can dispute his self-serving statements (which she would have to do blushing, helplessly curious), there is the crackle of sticks being trodden upon, underbrush brushed aside by the thudding passage of a person in heavy boots. A person who moves without hesitation, as though searching the forest around the tavern for fleeing Ethians. A guard.

Jane meets the man’s eyes with alarm. It’s clear he shares it. For perhaps the first time in her life, she takes a conscious step backward. Actually, a literal step backward, until her back is pressed against a wide trunk. The man steps forward, bows his face to hers. She expects him to move quickly, claim her mouth with rough, thoughtless passion. His unhurried intention surprises her.

In the chilling air, Jane feels their warm, mingled breath on her face. It’s as if there are bubbles in her blood, fizzing, making her light. Again, his eyes are on her mouth. She feels her own lids lower as her cheeks flush with desire. Their lips just meet in a first, teasing graze when the guard stomps into their hiding place.

Jane’s companion leans away from her with genuine reluctance, shifting his gaze to the intruder.

The scowling guard swiftly takes them in and gets right to it: “What’re you two doing?”

“What does it look like?” the man replies, his tone so lacking in sarcasm that the question comes across even more condescending. So, Jane thinks, he’s rude to everyone. She hopes it won’t cost them their lives, regretting that she threw her lot in with his by following him through the door.

“You know an Archer?” the guard demands, ignoring the response.

“Afraid I’m more familiar with knives.”

“You meet anyone unusual at the tavern tonight?”

“We weren’t even in the tavern.”

The guard narrows his eyes. This response disturbs his stream of questions. Hands down at her sides, Jane clutches nervously at tree bark.

“Really,” the guard says, the word hard and accusing, “because we’ve been interrogating people who say there was a poet who disappeared in the confusion.”

“Ah! He was drunk.” The man nods in apparent comprehension.

“Not his confusion, our confusion.”

“If you’re that confused, maybe you shouldn’t be interrogating people.”

Before this piece of wit can infuriate the guard, Jane interrupts.

“The general confusion,” she interprets. Her hands now itch to throttle the man, so she grips harder at the gritty bark. “We quite understand.”

But she is entirely ignored. Story of her fucking life.

“The poet was speaking Latin.” The guard squints distrustfully at the man. “Do you speak Latin?”

“Believe me,” Jane says brightly, “he cannot speak Latin.”

She covers the man’s mouth when he seems poised to try. There’s a mumble as he protests from behind her hand.

“What was that?” the guard asks sharply.

Jane beams. “I didn’t say anything.”

The man—bane of her existence that he has rapidly become—licks her palm and she instinctively lets go of his face.

“I said,” he says, “I’m better with tongues.” He has the nerve to shoot Jane a sultry, significant look. Her body has the nerve to respond to it. She feels the blooming heat, the racing heart. Almost instantly, the air between them is clouded by lust.

The guard breaks the spell with the blunt repetition of “Tongues?”

The man redirects his attention with obvious frustration.

“Speaking in tongues,” he clarifies. “Rather than Latin.”

“Though he rarely does as he’s enough of an idiot in English,” Jane jumps in helpfully.

The guard studies them with unguarded hostility.

“Anyone who’s being uncooperative will be dunked.”

The man swings his head to face Jane again.

“Fancy getting wet?”

Before she can quit trying to manage his unpredictable responses and take her turn at pure, unadulterated, incautious rudeness that could very well end with her drowning, the guard seems to decide he’s wasted enough time on the two of them.

“Never mind,” he says. “She’s no Ethian.” A jerk of his chin indicates Jane. “Such a state of agitation as she’s in now surely would’ve triggered the transformation.”

Jane scoffs at his total contempt for her, but he turns and walks off, back towards the tavern.

“You don’t suspect me of being Ethian?” the object of her combined lust and aggravation calls after him.

Too late, Jane elbows him hard to be quiet, but of course the guard turns.

“No,” he says.

“Might I ask why?”

“Some people’s evil. Some’s just irritating.”

With that succinct sentiment, the guard takes permanent leave of them.

