Wherever Steve is living, no matter if it’s in DC or Brooklyn, the Avenger’s tower or a cramped cabin at sea, at any given moment Natasha is either in the process of or has already broken into it.
Steve can never catch her; she is Schrodinger’s Russian.
And while she certainly has the skills to make it appear as if no one had been there, that’s not really Natasha’s jam. She’s doing Steve a service. She is being an awesome friend.
Sometimes Steve will return to wherever it is that he sleeps (where he closes his eyes, where he falls unconscious, where he is completely unprotected and what the hell this isn’t funny, except it totally is, Steve, get with the program) – he will return, and he will find that she has brought him a little gift.
It is a gift of home decor.
She has found enormous American flag blankets and draped them fetchingly along his couch. She has found flag throw pillows and placed them artfully on his bed. She once carefully replaced all his dishes with ones that had the Declaration of Independence printed on them in full; on one fateful occasion, she found a framed Mount Rushmore lovingly rendered on crushed black velvet with generous layers of glittery acrylics. (That, she put in a place of honor above his television, with a picture rail and directional lighting.)
Her personal best, though, is the time Steve went to the deli down the street, talked for a few minutes with the owner, helped an elderly man at the crosswalk, and gave the rest of his spare cash to the homeless vet on the corner before returning home, opening his bathroom door, and finding that she (or someone that she had inexplicably let into his very private rooms, jesus Nat why) had somehow in the intervening time completely redecorated it in the most surreal and gut-heaving rendition of country-craft Americana that could possibly be managed in the time allotted. There were aw-shucks red and white gingham curtains on the window, tied back with burlap ribbon. The toilet paper was in a stand-up Uncle Sam holder whittled from basswood and handpainted by someone’s no-doubt-very-talented aunt. The now apple-scented handsoap was in its own knitted cozy with a red chicken motif along the bottom. The curtain was, naturally, styled as a cheery patchwork quilt. And the entire room had been retiled in a jaunty red-white-and-blue striped and starred pattern that only a severely colorblind or, failing that, terribly insane person could love.
The floor tiles shifted a little when he stepped on them, rendering an unfortunate dip in the previously perfect grouting. That was the only sign that the room hadn’t always looked as if the proud vendors of a town-wide craft fair had vomited noisily all over his home.
Natasha has never admitted this was her doing. She has, in fact, never admitted to doing any of it. Steve, she will always say very seriously from where she has propped herself on several flag pillows, are you sure you didn’t do it?
She will stretch her legs, and curl deeper into the flag blanket she would have immediately claimed upon entering his living room. Pretty sure it looks like your kind of thing, Steve, she will say, and at no point whatsoever, no matter how long Steve waits, will she admit to how she got into his building, went up the stairs, broke into his apartment and placed a four-foot mounted fish
above the toilet without a single goddamn witness.
Natasha will always just smile. (She is an awesome friend.)
shoutout to all high school dropouts, students who didn’t get accepted into college, students who used to be on honor roll but became overwhelmed, students who study for hours but still fail tests, or student who don’t study at all due to depression/anxiety, you are all stars and I’m wishing y'all the best luck possible to get back on your feet
how come xmen quicksilver can save 31+people, a dog, and like 5 goldfish from an exploding building and yet aou quicksilver can’t even stop himself from getting shot
how fucked up is it that so many men associate periods and menstruation with women “acting shitty” towards thembecause of pms,when women are literally the ones who go through actual painbecause of the whole thing?
I mean, dude, this is so not about you. grow up and get over yourself.
me looking for fanfic of a common pairing:
it gotta be 20k+, finished, set in Estonia in 1999, T-rated, cooking show AND fake marriage au, no character death, everyone is a genderfluid panromantic ace, at least three cats and seven penguins are involved
me looking for rare pair fanfic:
HOLY SHIT IT'S IN ENGLISH *immediately starts reading without even checking the summary*
This weekend I was told a story which, although I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, because holy shit is it ever obvious, is kind of blowing my mind.
A friend of a friend won a free consultation with Clinton Kelly of What Not To Wear, and she was very excited, because she has a plus-size body, and wanted some tips on how to make the most of her wardrobe in a fashion culture which deliberately puts her body at a disadvantage.
