#like ‘you young whippersnappers!’ or something

[vanilla-voyeur]

Gen Z has this surrealist humor that surpasses the Millennial lolrandom phase we had as teenagers. Yeah there are still some cringey lolrandom stuff. But Gen Z has refined this kind of surrealist observational humor of a parallel universe where The Persistence of Memory was a real historical tragedy that shaped their childhoods.

It's not random. It's honing in on something real and widely relatable that's fantastical and nobody has ever experienced. They look at stuff like that meme of the horse looking at the ocean and it taps into a core memory of something that never happened. I'm a little too old to fully get what's funny about it. But as an outside observer, I can still appreciate the craft.

#you can tell im not caught up with the hippity hoppity of the young whippersnappers by how friggin old my examples are #my inability to process gen z humor is mostly because for me to find something funny i need to know why its funny #thats a no-go for this stuff #part of the fun is that youll never truly fully know #its funny cus its so close to making sense but it still doesnt make sense #the funny part is like the forgotten lyrics to a song you still remember the tune of

[braxiatel]

I feel like we should I do something with the whole Impulse and Skizz inverted controls helicopter thing in terms of character backstory. They might have been in The War™️ if you want to get angsty about it, but honestly I just think they used to be lads. Bros. Young whippersnappers. Whatever you will. They were stunt pilots doing barrel rolls for shits and giggles. Playing helicopter chicken above the ocean. Doing stuff that absolutely should lose them their pilots license. Just getting incredibly silly with it.

#I know nothing about helicopter piloting #ImpulseSV #skizzleman #Hermitcraft #mcyt #imp and skizz #the void collection

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ahhh sorry I'm a tad blazed one more.one more

You don't have to but I totes wanna share this idea and if you like it I give it to you lol

Aemond/reader, reluctant lovers

Like they hate that they are attracted to each other but he's so addicted to her and she to him song for the inspooooo

Goodness me, your taste in music is something else lmao. There is no way I am listening to Ariana Grande. I Googled the lyrics and could make no sense of them. Is this what it feels like to be old? Do I not understand the music you whippersnappers are listening to anymore? ANYWAY, here's a reluctant lovers fic for you.

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1000

Her eyes light up as they settle on the tome she is searching for in the library; Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History. She has been visiting the library every day for the last month looking for this book. She is desperate to read it, but it’s never there; he always has it.

Excitement bubbles in her chest as she reaches up for the book, only for the feeling to be replaced by annoyed exasperation as long, nimble fingers beat her to it and grab it before she can.

She sighs, turning to face the tall Targaryen Prince. He is ever the infuriatingly perfect picture of regality as he stands there, a smirk tugging at his full lips. She longs to slap that stupid look off of his face.

“Aemond, I wanted to read that!” She protests.

“I was unaware that you could.” He says flatly.

She rolls her eyes at his obvious insult. “You have read that book already.”

“And I shall read it again.” Aemond replies, his mocking smirk never faltering.

Scoffing, she reaches to take it from him. “You only want it because I do!”

He lifts it from her reach, his right eye narrowing at her. “A bold accusation. What purpose could you possibly have for wanting to learn about dragons? You aren’t of Valyrian blood.”

She groans in frustration. It has always been this way ever since they were children. She cannot stand Aemond Targaryen. He is the bane of her existence and makes life as a ward of his house incredibly difficult.

They bicker at every opportunity. His compulsion to have the last word and know more than her on every conceivable subject drives her to the point of madness. It feels as though he seeks her out just to annoy her, constantly belittling her, insulting her intelligence and making a mockery of everything she does.

“Just give me the bloody book!” She finally snaps, losing her temper. She feels the flush of anger heat the skin of her cheeks.

Aemond’s expression remains unchanged. He turns from her, eye scanning the bookshelves before pulling out what he is looking for and offering it to her. “I believe this is perhaps better suited.”

She gasps as she reads the title, A Caution for Young Girls. It is infamous as one of the most debased works of carnal debauchery circulating throughout the Seven Kingdoms, of the lowest sort.

“How dare you!” She hisses, smacking the book out of Aemond’s hand and glaring at him.

He chuckles, gaze flickering to the floor where the book now lays, then back to her angry face. “Pick that up.”

“I shall do no such thing!”

“Openly defying the orders of a Prince.” He tuts. “Insolent wench.”

Furious, and without thinking, she lunges for him, ready to strike his cheek with her palm.

He captures her wrist easily, before she is able to make contact, yanking her body to his. Her surprised yelp is muffled by his mouth as he captures her lips with his. The kiss takes her by surprise, but what shocks her most is the intensity with which she finds herself returning his affection.

“Stupid girl.” He mutters against her lips, before forcing her backwards.

That is how she ends up with a leg wrapped around Aemond’s waist, as he drives his cock into her against the bookshelves in the library. It is frantic, the air of desperation thick between the two of them.

When it is over, he pulls out, composes himself and then leaves without a word. She is shocked and confused. That was the very last thing she had expected to happen. Irritation interrupts her astonished pondering when she realises he has taken the book she wanted with him. Bastard.

No further mention of their tryst is made by either of them, then a few days later she laughs at dinner as Aegon calls Aemond a pompous arse. Aemond has a few choice words for her later that evening and that is how she finds herself with her skirts bunched up over her hips and his head between her thighs, feasting on her cunt like she is his last meal. Once more they part as though nothing has transpired between the two of them.

A week later, Aemond passes a comment that her dress would be better suited to the Street of Silk and, following a heated exchange, she is on her knees as he thrusts into her mouth, spilling his seed down her throat.

The pattern continues over the coming weeks, passionate arguments followed by passionate coupling. Over time she finds herself less irritated by Aemond’s presence. She begins to wonder if perhaps they are finding excuses to annoy each other as a means to be intimate afterwards.

She ponders this as she lays in her bed, Aemond’s spend trickling out of her as he lounges beside her catching his breath; the post-coital recovery that has come about as the result of an argument she can no longer remember.

When he leans over the side of the bed, she expects him to begin dressing and leave without a word, much like he always does. She is surprised when he leans back, passing her the copy of Unnatural History that had started all of this in the first place.

“You can have this.” He says softly. “There is a part where Septon Barth describes how the children of the forest could speak with ravens and make them repeat their words. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Her eyes look at the book then up at his face, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Aemond, I don’t understand…what is this?” “A book.” He says simply.

She smacks his arm playfully, annoyed that she wants to laugh at his response rather than be angry with him for it.

“You know that is not what I meant.” She chides. “What is this between us? I thought you hated me, but you are behaving like the opposite.” “Hate is not the opposite of love.” He corrects her with a sense of smug satisfaction. “It is indifference, and I have never been indifferent towards you.”

Her breath catches in her throat, as her heart flutters. “Y-you love me?” She stammers.

Smirking, Aemond murmurs “Stupid girl.” before pulling her to him for a soft kiss.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen fan fiction #hotd fan fiction

[redemn]

what if i told you that arthur hates looking into the mirror .   that he dislikes any image of him in every way that counts .   that reflecting upon himself is a cruelly difficult task filled with distaste .   that when he stares at his own face ,   he can see the eyes of his father staring back at him ,   can see the man in the curve of his nose and his lower lip ,   and it always reminds him of the cruel things he was told as a child .   only a bit over a decade of his life ,   but a decade where he saw his father go on his crime sprees ,   get caught and thrown in jail multiple times , and then ultimately hanged in front of him .   his mother wasn't around for enough of his conscious life to shield him from that influence . and arthur did love his father . he loved him enough to take his words to heart , to miss him , to keep his hat on him at all times . so he carries it all with him now , everywhere .

and because of this revulsion of his childhood and the man he sees in himself ,   he's learned to be critical about himself ,   in ways that blend lyle's spiteful reminders and his own actions into the constant message in his mind .   something to the effect of :   " i don't fit into this world ,   i've always been doomed to make the same errors ,   i can't break the cycle ,   i was born without the capacity for good . "   if anyone tells him otherwise ,   it's very difficult for him to believe ( see : when sean says to arthur ,   "you're a great man ,   arthur morgan ,   the kind a young whippersnapper can really admire" arthur immediately breaks eye contact and tells him to shut up ,   because he doesn't believe a word of that tease ; when lenny tells arthur ,   "you're a good friend to me ,   arthur" and claps him on the shoulder ,   arthur immediately shrugs him off and tells him to shut up ). like mary said , there is a good man within him , but he is wrestling with a giant .

in spite of it ,   though ,   he follows his own moral compass ,   which he fully believes to be wrong … but that is much kinder than he gives himself credit for .   he maims ,   he kills ,   he threatens and steals .   but he also gives to the poor and the homeless ,   helps those he sees are in need .   he will never see these are wholly good actions on his part .   moreso he believes he makes these decisions as a "why not" sort of gesture .   not because he's a good man .   because who could ever think him good when he carries in his face a criminal father with such an ugly disposition ,   whose footsteps he's practically followed himself ?   …   even in spite of the mother who lingers in his cheekbones and who appears in his face when his eyes smile ?