“You’re a fool,” Jane says when they’re alone. Her voice is almost awed at his baffling recklessness. She slumps back against the tree with her arms crossed. “You could’ve gotten us killed.”

“You know an Ethian,” he counters, and his point is clear.

“You didn’t turn me in.”

“I still could.” A blatant lie, accompanied by a teasing look that holds no malice. She hates that she smiles. Hates how it encourages him—for he edges back towards her and tilts his chin invitingly. “Buy my silence?”

“How dare you.” Jane aims for severe and gets breathy. “I will not be blackmailed.”

In the time it takes her to blink once, she decides that, between the way he successfully (however foolhardy were his methods) got rid of the guard and the way he looks wrapped in shadows, the man is too alluring to merit her further resistance. Her smile widens as she declares, “I’m doing this for fun.”

His approach may be unexpectedly deliberate, but Jane left finesse back home with her finely chopped and gently ground herbs; in every sense, she throws herself at him, sealing their lips.

Following the force of their collision, the man winds his arms around her waist and returns her ardour. Then this is kissing, she thinks. Nice. The act addresses two urges at once: her lust and her need for him to shut up. It’s actually so nice that the sanctimoniousness of preserving her virginity up to this point falls away with near-physical relief. Why not? she thinks, over and over and over, changing the angle of her head, feeling the tongue that licked her palm steal enticingly behind her lower lip. The heat of his hands on her is a defence against the cooling night, their pressure a promise of the study he would like to make of her. What a change to experience something new that she doesn’t want to run from.

Jane grasps the back of his neck. When she kneads her strong fingers into his skin, he groans. A tingle races up her back because the look on his face when he draws slightly away from her says the noise surprised them both. It’s tempting, as he closes the distance again, nose delicately nudging hers, to take hold of that belt of his and bring his hips forward. Her skirts will flatten to make room. But she knows—from the experience of seeing if not doing—once a man’s member is involved, a woman’s pleasure is too often forgotten. If he’s going to respond like that to her fingers on his neck, stimulation of more private areas could cause the total collapse of his senses. And unless he has enough presence of mind to attend to her satisfaction, she’s not interested in getting senselessly fucked against a tree.

So, before their lips can meet, she gives his chest a shove, propelling him backward. Sweeping her hair aside, Jane crouches. She’s unlacing her boots when she thinks to glance up and check his reaction (she, perhaps, does not have all her wits about her either). He’s looking down at her, grinning expectantly.

“Oh, I’m not staying down here,” she explains. “Just don’t want to get dirt on your back.”

He doesn’t seem unhappy to have his expectations overturned, waiting while Jane lobs her boots aside. When she stands, he sinks, and she understands the look he gave her because it is quite something to see the knife-hurling, guard-abusing, tavern bard on his knees at her stocking feet. Lightly, he touches her ankle. Jane swallows and raises her foot to his shoulder, lightheaded when she presses down a little and he tenses to take the pressure, eyes locked on hers. His hand strokes up her calf, guiding her leg forward, and by the time he’s gripping the underside of her thigh, her foot indeed rests against his back.

With a wink and no further ado, he ducks under her skirts. Jane’s heart pounds, gallops, over the mystery of where his next touch might fall. It comes as his lips trailing up her thigh—light, over her stocking, but impossibly arousing with the barrier of her skirts between them, watched from above by naked stars.

Will it be worth not trying to stick with Susannah? Worth slinking away in the night rather than attempting to stand up for the people too drunk or belligerent to run from the guards? Stop it, Jane tells herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Survive so you can treat sickness and disease in the future. Survive so you can help people then.

The man’s mouth inches up to the crook of her hip, and then to another place no man has ever touched, certainly not with his lips. The tongue that licked her palm and teased inside her mouth delves into the cleft of her and Jane releases a shuddering cry. He bragged about the pleasure he could give her like this, did he not? What a tremendously arrogant thing to boast—and how tremendously elated she is to discover it wasn’t unfounded.