Her first question for him was this: how do celebrities make a plain white t-shirt and a pair of weekend jeans look chic? She always assumed it was because so many celebrities have, by nature or by design, very slender frames, and because they can afford very expensive clothing. But when she watched What Not To Wear, she noticed that women of all sizes ended up in cute clothes that really fit their bodies and looked great. She had tried to apply some guidelines from the show into her own wardrobe, but with only mixed success. So - what gives?
His answer was that everything you will ever see on a celebrity’s body, including their outfits when they’re out and about and they just get caught by a paparazzo, has been tailored, and the same goes for everything on What Not To Wear. Jeans, blazers, dresses - everything right down to plain t-shirts and camisoles. He pointed out that historically, up until the last few generations, the vast majority of people either made their own clothing or had their clothing made by tailors and seamstresses. You had your clothing made to accommodate the measurements of your individual body, and then you moved the fuck on. Nothing on the show or in People magazine is off the rack and unaltered. He said that what they do is ignore the actual size numbers on the tags, find something that fits an individual’s widest place, and then have it completely altered to fit. That’s how celebrities have jeans that magically fit them all over, and the rest of us chumps can’t ever find a pair that doesn’t gape here or ride up or slouch down or have about four yards of extra fabric here and there.
I knew that having dresses and blazers altered was probably something they were doing, but to me, having alterations done generally means having my jeans hemmed and then simply living with the fact that I will always be adjusting my clothing while I’m wearing it because I have curves from here to ya-ya, some things don’t fit right, and the world is just unfair that way. I didn’t think that having everything tailored was something that people did.
It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t know this. But no one ever told me. I was told about bikini season and dieting and targeting your “problem areas” and avoiding horizontal stripes. No one told me that Jennifer Aniston is out there wearing a bigger size of Ralph Lauren t-shirt and having it altered to fit her.
I sat there after I was told this story, and I really thought about how hard I have worked not to care about the number or the letter on the tag of my clothes, how hard I have tried to just love my body the way it is, and where I’ve succeeded and failed. I thought about all the times I’ve stood in a fitting room and stared up at the lights and bit my lip so hard it bled, just to keep myself from crying about how nothing fits the way it’s supposed to. No one told me that it wasn’t supposed to. I guess I just didn’t know. I was too busy thinking that I was the one that didn’t fit.
I thought about that, and about all the other girls and women out there whose proportions are “wrong,” who can’t find a good pair of work trousers, who can’t fill a sweater, who feel excluded and freakish and sad and frustrated because they have to go up a size, when really the size doesn’t mean anything and it never, ever did, and this is just another bullshit thing thrown in your path to make you feel shitty about yourself.
I thought about all of that, and then I thought that in elementary school, there should be a class for girls where they sit you down and tell you this stuff before you waste years of your life feeling like someone put you together wrong.
So, I have to take that and sit with it for a while. But in the meantime, I thought perhaps I should post this, because maybe my friend, her friend, and I are the only clueless people who did not realise this, but maybe we’re not. Maybe some of you have tried to embrace the arbitrary size you are, but still couldn’t find a cute pair of jeans, and didn’t know why.
This post is one of those things that I will reblog every time it appears on my dash. This is so important, and no one ever tells you about it.
I almost didn’t read this but then I did and I’m really glad that I did.
Sam, Clint, and Scott were all a little beat up. A few cuts and bruises, a lot of anger. Some of that's the battle. Some of that's them being arrested and thrown into maximum security cells.
But Wanda?
Wanda’s in a straight jacket and a shock collar. Wanda’s collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall, silent, white as a sheet, and barely moving.
Wanda wasn’t just arrested. Wanda was tortured by the government.
Because how do you get an all-powerful and uncooperative young woman into a straight jacket? You knock her out, probably shoot her full of tranquilizers until she stops struggling.
Because why put her in a shock collar if she’s already restrained? To keep her quiet and docile. Because they don’t understand her or her powers, what they do or how they work, so they’ve tried to cover all the bases.