#( ;; sorry i was thinking about it all week. ) #( ;; and had to get this out. ) #╰ ゜headcanon. * i'll fight forgiveness ; so suffer for my shame.

[cat-dragoness]

Reading Castle in the Air to out loud to my housemates (pt. 2/2)

Picking up in Chapter 14-ish:

The djinn: "He first ordered me to steal a certain moving castle belonging to a wizard in this land of Ingary."

Housemate #1: "Oh my. Howl is furious right now." Me: "Yes, yes he is."

The genie is afraid of heights! I had forgotten about that detail. I don't think the housemates picked up on it mwahaha.

(I'm actually a bit frustrated now, because I feel certain that it came up in HMC that Howl is afraid of heights, and now I can't find where that was.)

Also the carpet being so smug that Abdullah is complimenting it while the genie is just wailing irately over both heights and having to listen to Abdullah flatter the carpet is just… it's them. It's very obvious that it's them.

All right, time to finish the rest of the book in one night, because Stuff Is Happening now.

Lettie: *realizes that Midnight is Sophie*. The housemates: "What?!!"

The housemates: "But that means Howl is Whippersnapper!" Me: *actually stops reading for like three minutes laughing uncontrollably*

The housemates: "Oh no, Abdullah's going to try to help with the wards and stuff is going to go wrong."

Sophie: "I have no idea where Howl is." The housemates: "What?!"

The housemates: "Wait, Michael must be Whippersnapper!" Sophie: *immediately clarifies that Michael left before the djinn showed up*. The housemates: *audible confusion*

*magic mirrors show Morgan*. The housemates: "They had a baby?!"

It honestly is interesting, though, because technically the reader has no proof and no reason to assume that Sophie and Howl had a kid between HMC and Castle, aside from the starting assumption that Whippersnapper is in fact Midnight's kitten. I hadn't thought of it but I can see why the housemates got tripped up on that.

Sophie basically scolds the air into letting them breathe properly on the way up to the castle and it's such a Sophie thing to do. Also it reminds me of a post about some old rain-spell that was basically scolding the clouds and about that being a Sophie-esque thing and I need to find that post and reblog it.

Sophie and Howl both hate heights. This is deeply entertaining xD

Sophie's ongoing commentary on which parts of the castle used to be the bathroom, or the broom cupboard, or something else, is just too much fun. The housemates seem to think so as well :D

There is so much screaming in the last few chapters and it is so much fun to read aloud but also my voice is probably going to regret it tomorrow.

After Flower-in-the-Night convinces the djinns to send the cook and his dog to Valeria:

Both housemates: "Wait!"

Housemate #2: "It's Howl!"

Housemate #1: "What? No, it's the squid maker guy!"

(Housemate #2 just really wants Howl back. Frankly I don't blame her.)

"Abdullah thought the metal pulley noise Sophie used to make as Midnight was actually nicer than the noise she was making now." Housemate #2: *promptly starts imitating an angry cat*

Sophie: *talks the curtains into being soundproof*

And she thinks she's not a powerful witch? She basically can make anything true just by saying that it is true.

So, all of the relationships in this books are literally love at first sight, aside from the already established ones like Howl and Sophie. And that's a little… I need to not actually stop and think about that, because if I do I'll inevitably get frustrated about unrealistic relationships. So. Not thinking about that, the soldier/Justin and Beatrice are pretty cute, and I appreciate that, even in what's basically a "love at first sight" trope, they fell for each other's characters and not their appearances. It's refreshing.

The Princess of High Norland hires Jamal! *giggles in Has Read House of Many Ways*

Flower: "And how many young ladies have you kissed by now?" Housemates: "Of course her thoughts would be so simple."

Flower-in-the-Night is extremely dramatic. That is all I will say on that. But I kind of relate, honestly.

Jamal: *patting Abdullah on the head and calling him "good dog"*. The housemates: *dying laughing*

The climax has so much going on. If I thought HMC had a convoluted climax I was wrong. Castle is much more chaotic.

"Finally [Hasruel] folded his great wings and became a dog himself." The housemates die laughing, and I have to stop reading the book to catch my breath, because I barely got through that paragraph.

Just. The dog. Jamal's dog. We love him. He is an excellent dog, even if he bites everyone (because he bites everyone).

It's interesting to see Abdullah's progression from fully adhering to the manners of Zanzib, to the point where he kicks Jamal to shut him up without a second thought.

*not me pinching my nose to more accurately do Hasruel's lines after he gets his nose bitten*

The neices. I do not know what to do with the neices. I am kind of exasperated by them.

"I like them much better than princesses. Why didn't I collect fat ladies instead?" Okay, someone's going to come after me for this, but this is funny.

Sophie: "Hello. My name is Sophie Hatter. You stole my husband. Prepare to die."

Sophie is just on an entire vengeful streak after she gets un-cat-ified, and it's kind of hilarious.

Sophie: *mentions Howl*. The genie: *starts making a fuss*. The housemates: *audible screams of excitement*

It's Howl!!!

The housemates are just as "what, you didn't realize?" as Sophie is.

Housemate #2: "Man, Howl was a useless genie! Sophie must be furious with him, actively sabotaging his own rescue. Why is she not yelling at him?" Me: "First: this is Howl; what did you expect? Second: you think she's not going to yell at him? This is Sophie."

Howl, holding Morgan: "My word, he's ugly!" Both housemates: "Howl!"

But also I love how nonchalant he is about his kid. I mean, he knew Morgan existed. He probably knew who Sophie and Morgan were as soon as they showed up as Midnight and Whippersnapper. He's had time to get used to the idea. So now he's just casually holding a baby while confronting a djinn. Which I love, for whatever reason.

And now, yes, my dear housemates. Back when you realized the moving castle had been stolen and said that Howl must be furious, you were absolutely correct. Why did you think the genie wanted to ruin everyone's lives?

Howl: "Calcifer must be here somewhere." The housemates: *scream Calcifer's name right along with Howl (and me)*

The carpet: *moves*. Housemate #1's eyes turn to literal saucers because she realizes: "Of course! No wonder he only responded to flattery!"

Howl and Calcifer immediately start quarrelling and, I mean, they've been quarrelling the entire book. And it's hilarious.

*a ton of foreign ambassadors show up*. The housemates: "How did they get there?" Me: "Y'know, I actually don't know that one…"

"'Do you know me?' Howl asked. Abdullah bowed. 'At least as well as you know me.' 'That's what I was afraid of,' Howl said ruefully." Another grand moment of getting the housemates to crack up.

*the Sultan has a fifty-foot stake for Abdullah*. The housemates: "Oh, he increased it by ten feet!"

Housemates think Sophie's responsible for the ever-blooming bluebell wood at Abdullah and Flower's house. I'm inclined to agree.

In conclusion, the housemates were delighted by the book, and I was delighted by the entire experience of reading it out loud. We're going to start House of Many Ways now :D

Wait I almost forgot!

(You can't change my mind on this one)

#howl's moving castle #castle in the air #behold i exist #the horse and his boy

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello ! After searching for answers on my own but English not being my first language so I wasn’t sure of the tone, I’m at a loss so I’m here ! I’d like to find some nicknames that an older character calls a younger one but not as a cutesy way, more as teasy but at the same time not falling into being mean, stuff like "pipsqeak". If you have anything I’d be very happy ^^.

Non-Cutesy Nicknames for Younger Characters

I see where you're going with cute but not mean, so it's important to note that "pipsqueak" means "one who is small or insignificant," so it's mocking the young character's smaller size. Along those same lines would be: shrimp, squirt, half-pint, twerp, munchkin, sprout, small fry, junior, shortie, and whippersnapper. Also: Little Brother/Sister/Bro/Sis

General nicknames, which aren't size-related (but which are sometimes used snarkily toward other adults):

-- Kid -- Kiddo -- Bud/Buddy -- Pal -- Lad/Laddie/Lass/Lassie

More often than not based on the older character's first impression of the younger character due to appearance, behavior, actions, abilities, or situation.