Gripping her thigh, he pulls her close and thrusts his face between her legs, his head completing a slow nod with every pass he gives her with his tongue. A mix of his saliva and her slick release soon seems to coat everything, everything that matters, everything he traces again and again while Jane trembles on one foot, her other leg clamped around him. She can hear the sounds he’s making, the muffled sounds of his own pleasure. She has a manic craving to clutch his hair (those lush, dark curls), but fears it would be too intimate. Instead, she grabs the back of his head through her skirts—for balance, for leverage, inexactly positioning him to rock herself across his tongue.

Apparently unwilling to submit entirely to her control, he makes her feel the edge of his teeth. Which only makes her emit a ragged moan. She doesn’t hear words, but his lips move and reshape themselves against her, and she wonders if she’s being spoken against, spoken into. She wonders—absently, as even these strange caresses of his mouth heighten her pleasure—if it’s Latin.

The back of Jane’s head is thrashing back and forth against the tree, her hair snagging on the bark, when the man takes her nude hips firmly in his grasp and laps at her mercilessly. His tongue burrows inside her, undulating there, before withdrawing so he can close his lips around the nub with which she has played on nights she had herself convinced a man would be of no use to her. Well. It appears that, like the winter a fleeting but highly contagious illness descended upon Bradgate House, she is not immune.

Jane’s back arches, her head scraping against the tree, as she cries out to the heavens. The blissful sensations begin where his mouth touches and streak through her like the shooting stars her dazed vision may only be imagining. It’s possible that she shivers into starlight herself. Her hips hitch and hitch against his face as her hands cradle the swathed base of his skull. This happens involuntarily and she doesn’t try to stop it.

When stars quit falling and the feeling ebbs and her hips finally slow, she’s gasping, feeling loose and tired like she’s been swimming or knocked over the head. With his help, her leg slides limply from the man’s shoulder. He emerges from beneath her skirts lingeringly wiping his mouth. He looks proud of himself. In Jane’s estimation, he should be.

Though the light cast by the tavern is very dim, it’s enough that the swelling in his breeches does not go unobserved once he stands before her. She stares at him for a minute in contemplation, but no, not her problem.

“Thanks,” Jane says simply, stepping back into her boots.

The man exhales a noise of disbelief.

“Thanks?” he echoes, hands on his hips.

Not wanting to give him false hope, she lifts her feet one at a time to tie her laces rather than crouching again. It nearly unbalances her to shrug while her fingers work, but she manages before planting her boots on the forest floor once more.

“Veni, vidi, vici,” she says. She cocks her head flirtatiously and adds, “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

[kaibutsushidousha]

As the No.1 Nagiko fan, do you have a list handy of all of her nicknames? Or non-nicknames, if anybody else got the Seimei treatment.

From debut

Fujimaru: Chan-Mas

Murasaki: Kaorucchi

Osakabehime: Kabe

Suzuka: Paisen

Medb: Medbcchi

Blackbeard: Kurohy

Georgius: Geogeo

From Paradise Lake

Nobunaga: Nobbu

Okita: Jayjay

Archer: Emi-yan

Kouyou: You-san

Odysseus: Odssan

From Heian

Kintoki: Kin-chan

Michinaga: Micchi

Seimei: Seimei-dono

From her first Interlude

Mandricardo: Ricacchi

Jane: Janjan

Mephistopheles: Mepphy

From Caren's Valentine

Cu (default and Alter): Lainnlainn

Ko-Gil: Corgi-kun

Kama: Kama-cho (means something close to "attention whore", which is why you can often find it translated as Krama Queen)

From Treasure Island

Bartholomew: Battho-chan

Majin: Altacchi

Rengoku: Rengo-chan

Goredolf: Goff-kun

Caenis: Cae-nyan changed to Cae-myon by request

Columbus: RotR (from Rider of the Resistance)