Because why wouldn’t Wanda speak to Tony; why wouldn’t she snark and quip like Clint and Scott and Sam; why wouldn’t she spit and curse and scream? The last time she tried, she got shocked. The last time and every time before that, they shocked her. She was in constant pain from moving or speaking - because every time she did something, anything the guards thought she was trying to use her powers, trying to attack them - so she decided the best option was to sit still, keep quiet, and stop fighting. Don’t make any sudden movements; don’t make any movements at all.
She’s been in this situation before, with HYDRA. But even they didn’t restrain her. At least they let her move, let her speak, let her use her powers. At least they let her throw herself against the walls, let her scream, let her manipulate the fabric of the universe. (At least she still had her brother.) She knows what prison feels like - knows confinement and pain by heart - but this is worse.
When Steve comes to break her out, how much do you want to bet that she flinched at the sight of him? Moved into the corner when the door opened? Cringed when he tried to unbind her? Whined when he got close to the collar because she was afraid it would hurt him or her or both?
How screwed up do you think Wanda is after being tortured by people who say they’re doing it to protect the greater good?
How long before she tries to speak again? Is it just a whisper at first? Is she quieter than she used to be? Does it take her days before she’s willing to speak above a mumble, weeks before she shouts to be heard, months before she screams of her own volition?
How long does it take Wanda to let people touch her again? Does she throw Clint across the room the first time he places a hand on her shoulder to comfort her? Does she flinch at loud noises? Stops wearing necklaces because they make her feel collared? Refuses hugs because they make her feel restrained?
How much time goes by before Wanda dares to use her powers again? How long before she lets go of the fear of being shocked for something that’s a fundamental part of her? How long before she embraces the energy again?
How long before she stops being scared and starts being angry?
Also NONE OF THIS makes Vader less vicious or violent out in the world. Sometimes this makes Vader MORE vicious and violent out in the world, in fact, because he figures out slightly quicker than Padmé exactly how much SHARPER she is with him when he’s gone farther than she wanted him to go. And it’s not even the sharpness he wants specifically–it’s the ATTENTION–but he’d never say no to it. When she figures THAT out … hah. Haaaaah. She doesn’t even have to fucking TOUCH him, when she figures that out.
She DOESN’T touch him when she figures that out. He goes fucking CRAZY with it; he falls the fuck APART with it. She doesn’t even look at him for a full week, not even when he goddamn BEGS her to. The Empire could probably have collapsed without either of them noticing, if the Senate hadn’t known exactly how dead they all would’ve been if it had.
Just–Padmé Amidala literally riding the FUCKING TIGER here, with the fine line of giving Vader enough Dark to be content with but not enough to damn himself with. As if that even matters, now. As if that COULD matter, now.
It matters even more, now.
But what Vader wants from her is so much tenderness, and so much terribleness, and so MUCH, and sometimes Padmé isn’t sure if she’s the bloody bite-mark smeared down his throat or the soft hand stroking through his sticky, sweat-soaked hair. Or worse–if she’s both. What is she, if she is both those things to someone?
What is she if she is both those things to the GALAXY?
Like I would add more here but WHAT IS THERE TO ADD?? What. What could I even put here? Except maybe the part where Padmé realizes that even as she’s wrapping a tighter leash around Vader’s throat than anyone else ever has, he’s fucking THANKING her for it. He’s always had a leash or a collar or a slave chip, he’s always been OWNED by something or someone, and he’s always hated it. But HER leash, HER rules, HER orders–those aren’t like anyone else’s. He’s HAPPY under her, and all it took was a few thousand murders and betrayals, all it took was killing himself for her.
Vader doesn’t know how to be free, because the Force doesn’t expect him to be free and even Anakin never really knew how to be. Even though this is the MOST free that either of him has ever been. He could do anything he wanted, go anywhere he wanted, and all he wants is his Master.
Padmé realizes this. Padmé HATES this.
Padmé also rewards him when he obeys her, and punishes him when he doesn’t.