For a young character who is/appears to be bossy, assertive, or a strong leader:

-- Chief -- Captain -- Boss -- Major -- General -- Commander -- Big Cheese -- Top Dog -- Kingpin -- Big Shot -- Big Wig -- Sheriff

For a young character who is/appears to be bold or high-spirited: -- Firecracker -- Tiger -- Sparky -- Spark Plug -- Turbo -- Fireball -- Flash For a young character who is/appears to be courageous/brave: -- Hero -- Braveheart -- Lionheart -- Dare Devil For a young character who is/appears to be a troublemaker:

-- Mischief -- Rascal -- Rebel -- Wildcat -- Menace -- Trouble

For a young person who is/appears to be tough, fierce, a fighter: -- Buster -- Bruiser -- Slugger -- Wrecker -- Chainsaw -- Hulk -- Spike For a young person who is/appears to be strong/athletic: -- Champ -- Slugger -- Sport -- Muscles For a young person with a strong ability or skill:

-- Ace -- Champ -- Genius -- Wizard -- Crackerjack -- Hotshot -- Maverick -- Superstar -- Whiz -- Hot Stuff -- Old Hand

Nicknames can also be based on other things about the young character, their situation, or how they met: Blue Eyes, Red (for a redhead), Chatterbox (talkative, or ironically for someone who's quiet), Apple Thief (they met when youngster was stealing an apple), NYC (the youngster came from New York), Dinner Plate (the initially alarmed youngster threw a dinner plate at them), Soda Pop (the youngster is wearing a Coca-Cola t-shirt)...

In other words, don't be afraid to brainstorm a bit and see if you can find something that is unique to the characters and situation.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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Visit my Master List of Top Posts

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[chopper-base]

Clones as things my friends have said (pt 14)

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

Jesse: is it reeeaaallllyyy a felony if I didn't get caught?

Dogma: just play the card. No one wants to hear your sorrows.

Tup: I'm interested in shirtless people-

Kix: I was dying happily but now I'm seconds away from stabbing myself with a kitchen knife to end my fucking suffering... or wrapping myself around a tree at 100mph-

Hardcase: I JUST WANNA FUCKIN MAKEOUT WITH SOMEONE HOT! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK???

Fives: In all honesty, I'm slightly horny, sick, and just in a overwhelming state of gay panic

Echo: I'm bi bi bi til the day I fuckin die

Hunter: As unlikely as it would seem, I am actually a law abiding citizen... to an extent-

Crosshair: Watch out. Short gremlins go for the kneecaps

Wrecker: Guess who almost got murdered!

Tech: Oh no no no, there is something seriously wrong with me. I didn't cry for an hour last night for nothin-

Cody: My secret is that I'm immortal and nothing can actually kill me

Boil: I’m don’t know if I should be terrified or turned on

Waxer: I can't kill him! I have way too much motive and a strong tie to him! If imma kill somebody, it's gotta be random. Hard to tie me to a murder that I have no connection to!

Honorable mentions from my gc that don't fit:

"you young whippersnappers with your metal trunks have no idea what it's like to deal with squirrels making a real estate market out of your insides."

"Who thought that it was a good idea to force AFAB people into a soul contract with Satan? Because I would like to personally boil their teeth and wear their skin."

#incorrect star wars quotes #incorrect star wars #incorrect clone wars quotes #incorrect clone wars #incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect bad batch #fives tcw #echo tcw #echo tbb #hardcase tcw #jesse tcw #kix tcw #rex tcw #cody tcw #hunter tbb #crosshair tbb #wrecker tbb #tech tbb #tup tcw #tbb #tcw #dogma tcw #boil tcw #waxer tcw

[spindaonateaspoon]

Hey there adults, do you want to talk about Homestuck without the young whippersnappers telling you what you can and cannot enjoy?

Do you want a Homestuck server that will not judge you for your rairpairs, headcanons, and problematic ships?

Do you want to discuss the intricacies of Homestuck without dancing around the fact that mature topics come up frequently and with varying levels of care?

Do you want to be cringe about Homestuck like it's 2012?

Then have I got the server for you!

Fruity Rumpus Asshole Penitentiary!*

Fruity Rumpus Asshole Penitentiary is an 18+ server that is welcome to proshippers, as long as you know how to content warn appropriately and don't mind that not everyone will be into what you're into! The server is modded by an experienced server mod, and more mods will be added if the size of the server calls for it! We're looking to make friends and be silly in a chill environment where everyone is comfortable to talk about whatever they enjoy. Familiarity with the comic up through Act 5 is encouraged but not necessary. This is also a spoiler friendly server, so watch out!

We've got canon gallivanting and general tomfoolery!

We've got debaucherous cavorting within and outside of canon!

We've got love and affection for the fantrolls you didn't have $10,000 to make canon in 2015!

We've got at least one person who REALLY wants to talk about Homestuck!

JOIN TODAY and you too can be a member of the most exclusive club advertising publicly on Tumblr!!!

*Title subject to change if someone thinks of something funnier

#homestuck #homestuck discord #spindastuck

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I am fully addicted to your fics and go feral whenever a new one is posted. Because of your writing I’ve firmly become a Shiggy/Hawks shipper. Headcannons for Shigadabihawks.

☾,∇, ൠ, ✿

Buddy, I'm so glad you like my work, but I feel immeasurable guilt over turning you into a shigahawks shipper when I never make content for them anymore 😔

☾ - sleep headcanon

As a group: Hawks is on one side with his wings wrapped around the other two, Dabi is in the middle, usually holding onto Hawks, Shigaraki is on the other side holding onto Dabi until he's sure that they're both asleep and then he gets up to do something else unless it's a rare night he's not suffering from insomnia.

Dabi: Has nightmares a lot, and is always tired, can fall asleep anywhere and even standing up if he feels safe enough

Hawks: Sleepy boy, when he has a day off he is washing his sheets, fluffing his pillows, and making sure his softest blanket is fresh from the dryer so that he can indulge in the Peak sleep experience

Shigaraki: What the fuck is sleep? No real reason, no nightmares even after remembering his past, he just doesn't sleep very much.

✿ - Sex headcanon

As a group: Dabi and Shigaraki like to work Hawks over together best, there's just a lot more they both can be doing with the addition of his wings, and Hawks will never admit it, but he loves being a pillow princess for them.

Dabi: Lost his virginity last of the three of them (the skin falling off and coma were contributing factors). Down for whatever, but does generally prefers AMAB anatomy because he has an oral fixation and loves getting his throat fucked (straps are fine but it's not as good)

Hawks: Thinks he has a low sex drive, but it's really mostly his baggage. He's been a sex symbol in Japan since he was 19 and he's been working as a spy doing honeytraps for a lot longer. He's so unimpressed with sex he's almost uninterested until he finds people that he actually clicks with and genuinely wants.

Shigaraki: Sex is a game and he is winning. Lol no, but he does engage with sex/kink as a form of entertainment. It's something fun to do that feels good, and it's one of the only times he gets to touch someone and they actually want that which helps settle something in his brain.

∇ - old age/aging headcanon

As a group: Hawks an Shigaraki mock Dabi for being an old man, Hawks calls Shigaraki whippersnapper, they are the same as they've always been, but their joints ache now and it looks like Hawks is going to have white hair too soon.

Dabi: did not think he was gonna make it this far and for a long time he's got even more self-destructive tendencies. Takes him deciding that he wants to stick around to see his nieces and nephews grow up before he decides to be a more mature adult. (If he's no longer a villain, he starts a program that can help teach quirk regulation to people like him who have unstable ones.)

Hawks: Also assumed he would die young. Retires from being a hero and focuses on making himself a little life of his own. Has a bakery he goes to for pastries, becomes the old man who feeds the birds, leaves his wings at home when he does those things so he can just be Keigo and not 'retired number two hero: Hawks'

Shigaraki: As he gets older he tries to find kids like him who need someone to take them in. Makes a home for them like AFO did for him (ideally without the ulterior motives). Just eventually the anger and the disgust fade and he is more interested in making sure no kids get abandoned because they're hard to deal with.

ൠ - random headcanon

As a group: One of the best days they've ever had together was the three of them just spending time together on a nice afternoon. They were just a tangle on the couch, Hawks napping, Dabi reading, and Shig playing one of his games. It was incredibly chill and lowkey and none of them will admit it, but for that afternoon they all wished they weren't heroes/villains because if they weren't then this could have just been their life together.

Dabi: Hates that he's always so hot because fluffy sweaters and stuff look so comfy, but he literally can't wear them without overheating.

Hawks: Every time he sees a birdfeeder he wonders. He's not a bird. But. But what would that taste like to him? This haunts him.

Shigaraki: He is the most ride or die person you will ever meet. Once he has imprinted on a person then he is going to make sure they're taken care of and happy. (This is a threat (: )

#tanco speaks #ask #asks #headcanon meme

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Aging

Keshet peered at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his chin just so until he could see the scales that crawled up his neck and over his jaw. Swaths of skin peeked between the black, brown eddies and swirls of vulnerability tucked between the encroaching plates. Were the patches between his scales smaller than they were before?

Maybe. He couldn't really tell. The spikes on his chin and the jut of his horns made it difficult to see his own neck, let alone try to examine it in detail. He dragged a finger along the narrow patch of exposed skin on the side of his throat, trying to judge if the rough edge of scales rubbed further in along the pad of his finger than it used to.