Achilles: Akky

Anastasia: Siacchi

Douman: Mambo-chan

da Vinci: Daviko

Tomoe: Moemoe or Moecchi

Corday: Cor-rin

Himiko: Mikonyan

Nemo: Nemonemo

Kiichi: Kiicchan

From her second interlude

Babbage: Babba-yan

Raikou: Riko-pin

From Kama's second interlude

Parvati: Parurun

Habetrot: Habe-nyan

From Bazett's Valentine's

Semiramis: Semi-rin

X Alter: Etsuko

Nero: Nerocchi

From Turtle Island

Con: Concon

From Eight Dog Chronicles

Izou: Daoka

From Arctic Summer World

Thrud: Thr-rin

Hildr: Hil-rin

Ortlinde: Or-rin

Lady Avalon: Lebanon

Gareth: Gare-pippi

Erice: Erissa

Yan Qing: Shinsin-san

Asclepius: Pius-kun

From Mystic Eyes Symphony

Eric the Bloodaxe: E-yan

From Nagasaki

Waver: Mellocchi-sensei, often shortened as Mello-sen

Hibiki: Hibikichi

Chikagi: Chika-chii

Smartphone: Martpho-yan

Kiyohime: Kiyohii

Otohime: Otohii

Umisachihiko: Sachii

Isora: Isobei

Siebold: Dr. Bolbol

From the 9th anniversary's real-life escape room

Amakusa: Makky

Ryouma: Mossan

Mash: Kouhai-chan

[legok9]

Friendship is Universal

Official Doctor Who x Star Trek poster by Dusty Abell

Top: Yasmin Khan, Kira Nerys, Clara Oswald, Spock, Amy Pond, Data, Rose Tyler, La'an Noonien Singh, Sarah Jane Smith, Bill Potts, William Riker, Cleveland Booker, Donna Noble

Middle: Jonathan Archer with Porthos, War Doctor, Eleventh Doctor, Sixth Doctor, the Guardian of Forever, the TARDIS, Fugitive Doctor, Eighth Doctor, First Doctor, Leonard McCoy, Beverly Crusher

Third Doctor with a tribble, Michael Burnham, Kathryn Janeway, James T. Kirk, Thirteenth Doctor, Christopher Pike, Philippa Georgiou, Fifth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Second Doctor, Benjamin Sisko, Twelfth Doctor

Fifteenth Doctor, K9, Jean-Luc Picard, Fourth Doctor

Bottom: Weeping Angel, Wirrn, Goblin, Khan Noonien Singh, Morbius, V5, Gorn, Beep the Meep, Cyberman, Maestro, Locutus of Borg, Vashta Nerada, Robot Yeti, Ood, Sil, Dalek, K1, Zygon, Kruge, Silent, Missy, Dukat, Ruk

The Seventh Doctor, Ninth Doctor, Fourteenth Doctor are conspicuously absent. Also disappointed that Voyager's Doctor didn't make the cut!

Bonus fact: Peter Capaldi auditioned to play Benjamin Sisko. Great to see them side by side.

[quotidianish]

TF2 x ATLA AU :3

Lore, close ups, and doodles underneath !

Scout, Pauling, and Ludwig are the main three- scout, who’s an (admittedly shitty) airbender but not the avatar, who ran away after his father left. Once spotted by fire nation soldiers, he is presumed to be the avatar- and scout basks in the glory of his false identity. Pauling- a studious, too serious for her own good, non-bender, who’s Medic’s student. She’s of the southern water tribe, treating medic like her paternal figure after the disappearance of her aunt. Medic is (unbeknownst to pauling and scout) a blood bender who was exiled for his practices. He doesn’t seem to care for anyone or anything, also being very jovial and cheery.

All Pauling and Scout know is that Ludwig was exiled from the northern water tribe then fled to the south for an undisclosed reason. Pauling never bothered to pry and the Scout was too intimidated to. Here the avatar cycle has indeed been broken. It’s up to a group of nine ragtag men and one mousy girl to defeat Gray Mann.

And the main three villains are soldier, demo, and sniper who're all fire nation folk. Sort of the team rocket; never truly competent enough to cause real damage, that or their hearts truly aren’t in it.

Soldier's a fire bender who specializes in jet propulsion and was kicked out of the army. He thinks if he steals back the avatar, they'll let him back in. A weapon since childhood, once a bully, always a bully, or so he’s heard.Character arc being the realization the fire nation army isn't worth fighting for. Surprisingly, he is very good with spirits, opposite to his best friend, Tavish, who despises them.