Absolutely. Absolutely and ENTIRELY. The only choices Anakin Skywalker ever really made were picking his master, picking the person to follow, to swear himself to, and he was never a good slave or a good Jedi or a good Sith, but he’ll be good for HER. Padmé is the only one who didn’t betray him or try to make him deny who he was, didn’t lie to him–Palpatine wanted him to think she had, but that was just more proof that Palpatine wasn’t the right master. The right master wouldn’t have needed to lie to get his loyalty.
The Jedi told him he couldn’t have attachments; they told him he couldn’t be Dark; they told him he couldn’t have HER. That he couldn’t GIVE himself to her.
But Padmé is his Master. The only worthy one he’s ever had.
(shut up, Obi-Wan, bastard, traitor, liar, you don’t know you refused to understand you would never have treated me like that if you REALLY–)
Padmé is Vader’s Master, so he gave her everything. His loyalty and an empire and the lives of every soldier in it, the lives of every Jedi who’d ever served beside Anakin Skywalker, the life of every other Master he’d ever sworn to. If he has to belong to someone–if he’s always going to be a slave, a servant, a tool, a possession–then at least he’s strong enough to pick who owns him, now. He’ll take all her orders, do everything she asks of him, make the GALAXY do anything she asks, and he will thank her for it every time. It’s better this way.
Sometimes he thinks it would’ve been better if it’d always been this way.
Humans quickly get a reputation among the interplanetry alliance and the reputation is this: when going somewhere dangerous, take a human.
Humans are tough. Humans can last days without food. Humans heal so fast they pierce holes in themselves or inject ink for fun. Humans will walk for days on broken bones in order to make it to safety. Humans will literally cut off bits of themselves if trapped by a disaster.
You would be amazed what humans will do to survive. Or to ensure the survival of others they feel responsible for.
That’s the other thing. Humans pack-bond, and they spill their pack-bonding instincts everywhere. Sure it’s weird when they talk sympathetically to broken spaceships or try to pet every lifeform that scans as non-toxic. It’s even a little weird that just existing in the same place as them for long enough seems to make them care about you. But if you’re hurt, if you’re trapped, if you need someone to fetch help?
You really want a human.
you know fantasy dragon soulbonding fic i want more of that where the humans are the dragons, like, we’re huge, we’re old, we’re scrappy as hell, and if you are small and cute enough we would be delighted to carry you around on our back
Oh god, now I’m imagining sapient species with lifetimes of, like, a year, and there’s one family that’s been attached to, like, a pirate since she rescued the doll-sized matriarch. She was 23 and just getting command of her first space cruiser, and because she rescued the matriach, the entire family regards her as their protector, they literally live in her bedroom until they reproduce too much (They have a litter every month), then they start traveling around her ship, and there’s entire societies all throughout the ship after, like, 5 years.
She goes down to the engine room for the first time in a decade because she has to find the head engineer for reasons, and there are literal little beasties down there who hail her as the “First guardian” and are so astonished to see her, and they want to come with her to the promised land, and she’s just like “Where?” They describe a luxurious land of softness, and she realizes they mean her bedroom.
So she starts making a habit of visiting every place on her ship multiple times a year, bringing the little buggers to see her room and bringing them home, and her legit crew thinks these guys are hilarious and adorable, and anyone with one of them in attendance has permission to visit her room, and long story short, after 20 years, she’s like a crazy cat lady, but with hundreds and hundreds of doll-sized little aliens who literally worship her.
Alternatively, what about the story where we’re the equivalent of the sentient cats? Like we’re small and kinda funny-looking and our lifespan isn’t that great, but we bond with other species like whoa, so most starships have a human as a mascot (the long haul freighters have an entire family, maybe even a village)
And mostly we’re just seen as the cute mascot. But then every now and then the shit hits the impeller. And that’s when you get stories like “he jammed our sonar, and he had a gun on us and we thought we were done for! But, I guess he’d forgotten how flexible humans are. Our ship’s human had crawled out of her nest and behind the console, you know, in that wiring gap? She jumped on his back and ripped his antennae out! With her bare hands! He threw her into the console and she just got right back up and kept fighting, smashed her upper joints into his flaps over and over again, and she didn’t stop until he quit moving, even though she was leaking everywhere and we could see a piece of her inner skeleton! We rushed her to the med techs but we were sure she was done for. But, did you know, humans can reattach their skeleton parts?? She gets around just fine now, says it doesn’t bother her. She saved all of us. She could have just stayed in her nest and been fine, but she defended us and saved the ship. I’m never serving on a crew without a human ever again.”