"Cut yourself while shaving?" a wry voice asked, and if Keshet really had been holding a razor, he would have slit his damned throat with how hard he jumped. He twisted to find Thancred standing in the doorway, hip cocked and arms crossed over his chest as he leaned in the frame. Laughter twinkled in his eyes as he watched Keshet's reaction, but he was polite enough not to comment.

Keshet grimaced at him. "Of course not. Do you think these scales are denser than they used to be?"

Thancred squinted at his neck, tilting his head and chewing on his lip for a long moment before offering an easy shrug. "I don't know. I'm not in the habit of staring at your neck."

"What about my horns? Do you think they're longer?"

"Uh, no? What's gotten into you? Did you find a grey hair or something?"

Thancred was not actually expecting the muttered, "Something like that," he received in response.

"Wait, really? How would you ever know, in all that hair?"

"Au Ra don't go grey," Keshet explained absentmindedly, poking at the caps on his horns. Was it just his imagination or were they more snug than they used to be? "Well, we do, but not as early as you do. But our scales and our horns never stop growing, so you can judge our age based on how much skin we still have exposed or by the length of our horns. Old Au Ra end up practically covered in scales, and their horns can get so long it causes health problems. Never been much of an issue among my people, since we don't usually make it to old age, but I've seen some of the elders of the other tribes, so I know what to look for."

"Uh...huh. And you're worried you're getting old all of a sudden?"

Keshet looked up from his own reflection long enough to frown at Thancred. "Not worried. Just... noticing. It's been no small number of years now since I came to Eorzea, but I'm only just now realizing how much that time has changed me. Inside and out."

Thancred's expression softened. "Ah. Well, if it makes you feel any better, you'll always be a young whippersnapper by my standards. Hell, I'm another 5 years older than you now than I was when we met! And unless you go spending all your free time on other shards without us, I don't think you're likely to catch up any time soon." Keshet chuckled, a paltry, half-hearted sound, but he didn't look quite as concerned as he had a moment ago, so Thancred counted it as a win. "But... if you ever want to talk, I'm here," he added gently.

"Thanks," Keshet said, offering him a half-smile. After a beat, the other corner of his mouth quirked up as well, and he grinned. "Besides, next to a bunch of white- and grey-haired cronies like you all, I'm bound to look like the youngest forever."

-

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

FIRST | PREV | NEXT

#ffxiv #au ra #wol #thancred waters #thancred #my writing #daily inconveniences #keshet dotharl #~k

[pastel-junkyard]

Bonaparta's other books?

I was watching episode 56 to help with my Nina meta (which is almost done) when I noticed just how many books Lipsky has on his shelves. All supposedly the works of Bonaparta.

Posts by Erich-Springer on other background details inspired me to look closer, as I haven't seen anyone else do it here, at least not on Tumblr.

Here are some images.

(Had to put it on ×0.25 speed to get this one.)

I don't speak Czech, but I did find a website that allowed me to search a word in multiple dictionaries without having to type it over and over. Link below in case you want to try:

Some of the titles repeat and have a different pen-name attached to it. Also, the versions vary in thickness, to the point where I wonder how the publishers have been bulking up such short stories (if the ones we know are anything to go by).

In no particular order, the ones I've found are:

Rukaviče Bohu (Glove of God) - Emil Šebe/Jakub Faroubek

Rukaviče = glove | Bohu = God, of God (same root as Bůh in Bůh Miru/The God of Peace)

The phrase Glove of God reminds me of a stop-motion film by beloved Czech director Jiři Trnka called The Hand (Ruka). In it, a large disembodied hand demands an artist to only make sculptures in its image -- its generally accepted to be an allegory for the Soviet government censorship of art. (Wonder if it's a reference?)

Datel Tomaś (Woodpecker Tomaś) - Emil Šebe

Datel = woodpecker

Tomaś was one of the names mentioned in The God of Peace and was quoted by Johan in the 511 tape.

Loupežnik a Tři Žaby (The Bandit and the Three Frogs) - Emil Šebe

Loupežnik = bandit, robber, highwayman

How very... prophetic, provided Bonaparta wrote it before the break-in.

This may explain why, in Nina's initial flashbacks upon seeing the sign, the three frogs each said, "Hey, welcome home." They may be a folklore motif in this version of Czechia.

Babička a Osamélý Pes (The Grandmother and the Lonely Dog) - Klaus Poppe

Maybe it's more like "Grandma" than "Grandmother".

The only dogs I recall in the series are 1) the one being kicked by its owner who was then beaten up by Reinhardt Dinger in Griesheim, and 2) Ludwig, the labrador/golden retriever that was getting on people's nerves in Rühenheim.

Nestasný Netopýr (The Unhappy Bat) - Emil Šebe

Nestasný = unhappy, unfortunate

Netopýr can also be vampire apparently? Bat is the meaning that came up more though.

Billy doesn't seem all that unhappy

Oblibený Netvor (Favourite Monster) - Jakub Faroubek/Klaus Poppe

Netvor = monster, beast, behemoth

I'm not exactly sure what this could mean.

There are others that I'm not as sure on:

Pan Král(?) a Tři Poddani - Emil Šebe/Klaus Poppe

Something like "Sir King/Prince and the Three Subordinates/Thralls". Not sure on the second word but it looks like it begins with K.

Ponozky, které chvéta letat - ???

"Socks which hurried away"?

Ponozka is a sock, ponozky is pair of socks.

Chlapec z Velkýma Ušima - Klaus Poppe

"The Boy with Big Ears"

Chlap seems to be slang for a young man, whippersnapper, lad.

The big ears thing does make me think of the surveillance state again.

So yeah, that's what I've got so far. If you can make out anything I missed, please share :-)

Edit: thank you to mzencute for helping with the last example - changed chlapuc to chlapec

#naoki urasawa's monster #franz bonaparta #jaromir lipsky #animal abuse mention #bit of a posting mood this week '^_^ #pastel's posts

[carewyncromwell]

"Although I'd like to join the crowd In their enthusiastic cloud, Try as I may, it doesn't last..."

x~x~x~x

Happy Halloween, all! In the past, I've drawn several pieces featuring my MC's as characters from some of my favorite animated movies, and in honor of that tradition, I decided this year I'd try my hand at Carewyn and Jacob's mum, Lane Cromwell, casting her as Sally from Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas!

My history with The Nightmare Before Christmas is a very long one. You young whippersnappers who weren't around when this movie came out might not know this, but when the film was first released, it was NOT the big marketing cash cow that it is now. On the contrary, it was a cult classic at best. Disney had so little faith in the project while it was in production that it was even put out under the Touchstone Pictures banner, rather than with its official company branding. The film's original theatrical trailer, as well, was not a great representation of the film we got, to the extent that when my mum saw it -- especially the scene of the kid pulling the head out of the box at the end -- she was so horrified that she declared there was no way her two-year-old daughter would ever watch something like that. Fortunately my father (who was both a bit younger and more avant-garde and nerdy in his media tastes) already knew Tim Burton for his previous works like Batman and Pee Wee's Big Adventure, and he persuaded Mum to give the movie a chance. Mum was still incredibly skeptical, but we still went to go see it as soon as it came out. And shockingly, not only did I fall in love with The Nightmare Before Christmas at once at the ripe old age of two, but both my dad AND my mum loved it too! And from that year on, it was a holiday staple in our family, one we watched and sang along to every single year without fail. It was The Nightmare Before Christmas that made Mum fall in love with the music of Danny Elfman, and even if she honestly isn't a big Tim Burton fan, she has enjoyed every soundtrack Elfman's ever written for Burton's films. So it was really wholesome for me to draw Lane -- a character partially inspired by my mother -- as our favorite ragdoll, Sally. Like Sally, Lane may be quiet and not as charismatic or dynamic around people as Jack, but she is sweet, sensible, and sharp as a whip, and she will do whatever she has to in order to be free.

Hope you're all well! Much love!! xoxo

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #lane cromwell #halloween #the nightmare before christmas #personal

[so-sures-blog]

All the ways Zoey says "I Love You."

"Multiples just means there's more Mike to love!"

Zoey loves Mike, even though ... he isn't always Mike. But that's okay, because she loves the different people who live in his mind just as much.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mike — Touch

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when, because it had crept up on me — Mike had crept up on me — and the love I had for him left me breathless. 

It hit me one day when Mike and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie that I didn’t really know when I fell in love with Mike.

I never forgot that moment on Total Drama, when Mike had held my hand, my heart beating faster than a hummingbird as he looked at me with his beseeching eyes as he told me the truth about him and his alters, about how he really liked me and how he didn’t want to lose me. 