Demo’s just trying to impress his mum and be a good friend to the Soldier. People pleasing tendencies, that's his character arc. He's supposedly a non bender who's mighty good with swords; but underneath his inconspicuous-ish eye patch holds a combustion bending tattoo. Only Jane knows this. Well-versed in calligraphy.

Sniper is a 26 year old yuyan archer who was discharged for failing a mission while he was young. He joined the other two with the same goal as the Soldier. His yuyan archer tattoo still remains. He's a non bender with excellent aim, who grew up on the rural outskirts of the fire nation. His character arc is something about not adhering to expectations and learning who he's fighting for; a combination of the demoman and the soldier’s lessons.

Spy's a crusty airbender constantly sporting a mask to hide his tattoos, and knife. Nobody has a clue where he's from and he takes orders from whoever pays him best. His airbending tricks are so subtle, the public believes him to be a crafty nonbender. Usually said tricks are only invisibility and voice alteration. While not assassinating political figures he traverses the spirit world looking for his wife, a fellow air nomad, avoiding physical aging in brief sprints of time. He returns on a well paid mission to kill the “avatar,” which was presumably the scout. Little does he know, that weird whiteboy is just some lame airbender. Who’s also his son. His bad.

Engineers the metalbender; an art perfected by his ancestors and passed down in whispers to him. I haven't developed him much. He teaches the Scout what he knows while obscuring information on how he got that metal arm. Him and the Pyro have a shared love of blacksmithing. From an explosion, he thinks..

Pyro's a spirit probably. Nobody knows what he is. Where he’s from? Pyro. What’s his gender? Pyro. Guy who sets things on fire. Presumably human judging by his questionable use of what looks to be fire bending. And also the Spy's companion! They met in the spirit world. He and the Soldier form a close bond quite quickly thanks to their good graces with spirits (to Tavish’s immense dismay).

Heavy's an earth bender who continues to win in underground fights. Residing in ba sing se with his three sisters and elderly mother, scout pauling and medic meet him in an earth bender championship. Despite what his appearance suggests, his patience is unmatched, which is his greatest strength. He has near -perfect seismic sense. He and the Medic get on quite well, and after the fire lord has been struck down, form a duo in the ring, earning even more won championships.

[luminewhosthat]

I told the Moon about you ~~

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ loading...

(°°)～ | Rosa/Faiza/Saba/lumie | Feel free to call me anything u like, love <3 | She/her | enfp-t | Anime Enthusiast | obsessed with books, foods, drama, music, travelling and fictional men | Slytherin | Aaron warner's gf | Zhongli's osmanthus wine | Ninguang & beidou's third wheeler | #1 Kpop stan | #1 Grayson Hawthorne stan | Chilumi's secret lovechild | Mikasa's scarf | mentally an artist | physically a sufferer | emily, belly and eve hater | The neighborhood, Arctic Monkeys, SWIM, Chase Atlantic are <333 | FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEE PALESTINE WILL BE FREE 🍉🍉|

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Zionists, anti-Palestine, pedophiles, Religiophobic, sexists, minors.

(°°)～ Tags: #lumie rants; #anon ask; #mutuals ✨; #moots; #lumie thoughts; #tbr; #lumie replies; #rosieposie etc for now

(°°)～ I love these peoples ^_~ : @baboland @sophiesonlinediary @carmenpowerpuffgirl @riddles-n-games @never-enough-novels @sarcasmiclife @reyna-obsessed @hijabi-desi-bookworm @keqing15 @f4iry-bell @skeelly @bellatrick @swiftreader1989 @banilikesfictionalpeople @nqds @elif-in-wonderland @the2amshitposts @whokilledlizzygrant @delululands-blog @aria-1105 @ironchaosprincess @hawthornesbiggestfan @rosietrace @jamcarven @lyrakanefanatic @reminiscentreader @cockadoodledoooooll @untamedwind01 @hawthornesbiggestfan @laurel13swiftie @roses-r-red54330 @myfairkatiecat @art-of-fools @gracedepp

[mockingjayne12]

[disneyfemslash]

Disney Femslash week!

That’s right, a week to prompt, promote, and inspire f/f Disney works! A week to encourage the artists, editors, and writers to create and share their work. If you want to gush about your favorite pairs, or show off your take on how a pair would get together and work, now's the time!