“Yeah, did you hear about the crew from over Ktl'ree way? They had a gas leak in the middle of that awful nebula they’ve got, took out everyone but their humans. Turns out, their humans rewired their wormhole drive so they could get the ship home in time to get everyone medical attention. Said they figured they’d either all survive or they’d all go together. Now that’s loyalty. Can you imagine?”
“I’ve heard they’re even more fierce about defending the ship if you have a bonded pair. We’ve just had the one, since we’re short haul, but we’re looking for another one after that incident. It’s hard to find one the right age who doesn’t have a ship, though, never mind one she likes. There was one attached to another ship, they actually did bond for a bit, and the other ship offered to pay for our search for a new pair if she’d come with them. We talked to her about it—but she refused to leave us. She said ‘girlfriends come and go but we’re family.’ Can you believe that?”
“They’re amazing. I don’t understand ships who don’t have at least one. I served on a luxury cruiser that had a whole bunch, five or six families. Have you seen their young? They’re so adorable!”
“I know, right? Ours has offspring-from-the-same-parents she talks to whenever we’re in port, and she shows us pictures of their young. We’d find the room if she wanted some, but she says no, she’s not ready—but maybe if we find another one she can bond with. We’re kind of hoping.”
Yesssssssssssssss. This is awesomeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!! I am INSPIRED.
… have you guys not read @seananmcguire’s stories featuring The Mice?
CHEESE AND CAKE! CHEESE AND CAKE!
I feel like there needs to be some kind of post for MCU fans on How To Write About Africa because I feel like there’s a lot of people out there who want to write about Wakanda and T'Challa but are worried about being problematic and that makes me sad because there’s SO MUCH GREAT meta to be had about T'Challa and Wakanda but at the same time there’s a lot of legitimate concerns about perpetuating racist stereotypes and yeah.
T'Challa and Wakanda could be such a great way to introduce people to amazing sci-fi concepts that people should know
This is SO needed.
It’s so easy to be like ‘just try it!’ but the problem with this website is that people don’t think its okay for people to make mistakes. I’ve gotten messages from people who want to write about T’Challa/Wakanda but are nervous about how their work will be perceived and its so sad.
We really need to gather some people who’d be interested in writing a nice little info post!
Here’s something I’ve learned while writing about other cultures, don’t use the linked posts until AFTER you have your first draft. You are going to be too worried about getting things right that it’s going to affect your story. Make all the mistakes you have to, I’ve made a few of mistakes about my culture so it’s okay.
Take your time, get your first draft, preferably even get your second draft,and then you can worry about this, this is also when you can start looking for opinions.
Now there’s also @writingwithcolor they always have useful stuff, here’s their navigation page it’s got a lot of useful info, from books you can read to stereotypes and tropes to inspiration and description.
if a guy is hitting on u and he is clearly the alpha in his group of guys.. go for the third in command and undermine their whole power structure
Oh god, I used this tactic so often. Because in most cases I was trying to pull dudes for my friends, rather than myself. You figure out who their leader is, go for #3 or #4 in the group, who is generally much cuter and a bit more shy. This is why he ranks high, but not too high. You go hard on this dude. You hold his hand and smile at him. You don’t even have to go further. Dude #3 is just bewildered you brushed off #1. This makes the dude at the top antsy. It causes dissent in the ranks. Your friends can now swoop in, picking from the remaining dudes as they start to scatter in the wind. They have lost all sense of self. You have secured free drinks for the rest of the night. And whatever else your genitals desire.