I held his hand, my eyes soft and understanding as he told me somethings he’s never really told anyone before. I think what really shocked him was how I understood. I didn’t look confused or freaked out, I didn’t tell him to back off or slap him. 

I had merely laughed at how silly the situation was, because I really, really liked him and he really, really liked me and I had leaned into him telling him how much I loved oddballs. 

Maybe that’s why I fell for him, because he was so different. 

Mike was one of a kind. 

I love him. 

I’d do anything for Mike; as long as he’s here with me, as long as I can hold his hand and smile back at him, I’d go to the ends of the earth for Mike, and he’d do the same for me. 

I turned to look at Mike, who’s shoulder I’ve been using as a pillow during our movie and he turned to look at me with that cute grin of his. I smiled back, my thoughts slowing as our faces moved closer and closer, until our foreheads were touching. 

It was quick, only a short moment where I leaned over and pressed my lips against his, but it felt like all the love just rushed through my body in a single flash. I sighed against his lips, trying to emulate everything I felt through touch alone.

“I love you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chester — Acts of Service

I won’t lie — Chester was hard to talk to. 

Chester only came out when Mike was frustrated, so usually meant the old man would complain about whatever circumstances and groan about today’s youth whenever I would talk to him. 

However, I was determined to get through to the old man and actually get him to enjoy himself.  

“Are you having fun, Chester?” I asked as I struggled to secure a wriggling worm to my fishing pole. 

“Eh, fun is for the youth.” Chester swatted his hand irritably. “Back in my day, it was either work and survive or shrivel up and die. We didn’t have any time for this “fun” nonsense ‘cause we were always working so hard. You lazy youngsters are havin’ fun all the time ‘cause you ain’t workin’ as hard!”

I cringed, not sure how to respond to that, before I decided on optimism. “Well, you never know, you might have fun fishing! This was my grandfather’s favorite hobby when I was a kid.”

“And where’s your grandfather now? You dump him in an old folk’s home?” 

I went quiet, staring at the hook and worm in my hands. “No. He— he died. When I was a kid.”

Chester, fortunately, seemed to somber at that, making no more complaints as he dropped his line into the water and let it sink. 

“Sorry.” I shook myself out of the memories of my lonely childhood. “I didn’t mean to bring down the mood. I just … miss him.” Looking at Chester, I smiled. “You know, I think if he was still alive, you and him would be good friends.” 

“Friends?” A spark seemed to light in old Chester’s eye, before he quickly extinguished it with a grumpy scowl. “Meh, I don’t have any friends. Those silly things are for young whippersnappers just like yourself.” 

“I don’t know, anybody can be friends with anybody. I, for one, would like to be friends with you.” 

Chester stared at me with his one eye, not quite glaring and not quite scowling, before he turned away with a huff. I bit my tongue trying to keep away the hurt. It’s just one day, I reminded myself. It’s only been one day. You’ll get through to him. 

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I saw a tug on the fishing pole. “Chester! You have a bite!” I gasped. 

Chester began reeling in his line, and for a minute I thought I saw something like excitement in his eye.

It went on like this for months. 

I would take Chester out and would try to help him enjoy himself and have fun, even if all he did was complain. I would always help him out, even if he was suspicious of my niceness. 

It took a lot of perseverance and patience on my part to get him to open up to me. Every act of service I would do for him was regarded with suspicion, and every smile was met with a glare. 

But slowly, Chester stopped grumbling and seemed to appreciate what I would do. Granted, he would still grumble and complain, but whenever I would offer him help or a way to have fun, he seemed to make less of an ordeal than before. 

One day Chester came up to me when I was laying on my couch reading a book, hand gripping the wooden cane I bought him and scowled at me.

“Yes, Chester?” I asked primly, closing the book. “Do you need anything?” 

Chester had glared at me, and in his usually wheezy voice, told me that there was a ventriloquist performance in town and he wanted to go, where I would then tell him about myself and my grandfather — but if there were any youngsters and their “rock and roll nonsense” there I could forget about it. He told me that he would absolutely not have fun and that we were definitely not friends. 

I was smiling the whole time, even though the puppet was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen and that it told the most corniest jokes in the most horrible voice I’d ever heard. I was smiling the whole time because Chester was laughing the whole time, having fun. 

It was like a turning point in Chester’s and I’s relationship. The empty gap I felt since my grandfather died was always a bit fuller whenever I was with Chester. 

The old man seemed to appreciate the effort I would put into every act of service I did for him, saying that it was good that “a young whippersnapper such as myself was respecting my elders”.

I leaned down to hug the old man with a smile, feeling myself glow with happiness. “I love you, Chester.”

Chester seemed to stiffen, at the contact or what I said, I didn’t know. “Eh, you ain’t too bad — for a youngster.” Chester grumbled, but couldn’t help the smile from growing on his grumpy face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Svetlana — Receiving Gifts

Svetlana was — by far — one of the easiest alters to get along with. 

She was so bright and cheery, enthusiastic and fun it was impossible to not like her. The first time Svetlana and I hung out I was surprised how easily we clicked. Apparently, she had always wanted to meet me, seeing how happy I made Mike. 

I grew up as a lonely child, so Svetlana was like a breath of fresh air, the girl friend I always wanted. 

We hung out all the time, watching those sappy romantic movies that make the guys gag, we went shopping — but the thing we did together most was gymnastics. 

I’ll admit that the first time Svetlana saw me climbing the trees in my backyard, I purposefully showed off; doing more flips than nessacary as Svetlana stared in awe. 

“Vhere did you learn something like that?” She’d gasped as I climbed down the tree. I shrugged, trying to keep the blush off my face. 

“Just something I picked up,” I waved nonchalantly. “I was always a bit of a wild child growing up.”

“Oh, you must try gymnastics!” Svetlana gushed, and of course I said yes because I was an absolute people’s pleaser; and if I knew Svetlana, she wouldn’t stop asking until I said yes. 

Besides, how hard could gymnastics be?

“Ah, hah … Svetlana … can we please take a break?”  I panted days later, drenched with sweat. “My legs are about to fall off.” 

“Rest after success!” Svetlana declared cheerfully, looking as perfect and polished as she did before practice started. “Now, complete zhe triple point axle!” 

I groaned, nearly folding into myself as my knees weakened at the thought. Svetlana was a brutal coach, having me perform all kinds of complicated flips even though she insisted they were “beginner”. 

Yeah, right. 

Sighing, I got into position and took a running leap — only to fail miserably as I twisted wrong and promptly faceplanted in front of my coach. 

“Hmmm … perhaps you can use a little break.”

I merely groaned, wallowing in my misery as I heard Svetlana leave, then return a moment later. 

Something cold touched my shoulder, and I turned to see Svetlana holding out a water bottle with a kind smile. “You are not so bad, for an amateur.” She said. “Svetlana is sorry if she has been … overzealous. None of the others has shown an interest in gymnastics.”

I smiled and unscrewed the bottle. “It’s okay. It must be hard to be the only girl in a brain full of five guys.”

Svetlana scoffed. “Oh, you ‘ave no idea.” With that, she launched into a full on rant with me listening patiently, our lesson forgotten. 

Months later, Mike told me Svetlana had a big competition coming up — only the best of the best would be there. And she wanted me to come. 

Svetlana won the whole thing and got a perfect score. As the cheers rang out, Svetlana flounced over to me, practically glowing from her victory as I flung my arms around my friend, clutching the flowers I was going to gift her. 

I laughed, beaming. “I love you, Svetlana!”

The words slipped out before I even realized it, but Svetlana didn’t seem to mind as she seemed to press me tighter into the hug.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Vito — Words of Affirmation

Out of all the personalities in Mike’s head — besides Mal — I got along with Vito the least.

It was just … he was just so …

Vito didn’t get a lot of time out of Mike’s head, so he was sure to make it count.

When Vito came outside, he wanted to do what he wanted. He wanted to live, to meet people, to experience as much as he could before the shirt was pulled on once more and he had to be crammed into one head with multiple personalities.

I’ve tried to talk to Vito, I really have, but most of the time he would treat me like a pest he couldn’t get rid of. Every time I try to talk to him he just ends up hurting my feelings somehow. He’ll tell me I’m not that pretty or that I’m annoying him, and sometimes I would have to storm off to stop myself from punching him in the face. Honestly, the only reason why he didn't have a missing tooth by now was because he had Mike's face.

And for a while I thought that was all we were going to be. A jerk to me, and a nuisance to him. 

Until …

Vito stormed into the room I was in, looking ticked off with a dark look in his eyes. I looked up from the book I was reading on the couch.

“Vito, what’s wrong?” I asked, trying to keep the right amount of concern in my voice. Too much and he would tell me to back off and shove my pity somewhere else. Too little and he would think I didn’t care. 

“Nothin,’' he shrugged. “What could possibly be wrong when you’re this sexy?” As if to prove his point, he started to flex his muscles in a way that was … admittedly distracting, yes, but I refused to be swayed. 