The tag is #Disney femslash week

Running from Sunday March 10th - Saturday March 16th

Here are the prompts: each day has a prompt and an alternate prompt. Note you don’t have to use the prompts at all if you don’t like them or want to. They are there for those who would like a starting point or inspiration for a piece, but no one should feel obligated to use them. If you want to, neat if you want to create 7 pieces of your favorite ship with your favorite tropes also neat!

Day 1. Seasons/A New Relationship

Day 2. Colors/Music

Day 3. Fancharacters (Oc’s)/Marriage

Day 4. AU/Style Swap

Day 5. Adventure/Gifts

Day 6. Angst/Happily Ever After

Day 7. Free day/Dedicated to

Seasons: A date in spring time, holding hands and sharing a cup of tea in fall, a snowball fight in winter, or a pool party in summer, let’s see something seasonal!

A New Relationship: A first date, a first kiss, when they’re in the honeymoon phase, a first meeting where someone is struck by cupid’s bow. An early look at two people together, and the start of their love.

Colors: Maybe it’s a monochrome piece, or black and white with a single color. Maybe it’s about how the color of her eyes or her hair are so beautiful, or how the world seems brighter and more beautiful that they’ve met. Maybe it’s about how the memory of her colors day to day tasks, even now. Literal or metaphorical, let’s see some color.

Music: Two characters singing or playing instruments. A band AU, or a songfic. A first dance, or a playlist, or using a Disney song for a new ship, use music to inspire and shape a piece!

Fancharacters (OC’s): Whether it’s an OC who you ship with a character, or an fancharacter family for your ship, let’s see an a work that incorporates an OC.

Marriage: Ring out the wedding bells and get ready to cut the cake. Planning a wedding, an arranged marriage, a big bells and whistles affair, or a runaway bride. Your ship in their wedding best, a secret elopement, or a piece about your ship being happily married. What does marriage inspire?

AU: Now, practically all Disney femslash ships are AUs, but let’s see something more than X meets Y. Are they assassins? Superheroes? Is this an AU where people have wings, or are taking the roles in your favorite romcom?

Style Swap: Wearing each other’s threads, or swapped into a different style entirely. Maybe we’ll see Jane Porter in the captain’s uniform and Amelia the dress, or Tiana and Charlotte in avantgarde fashion. Maybe swap your ships into an art style, like art deco, or early rubber hose animation.

Adventure: Sometimes you fall in love right at home, at a dance, or in the neighborhood, but not this time. The clock is ticking, the sails are set and we have no time to rest. High seas, high stakes, your ship meets on or undertakes an adventure together.

Gifts: A birthday gift, an anniversary gift, or a just because gift? Tiana is a gifted cook making something, Ariel is a gifted singer, Merida is a gifted archer. The Madrigals have their gifts, and use them to impress someone. 

Angst: Is it unrequited love, a tragic end, or a bittersweet goodbye? Maybe it’s starcrossed love never to be, or true love cut short by fate, but no matter what there is at least a tinge of sadness at the end.

Happily Ever After: They finally get together, triumph, or spit out how they feel. Do they defeat the dragon, the sorcerer, they move in together, run a business, adopt a dog, or grow old? What’s the happily ever after?

Free Day: Go nuts, go wild.

Dedicated to: This isn’t a prompt so much as encouraging everyone to shout out their friends, fellows, and inspirations. Whose art got you into this all? Is there a friend you shout your concepts to and bounce ideas off? Who is always in your notes or giving you feedback?

[pearlypairings]

11-13 for the fic writer ask!

11. a WIP you’d like to finish someday

oh! two! I'm still working on in the Shade of Aurelias, but with all the chaos in my irl life, I haven't had the mental space to be working through a complex fantasy/period piece. WHICH SUCKS. I miss my magical hellcheer <3333 Annnnnd I had started a twin peaks x st crossover which has been on hiatus for some time. I actually do have a doc with an unfinished chapter in limbo, but the inspo hasn't been inspo-ing there.... I hope I get back in the groove someday! Because it was SO fun to have agent cooper in Hawkins:)

13. a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

oooo I recently dabbled in a fic for Star Trek Enterprise which was a great time!! I have another wip idea cooking... But I've also been thinking about the Amazon show My Lady Jane which I know I recced to you and I'm not sure if you liked it, but there's so much potential there for fic! especially since they canceled it😭😭 tbh I was thinking of a Jane x Archer slow burn bc they oddly had great chemistry....