there is a common thread that I’ve noticed among women wherein many of us (rightfully) believe ourselves to be good girlfriends and wives. and this isn’t without reason. entering into a romantic relationship and we naturally mold ourselves to our partners wants and needs. we think, I’m going to throw the shirt they left here in the wash so they don’t have to worry about cleaning it later. I’m going to pick up ingredients at the market for their favorite meal and make it for them. I’m going to leave a glass of water on their nightstand for when they wake up. I’m going to inconvenience myself in this small way in order to make their life marginally easier. these sacrifices hardly even feel like sacrifices. if anything they’re pleasurable: their happiness is your happiness. and yet it’s clear to me that this is a particularly deeply entrenched tendril of socialization. men rarely think like this, rarely reorient their thinking so radically when in a relationship. it presents a dilemma for women. you can either continue being overtly caring and nurturing, even if it’s not reciprocated or even necessarily appreciated, or you can actively become more withholding, which is emotionally taxing in its own right. what can you do. womanhood is synonymous with dissatisfaction and disillusionment
First, thank you for asking. This is something I feel is important!
Second, to those who wonder where this question came from, a while back, I reblogged this, and added the comment about squicks not being the same as triggers.
So what, you ask, is a squick?
A squick is an old fandom term for something that makes you supremely uncomfortable and you absolutely do not want to read it. It can be a trope, a ship, a concept, or just an event that happens within a fic or in canon. For me, abused animals are a definite squick. I don’t like it, and will generally avoid reading any graphic descriptions of such. (That includes tumblr gif sets and such too, people! Tag that shit, will you? Even if it has a happy ending.) Another deep, deep squick of mine is infant age play. Don’t like it, don’t get it, don’t want to think about it.
Now, neither of these things are dangerous to my mental or emotional state. I have never experienced either in my life, and they do not bring about any sort of PTSD, dissociation, or spiral of depression, anxiety, etc. They are simply things I prefer not to think about in my daily life, or read about in my escapist hobbies. Therefore, theyare not triggers. Triggers are very real, very bad things for some people, and to label things we choose not to read because we find it disturbing or gross or weird is to diminish the very real danger of actual triggers.
I love the term squick. It perfectly describes the concept without assigning any negativity to the thing you dislike, or to people who do like the thing you dislike. It is something you personally do not care for and wish to avoid, simple as that.
On Aug. 26, 2007 his mom took a photo of him at 11-months-old, standing on the beach in a green and white shirt, staring into the camera and making a determined little fist. Soon after, the photo morphed into the “Success Kid” meme, and Sam was Internet famous.
Reading other people's writing:
Yes. I want to write like that. Look at that humor, the diction, the perfect way this particular sentence makes this story amazing.
Okay so many of you know about Ramadan, the month in the islamic calander where every muslim who’s not travelling, pregnant, breastfeeding, diabetic or on their period or is ill or elderly has to fast from dawn until sunset and refrain from smoking, sex, swearing, etc. Instead of sending everyone I follow what I would like them to tag as #nsfr (not safe for ramadan), here is a list of things to tag:
food
nudes/ nsfw
kissing/ pda
smoking
bad language
I’d appreciate it if people reblog this so every muslim doesn’t have to ask the 400+ blogs they follow to tag stuff. Thanks!
This year it’s gonna fall on June 6th to July 6th, I believe :)
“why aren’t u talking abt this one Problematic thing involving that actor/show u like??”
listen. i am tired. im putting down my pitchfork. i’ll acknowledge that thing was bad if it was but im tired of vilifying ppl for their mistakes just bc they’re famous. i want to enjoy things. i want Peace
For a long time I was second guessing everything I liked because they did this or that wrong, the actors did this, the writers did that, they left out this or ignored that… It’s just too much.
It’s just so tiring. Acknowledge where they can do better, but give yourself a break for the things you like. No one is perfect and you can like things that aren’t perfect.