“Vito …” 

“I don’t need ya pity, Red,” He told me casually — and yes, there it is. How can it be that he’s so good at reading me like I’m with him, but we still don’t get along?

“It’s not pity, I’m just worried about you.” I said, closing the book I was reading to give him my full attention. “Can’t I be worried about you?”

Vito glowered at me, looking at me with a mixture of annoyance and mistrust, before turning away. 

Thinking quickly, I said, “You know, we’re not too far from the beach. Do you want to go swimming and work on your tan?” 

That seemed to catch his interest a little. “I could go for some rays. But don’t ya think this makes us all buddy buddy or anything!”

“Of course not,” I stood up and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to go grab the surfboards. Can you start the car?” 

I walked away to hear Vito’s surprised exclamation of knowing I could surf and smirked.

From that day forward, Vito and I became friends … sort of. 

He would still get on my nerves like no other but … I think we reached an understanding, one can say. He made me competitive, wanting to prove myself and him wrong. We went back and forth when we conversed, but not in a bad way, but in a fun way. 

But for some reason, there was still this underlying tension between us, one that would make my stomach knot for no good reason. It confused me, and I could tell Vito could feel it too. 

The way he would flirt and flaunt in front of women when I was right there, the way he was always obsessing over his self-proclaimed “hotness”. For some reason it bugged me to no end, just like it did back on Total Drama when Vito was with Anne Maria. 

But I didn’t want to dig into it. Vito and I were finally getting along, and I didn’t want to complicate things and make us go back to the way things were. 

“So, how come you’re with a dorkus like Mike when ya can be with someone much more attractive, like me?” Vito asked one day as he drove us to the beach. Vito kept insisting that I needed to work on my tan even after I repeatedly told him that “I don’t tan, I burn.”

Vito smirked and did an eyebrow wiggle that made me snort into my hand. “You share the same body, genius.” I roll my eyes and giggle. “Besides, I’m more of a substance-over-style type of girl.”

“A dying breed.” 

“Maybe, but one that does not fail.”

“The Vito can’t be held down by any broad,” he boasted.

“That’s because you haven’t met the right one yet.” I countered.

Vito seemed to pause at that, and I fell quiet. Right. How could Vito ever meet a girl when Vito wasn’t even out? It would be hard to find a girl and settle down if you weren’t even in control of your own body half of the time. Would Vito ever find his girl? Did he even want a girl?

I remembered that first day Vito and I hung out, he had quietly told me how he had gone to see Anne Maria, and that they had gotten into a huge fight because she thought he was choosing me over her. She wouldn’t listen — or couldn’t understand — that he was Vito, not Mike.

I turned to look at him and felt my stomach clench. Vito … 

He would need someone to understand him, to know when he was sad or angry. Someone who could keep up with him, someone who wasn’t afraid to call him out, someone who knew —

I stopped cold. Someone like me.

When I told Vito “I love you,” it was quick and quiet, slipping out between my breath as we slammed the car doors shut. It’s noise should have drowned the words out, but I knew he still heard from the way he stopped.

Vito went quiet and still, and that freaked me out like no other because Vito was never those two things. He was cocky and obnoxious, always instigating conflicts and preening over his looks in his loud Italian accent. 

He was always moving, whether it was to flex for the ladies or to slick his hair back or to mess with his golden necklace and to tap out the beats of music that would thrum through the car.

I instantly slapped a hand over my mouth the moment those words escaped, berating myself for possibly saying the stupidest thing of my life in front of Vito …

… when he did something unexpected.

Slowly, Vito reached over, cupped my face, and kissed me. 

It was thrilling, warm and soft with a hint of spice. Vito was a master at kissing, from his warm lip-only kisses to his more heated tongue-centric kisses. He was good, leading me with such skill that I found myself giving back as much as I received.

Vito pulled back, gauging my reaction with his dark eyes as I stared back, vulnerable and lightheaded from the kiss. An unavoidable blush rose to my cheeks.  

My mouth worked, opening and closing as I tried to find my voice. “... you just kissed me.”

“You just said you loved me.” Vito challenged back. 

Touché, I thought. 

I contemplated what just happened in my still-fuzzy head, weighing my decisions before finally settling on one.

Face still flushed, I asked, “If I said I loved you again, would you kiss me again?”

In response, Vito pulled me closer and my heart flew out of my chest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manitoba — Quality Time

One of the things that enraptured me first about Manitoba Smith was his thirst for adventure. He spoke of stories that … normally wouldn’t make sense, given that he was an alter in Mike’s brain, but still spoke of dangerous adventures and freedom and wilderness that I wanted to experience. 

Manitoba offered to take me one. 

“Remind me why I agreed to this again?” I gasped as Manitoba and I hiked up the steep side of the mountain. My legs felt like they were about to collapse with every step I took and my breath had left me miles back. 

“Come on now, Sheila, we’re almost there. You were the one who wanted to go on an adventure with me, remember? Not that I blame you, of course. Manitoba Smith is the best adventurer of this century.”

I looked up to see the said Australian holding out his hand, smiling. Gratefully, I took his hand and he hoisted me up. “There we go.”

“I don’t know how you do this every day,” I huffed. “This is exhausting.”

“Now, now. I have years of experience with exploring, and you’re just a beginner. Only time has bearing on a man’s skill, should he be one or one hundred.”

“Or woman.” I added. 

Manitoba only smirked crookedly and we continued climbing in peace, while I looked back on the memories. 

This wasn’t the first time Manitoba and I had gone on one of his adventures. It had happened a while ago, when I had offhandedly blurted out how I wanted to go on one of his adventures. I was more than suprised when he agreed to take me. 

That was months ago, and since then, Manitoba and I had gone on multiple travels together. He had been kind enough to show me the ropes, even though it was through multiple flirting attempts. 

It was nice though, I mused as we reached the destination point, to spend time with Manitoba. There was a lot more to him than met the eye, and on every trip we made I was uncovering more treasured pieces of him that made up the whole. 

We finished setting up camp and both sat on the edge of mountain, precariously dangling our feet over open air. We were both quiet, just enjoying the moment and the quality time together when suddenly—

“Why do you make it so hard for me to flirt with you?” Manitoba asked. 

“Well, if I made it easy then you wouldn’t flirt with me at all,” I replied without thinking. There was a beat of silence, and it quickly dawned on me what I said. With a flash of horror and embarrassment, I whipped my head towards Manitoba to see his surprised gaze reflecting my own. 

For once, Manitoba Smith was at a loss of words. 

I smacked a hand over my mouth, turning away. “I shouldn’t have said that aloud.” I mumbled, almost to myself. “Sorry, forget I said anything.” 

Before I could fully close off from him, Manitoba grabbed my chin and gently guided it back so I could meet his eyes. 

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” He chided. “Don’t pull away.” 

I puffed my cheek out, annoyed and embarrassed. Manitoba merely grinned, cocky and bright-eyed as he took in my reaction. 

“So, does this mean you like it when I flirt with you?” 

I refused to answer, knowing he was only asking this because now he knew the answer. As if I would inflate his ego anymore than I had now. 

 Manitoba’s eyes glinted and he leaned closer, until he was right in my face. No doubt it was the color of my hair. “It’s okay to admit it, sweetheart. I rather like flirting with you too.”

I pushed his face away. “Well, you’re certainly a better flirt than Vito. All he does is flex his muscles.”

Manitoba smirked crookedly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I rolled my eyes.

A couple hours passed, with Manitoba staring a fire and cooking us dinner before we were both back on the ledge, watching for the sunset. 

Manitoba dangled his feet over the ledge, eyes trained on the dying sun as it cast shades of red and gold. 

I found my eyes slowly being drawn away from the view, turning to look at Manitoba Smith. He was quiet, taking in every moment of the sunset’s beauty. I felt my heart in my throat. 

Oh. 

He looked— he looked — 

I didn’t just like Manitoba, I realized. I loved him. 

It was the accent that caught my attention at first— an Australian one, that held a certain cockiness in the voice

Then it was his bravery, facing whatever challenge came to him head-on. 

Then it was his kindness, his selfless nature, his confidence. It was all of that, all of him, that made me realized how much I loved spending time with him, how much I loved his company, how much I loved him

I wasn’t one to hold back from telling the truth, and he wasn’t one to shy away from what he was feeling. So with that in mind, I plucked up my last strand of bravery, swallowed back my nerves, and said, “I love you.” 

There was a split second of silence, then—

“I was wondering when you would get around to saying that.”

I whipped my head around. “Excuse me?” Was he seriously taking my confession as a joke? Something to boost his own ego? Well, then—

I froze, biting back the verbal lashing I was about to give him when I saw his face. 