[practically-an-x-man]

Was watching Multiverse of Madness with my dad last night and we got into a discussion about Marvel multiverse theories... and I actually came up with one that I think is pretty neat?? Not that I genuinely believe this is the direction they're going with things... But it would be cool.

Gwen Stacy and Kate Bishop are the same person.

Explanation for this idea under the cut.

Now I'm trying to figure out how best to articulate this thought, so bear with me if this sounds a little funny.

First of all, the obvious point is that they're both played by Hailee Steinfeld - Gwen in Spiderverse, Kate in Hawkeye. Now, the MCU is kind of inconsistent when it comes to actors playing characters across the multiverse (Benedict Cumberbatch is always Doctor Strange, but there are three different Spider-Men, things like that), and I know most of this media-wise is just fan service for the audience, but I think I've uncovered a little bit of logic behind it.

Characters with innate powers are always the same actor, characters who develop powers are not. AKA, Wong and Mordo and Strange are consistent because they have a natural affinity towards magic, Professor X is consistently Patrick Stewart because he's always a mutant (assuming the James McAvoy version is meant to "age into" Patrick Stewart), and Wanda falls alternatively into either of those camps depending on what version of her we're referring to (she's either a witch or a mutant, but has natural abilities either way). However, Spider-Man is given powers by the spider, not born with them, so it can be a different person/actor. Same thing with Mr. Fantastic (cosmic radiation), Captain Carter (supersoldier serum), Captain Marvel/Binary (more cosmic energy), and the others we see in MoM that already have variants in different movies. Different actors, since logically those powers could be given to anyone in the right circumstance. Black Bolt is an Inhuman, but doesn't have another film version we've seen, so he's not a problem.

Now, Hailee Steinfeld plays both Gwen and Kate - neither of which have innate abilities. Kate is a skilled archer but doesn't have superpowers, and Gwen was bitten by a radioactive spider like any other Spider-person. So her being played by the same actor makes things... interesting.

There is the hitch that these characters have completely different names, but the MCU has already changed up some characters' names while maintaining the same character (i.e. Mary Jane Watson becomes Michelle Jones), so I'm not particularly concerned about that little discrepancy. So what if Kate Bishop is the version of Gwen that could have become Spider-Woman, but didn't?

Now let's think about things age-wise: Kate Bishop and Tom Holland's Peter could have been the same age. Kate is 23 in Hawkeye, and Peter is meant to be roughly 18 at the end of No Way Home - but Peter Blipped and Kate didn't, which explains how she's five years older.

Two superheroes, who pre-Blip were the same age, who both live in New York... what if they were on the same school trip?

You know the one I'm meaning. We don't see it in the MCU's Peter Parker, but the story is always that he goes on a school trip, gets bitten by the spider, becomes Spider-Man. But if Kate was with him on the same trip... that means there are two versions of how this could go:

The MCU version: Peter gets bitten and becomes Spidey, while Kate/Gwen takes an interest in archery and becomes Hawkeye.

The Spiderverse version: Kate/Gwen is the one to get bitten, and Peter ends up becoming that universe's Lizard instead (notice that the MCU/Earth-616 doesn't have a Lizard of its own either...)

But they're the same person. Genetically, multiversally, the same. Kate Bishop could have become Spider-Woman, but she missed her opportunity and Peter was bitten instead. Kate Bishop is the MCU's equivalent of Gwen Stacy.

(disclaimer that yes I know they're completely different characters and the comics are nothing like the film/TV versions, I know that Gwen and Kate have different backstories and family lives and all that, I know that Hailee Steinfeld was just cast bc she's a talented and popular actor right now, this theory is just for fun and I'm not trying to claim it's actually something Marvel is planning)