There wasn’t the usual confident glint in his eyes or the cocky grin on him. Instead, Manitoba Smith was looking at me tenderly with a gentle smile on his face that looked so different, but at the same time, so right.

I swallowed the heart in my throat. 

Oh. 

“That’s seriously all you have to say to me? ‘What took you so long?’” I rolled my eyes in fake exasperation, trying to hide the amusement in my voice and failing. 

“Well, of course! I happen to be an Australian heartthrob for the ladies. I’m impressed you managed to hold off for so long.” Manitoba winked. 

“You’re a lot of work. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m worth it.”

I snorted, even though I couldn’t exactly deny his claims. I leaned my head on his shoulder and we sat in silence, both of us just enjoying each other’s presence as the sun sank behind the horizon. 

“So, uh, think you’ll be going on any more adventures with me, Sheila?” Manitoba asked sheepishly. 

I leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I just might.” I said, smiling.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mal — ?

Sometimes on cold nights Mal would come out.

He had toned down since Total Drama All Stars, but his reputation had preceded him so at first I was always cautious and kept my distance whenever he would appear.

But Mal was different. Quieter. He didn’t burst into fits of rage or go on a streak of vengence like all of us expected; instead he was more mellow.

Granted, he was still Mal — he would still threaten bodily harm whenever I annoyed him (which was a lot), he still had a cruel sense of humor, and perhaps he did still have a sadistic edge to him – but it wasn't like he was trying to drown me or anything like he did during the finale, so I figured it was okay to try and talk to him.

And ... strangely enough, it was.

Mal was tight-lipped and short whenever I would pry for conversation, and oftentimes would respond with scathing remarks that would hurt my feelings or pride.

But he never physically hurt me. Ever.

Months passed, and slowly ... oh so slowly ... he opened up.

Mal talked to me.

He told he about his past, how he would fill in Mike's memory gaps from his childhood. He told me about juvie, about how he had to stay in control because someone of Mike's caliber would have been chewed up and spit out in a place like that. He told me how the others came to be, why they came to be, through awful, awful stories that made me sick to my stomach because that happened to Mike, and the people I loved didn't know, and Mal had to remember.

I think the thing that shocked Mal most was that I listened. I stayed. I cared, even though at the beginning he thought it was fake. I tried to understand him, I listened to his problems, and tried to help him through them.

The funny thing was, I wasn’t even in love with him at the time I was doing those things.

Sometimes Mal would say he wanted a break, so whenever he was out and at my place I took him to my rooftop to let him breathe.

It worked better than I thought, because on some days when I wasn’t even home he would just break into my house and sneak onto my roof.

On cold nights like tonight, Mal would come out onto my rooftop and draw. I sat down a couple feet from him, since I knew he liked his personal space. The cold tiles bit through my jean bottoms as I wrapped my arms around myself. My misty breath floated in front of my face and into the night sky.

I peered over at what Mal was sketching and had to stop myself from giggling. A menacing tower was etched on the page. Overlooking a volcano. Bats and skulls flew from the paper.

I watched him with a smile on my face. Mal was absorbed with his art, occasionally blowing his hair out of his eye as his pencil worked across the page.

"You're staring," Mal startled me out of my daze with his low tone.

"Sorry." I laughed a bit nervously. "I'm just a bit distracted today. I’m happy."

Mal didn't say anything for a bit, before he said without looking up, "You're always happy."

I chuckled. "Yeah, but today I realized something that made me really happy."

There was a brief silence, and I could feel him prompting.

I took a deep breath. This is it, I thought. Like ripping off a band-aid.

"I just realized that I loved you."

The sounds of sketching stopped, and I determinedly stared up at the star-speckled sky before I looked down and began fiddling with the worn red sleeves of my hoodie.

My stomach started twisting itself in anxious knots as the silence dragged on, and I can feel Mal's eyes set me on fire as I avoid his gaze.

For once, I can't read his silences, and that alone was making me nervous. Before I could get up and excuse myself, something warm and lean pressed up against my side.

"Huh?" I said, because I have genuinely never been so confused in that moment.

Mal ignored me and continued to lean against me as he drew. I was completely baffled as he began whistling his signature tune with a small smile/smirk – the one he always used whenever he was in –

I gasped. My heart skipped a beat and it suddenly felt like a million tons was lifted from my shoulders.

"You –" I stopped, because natually he wasn't going to answer.

I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding as an exhilarated smile split my face. I bit my lip to control my giddy grin as I gently twined my fingers with his, squeezing once as he stiffened, then relaxed.

Mal squeezed back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#total drama #total drama fanfic #td zoey #td mike #td mal #td chester #td svetlana #td manitoba #td vito #tdroti #mike x zoey #mal x zoey #vito x zoey #manitoba x zoey #svetlana and zoey #chester and zoey

[navree]

Since i really like your headcanons, i wish you could give us your thoughts/headcanons about the personalities of the green's dragons

You're too nice, thanks!

So, I have a lot of Sunfyre headcanons here, but the gist of it is that Sunfyre is incredibly vain because he knows he's The Hot Girl, but also incredibly affectionate, not just with Aegon (tho it is primarily with him due to their bond) but also with Aegon's family and even their dragons. He's incredibly light hearted, and though a preener to the absolute extreme, also a playful boy at heart.

I think of Dreamfyre as a bit of an "odd one out" type of dragon, especially given that her known riders are people who're seen as "divergent" by society, Rhaena being our lesbian babe and Helaena being coded as neurodivergent herself. She's older, so she knows what she likes and what she doesn't like, and she likes to keep to herself primarily and do her own thing. I think out of all of them, she adores flying, and there's an element of playfulness to her, since I think she's Sunfyre's mother, and I think she too is extraordinarily loving, just less in a show off way than Sunfyre. She's also more exclusive in her affection, deeply attached to Helaena and less willing to share some of that than the way Sunfyre is with the rest of the Greens.

Vhagar, as everyone has memed, and to which I agree, is dragon meemaw. She's everyone's extremely cranky grandma, and she's able to keep young whippersnappers in line with just a look. I also think Vhagar's a bit jaded, not by any of the human deaths she's seen necessarily (though I think Laena's clearly affected her, as she mourned) but by what happened to Meraxes. Meraxes is written as having been larger than Vhagar, and there's no other information on when she was born, so I think Meraxes was older, and likely something of an older sister, insofar as dragons feel things about siblings. So Meraxes having been shot down, combined with Visenya's own deep cavernous grief over Rhaenys (aaaaaaaahhhhhh) likely hardened her. I also think that, as Vhagar grew older, she grew fond of having young riders, of having people to take care of, given that Laena claimed her at age twelve and Aemond at age ten, and she's very possessive, views the creatures she loves as her's and will defend them ferociously and with her own life if necessary. And she's a grudging grandmaternal presence to the littler dragons, even if she thinks Sunfyre is a drama queen.

Tessarion, like, her rider, is the baby. She's also not nearly as vain as Sunfyre, despite still being gorgeous, and I actually think she's a bit shy, and probably needs to be coaxed out of her shell by Daeron and Sunfyre more than any other dragon. Tessarion is also incredibly physically affectionate (while Sunfyre adores Aegon and does love his other family, he's not necessarily very physical about it), but Tessarion is constantly curling up around Daeron and butting her head against his. When she was small enough to be held she was insufferable about it.

#personal #answered #anonymous #this was a fun one anon!! #i don't think of the dragons' personalities much but it was nice to bang out some lighter headcanons #it's not very big or very detailed but have a lil smth

[themeganator5000]

May... May I see why you agree with Scooter being gay

Oh god. Yeah, I suppose so. I literally just typed up what would basically be my script if I ever did a youtube video essay rant about this topic (i will never do this, but someone definitely should).

Bear in mind, I literally wrote this like an hour ago in a hyperfixation-induced daze so my friend @hails-the-geek would have something silly to wake up to 😘 So, not exactly written for public consumption, but since you asked so nicely:

SO HERES HOW WE CAN FIX SCOOTER. Scooter the Muppet started out as a nepotistic lil whippersnapper who had little to no morals and only cared about meeting famous people and having a high-paying, low-effort job. Now that's all well and good and a Scooter we have all grown to love BUT ever since Disney has obtained ownership of the Muppets, they have become less of the struggling underdogs and more of a lesser-known classic. This already raises some problems with the overall tone of the characters, especially Scooter, because the only way he was able to get Kermit and the gang to bend to his every whim was to remind them that his very wealthy uncle owned the theatre and the ground it stood on. The fun of his character was that he was a gofer (essentially an intern) whose job it was to take orders from anyone for anything, but with his familial connection to a person in high power he could inversely force any one of the Muppets to take orders from HIM to get just about anything. Now, since the Muppets HAVE no theatre and are usually performing on a soundstage likely owned by the Disney company, Scooter has lost his influence and no longer has the ability to be the narcissist, sassy, two-timing brat he once was. He has been boiled down to his face value as an over-enthusiastic, dorky, wide-eyed fanboy who eagerly goes along with whatever he is told to do. This, of course, was present in the original iteration, but it was always known that if Scooter ever DISAGREED with what he was told to do, he could always find a way around it. Helpful until inconvenient. It is also worth noting that in the original Muppet Show, Scooter was intended to be a young boy around 14 years old, but in more recent adaptations he seems to have aged, being given adult love interests and being shown cage dancing in a nightclub. This brings me to my conclusion; how we can fix Scooter in this modern age and bring back some of that charm that made us adore him all those years ago. The answer is quite simple, really:

MAKE

SCOOTER

🏳️‍🌈 𝗚 𝗔 𝗬 🏳️‍🌈

Richard Hunt, the Muppeteer who portrayed Scooter and many other characters until his untimely death in 1992, was openly gay and a well-loved part of the original Muppet cast. So much so, that Jim Henson personally requested that he be the one to host the memorial service at his funeral, which he did. Richard Hunt said that he based Scooter's personality on his own when he first started working with the Muppets, enthusiastic, eager to please, and definitely trying too hard. While all those personality traits are decidedly still present in today's Scooter, the absence of one crucial piece is blatantly apparent.

𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.

While never explicitly stated, Scooter's character can easily be interpreted as gay, exhibiting flamboyant characteristics, having a borderline obsession with Elton John, just kinda being twinkish and boy-toy-like in nature. Whatever the reasoning, there is no better candidate for Disney's First Gay Muppet than the trademark character of the original gay Muppeteer, Scooter. BUT! It is EXTREMELY important to note that there are two ways this could be played: either there are little to no changes in Scooter's personality and he just gets an off-screen boyfriend or something (lame) OR Scooter's personality shifts into a more goofy-sassy gay best friend type of deal where he hangs out with Miss Piggy a bit more and references more modern queer icons (like Beyoncé or something?? idk ask a gay man) and comments on the attractiveness of male guest stars whenever the opportunity arises. This was hinted to in the 2015 series ABC's "The Muppets", but they never fully committed to the bit. Calling Scooter a boy toy is one thing, but having him get caught making out with Walter in the storage closet is another. COMMIT TO THE FUCKING BIT, DISNEY. Let Scooter say "yasss, qween" and "slayyy" and lust over men's bodies I'm not asking for much. You have already denied me Bert & Ernie and Statler & Waldorf, but let me have Scooter. Let me have the one Muppet my ADHD-riddled lesbian ass choice to have a crush on at 14 years old. Let me live out my fantasy of seeing Scooter on a Muppet-themed float at a pride parade. Please Disney, think of the fucked-up adults. We deserve this, we've EARNED this. You've ruined every other part of my childhood with your dirty capitalism, you OWE me this 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎. You will make Scooter gay. Scooter 𝗜𝗦 gay. Scooter has always 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 gay. And there is absolutely 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 you can do about it.

Thank you for your time.

#i didn’t proofread this i didn’t fact-check anything this is just a direct stream of consciousness from my brain to my thumbs #you notice any mistakes you keep it to yourself hon #also sorry if it’s a little explain-y hailey isn’t as much of a muppet aficionado as yours truly #and uuuuhhhhhhh yeah it’s just a big block of text i’m not cutting it up #listen sweetie you asked for it #ur lucky i like u all so much <3 #muppets #scooter #muppets scooter #scooter muppets #scoowalt #wooter #i don’t fucking know it’s 3am ladies #lookit. lookit what you made me do! i should be sleepin peacefully dog!! #this is. this is what i stayed up to write so i guess it is my fault i’m still awake #but STILL #hailey u better fucin reply to that text #ok. i sleep 😴😴😴 #my posts

[nobodysdaydreams]

Part 3 of my MBS Quiz Feedback, but it’s just the Chris Person This Time (featuring a story about Baby Bods)

Hello mysterious Chris person, who apparently DOES follow (or lurk) on my tumblr. 👋🏻 Thank you for your wonderful entertainment; I had a very lovely evening.

Part 1 and Part 2 Here.

The Chris person came back to clarify that they were speaking not to me, but to the hypothetical people out there who "think Chris Evans is a DILF." Apparently, despite never posting about any Chris, some or maybe even just one of my other followers believes he is a DILF, and Chris wishes to use me as a middle man to set this misguided individual straight on the matter. At this point, if I had to guess who the Chris person was, I'd say Gert, because he's the only person I've seen refer to Nicholas and Milligan as DILFs, but hey, I've been wrong before. (Regardless Chris person, I think you should follow Gert, because they would probably agree with many of your DILF thoughts). The Chris person also stated that they would vaporize Curtain with their tiny body and pure rage, which confirms my suspicion that they are the same person as "Why do I always get pigeon". And unfortunately, after taking the quiz this time, they did, once again, get the pigeon result.

2. But the Chris person came back determined. Coming back to A) pick all the salad answers and b) scream at the sky and shake their fists at getting dead pigeon again. Both of which happened. I will say that the Chris person did come close to getting the Alpaca on this attempt, but they fell into a trap that I myself have fallen in before. So let me help you out random stranger.

Story Time: You see, many years ago, when I was but a young whippersnapper, little Bods briefly enjoyed the 39 Clues book series. Now, I don't remember much of the plot at this point, but I do remember that it was one of those book series that sorted you into groups, and there was this fun little test online that you could take to determine what group you were in. The groups have weird names, but basically, there was the intelligent group, the athletic group, the artistic/musical group, and the evil group. Like literally, the evil group. I guess they're also known for "Spying" and stuff, but if you google their Wiki page, "Lying" and "Poison" are literally listed as being their special skills, while the others groups have stuff like inventing, sports, and art. So baby Bods knew she wasn't getting in the athletic group (nor did she want to be in the group, the feeling was mutual), and as much as I loved acting, my singing and dancing left something to be desired (with the something in question being talent or even an average level of skill). Which left me with the evil and smart people groups, and I was just so sure I was gonna get the smart group. I was a good student, and I'd never poisoned anyone. I wasn't a bad person, at least, I didn't think I was. I didn't want to be. But imagine the shock and dismay of little baby Bods, when I took that quiz and got the evil group. I was shocked. Dismayed. Humiliated. Baby Bods took it personally. I wasn't evil. I was a nice, intelligent person, surely. In fact, I thought I was quite clever. Clever enough to realize that this had to be a mistake, and that I was probably pretty close to the intelligent group result, so surely, if I wanted to change my result, all I had to do was retake the quiz with a few small adjustments. I kept all the answer choices I was 100% sure were "me" the same, and changed all my "on the fence" answers, hoping this would push me in the right direction.

But alas, the same result. And that's when little Bods realized, to her horror, that it was not the on the fence answers that were pushing her into the evil group, but the answers that she was putting consistently. The ones she was sure of. To make matters worse, this quiz was on a website (that I don't think exists anymore), but it had games that went with the different groups. And baby Bods discovered, to her dismay, that she actually liked the games attributed to the evil group. They were code breaking and pattern recognition games that she was actually really good at. And as baby Bods accepted the sad truth, she also reflected and considered that maybe this wasn't a horrible result. Sure, she didn't like the way the group was characterized, but there wasn't anything inherently bad with being good at these sorts of things. Perhaps this really was where baby Bods belonged after all, despite her repeated attempts to run from the truth and run from herself.

So what is the moral of this story? The moral is, Chris person, is that while I don't know you, it is possible that maybe the answers pushing you towards dead pigeons are the answers that define you the most (the Mr. Benedict character answer, wanting to live somewhere safe, missing the feeling of being alive, being well-intentioned and eager to help, learning morse code, trying to join the society and failing, never having been to Europe (although that last one applies to a lot of answers)). And that might not be a bad thing! It means you care about Mr. Benedict and you want to help the society! Sure, you might not be entirely successful in that task, but the pigeons as characters are heroes, martyrs for the cause. They were loyal and dedicated birds, who knew the risk they were taking when they signed up to help the society. Are they as beloved in the fandom as Madge? No. Do people think they're as cool or as powerful of an answer as the Yukon Wolves that raised Constance? No. Are they as iconic as the Alpaca? No. But the pigeons volunteered to help the society even knowing how vulnerable and small they were. They stepped up, and not for themselves, but for their friends, and for what was right. Even knowing what might happen. That is bravery, that is sacrifice, and that is something to be proud of.

3. But the Chris person was DETERMINED to get a different result, and I gotta say, I respect the hustle. So they took the quiz again, and got one of Dr. Garrison's lab rats. I think the feedback speaks for itself.

#Thank you Chris Person this was a wonderful journey #I hope my story is inspirational #mbs quiz #mbs #tmbs