one of the many things I super love about Deadpool is that they treat negasonic teenage warhead like a teenager, sure she has awesome as fuck superpowers but she doesn’t have any sort of romantic hints, she isn’t irresponsible with her powers, she has a guardian with her when she does her (awesome) dangerous shit, she is most definitly not treated like a child, but she is also not treated like an adult, she has a responsible guardian with her when necessary who even tries to feed her protein bars, I think that hollywood tends to forget that there is an in between stage, that teenagers do exist and need to be represented as something other than unrealistically mature or unrealistically immature
as a general rule if you see some “cool trick” on the internet that involves combining chlorine of any form (including bleach or tablets) with anything else, you shouldn’t do it because they are almost definitely trying to seriously hurt or kill people who don’t know any better. things like mixing bleach with other “household cleaning supplies” are especially huge red flags–it sounds harmless, but the chemicals in these things react to create extremely toxic gas, or worse
stuff like that almost universally comes from places like 4chan where it’s fun and cool to misinform people in the most dangerous possible ways, and it’s nothing short of evil that people use something as incredible as the internet to literally kill strangers for no reason
you would not believe the amount of responses i’ve gotten to this post that amount to “if they’re dumb enough to follow those instructions they deserve to die” and even “it’s hilarious when idiots do this"
y'all know that these are real living people right? that there are very real people, including minors, including young children and teenagers, that are being harmed by this. this isn’t a hypothetical. this isn’t fun and games. if your response to this shit is “they deserved it”, or “who cares about idiots who do this”, you are completely lacking in any kind of human compassion and i’d appreciate it if you kept your hateful comments to yourself. i’m sick of reading them.
NO ONE deserves to be hospitalized or literally be killed because some jackass on the internet thought it’d be fun to anonymously hurt strangers on purpose. when someone is given dangerous instructions to create toxic gas under the guise of a fun harmless experiment and decides to try it, it’s not their fault for being tricked–it’s absolutely the fault of the people giving them that information. it’s completely malicious intent on their part and the fact that so many of y'all find that behavior excusable in any way is disgusting
literally thousands of people are accidentally exposed to chlorine gas every year (over 6000 in 2014), and even chlorine gas exposures as low as 3ppm can cause “extreme irritation of the eyes and respiratory tract”. concentrations above 30 ppm are a lot more severe and can result in hospitalization, and above that there’s a risk for permanent lifelong respiratory damage, and potentially death. it’s uncertain exactly how concentrated the chlorine gas created from tricks like the ones i mentioned would be, but many of them do include directions like “blowing on it to increase the reaction”, which means victims will have their face very close to the solution and inhaling it directly–which is very very bad.
it’s especially bad because minors who are exposed to this shit are both more likely to fall for it (because they do not have the life experience to know better) and more likely to suffer severe damage due to their physiology.
i made this post as a warning and to help people who didn’t know not to mix these things. i have had multiple people–even adults–thank me for this post because they hadn’t learned this yet. i’m glad that it’s gotten that information out there. but the amount of people condemning me and mocking me for daring to giving a shit about other living breathing human beings is completely abhorrent and i’m sick of it
so yeah. don’t mix household cleaners together. don’t mix bleach with literally anything that isn’t just water. don’t follow directions that ever tell you to use these things, because there are absolutely terrible people on the internet and you deserve to be safe.
Percy’s neutral expression is a natural brooding look that he gets from Poseidon
That when he does smile it’s crooked and makes him look like a trouble maker
When he talks it’s usually very sarcastic and/or impertinent
His inner monologue is actually very negative and while we, as the readers, take it as a joke he’s usually pretty pessimistic for a good portion of the time
That when he’s fighting his expression is fierce and is hard to tell whether he is the good guy or not
That Leo Valdez equated Percy’s angry expression to the feeling he gets when Jason is about to shoot lightning. Let me repeat - just the look on Percy’s face when he’s angry was considered on par to Jason controlling flipping lightning
That he’s very very vindictive and loyal only to those he considers his friends and once you lose his trust it is nearly impossible to earn back
That while he had the curse of achilles, he laughed crazily while he was single handedly destroying hordes of monsters
He made an entire volcano erupt, awakened a giant, and almost wiped out the northwest of the united states
He tortured a godess just so she would feel his misery
That he’s actually very manipulative and it made Annabeth step back for a moment and reevaluate her perception of him
That while his dark side came to it’s peak in house of hades and wasn’t mentioned in blood of olympus, there was no confirmation that it suddenly and completely disappeared after they left Tartarus.
Has been the child of the prophecy twice.
He manipulated Bob to kill his own brother by simply convincing him that they were friends and that is what friends did for each other
He was physically abused by his step father
That with absolutely no training at all he killed the minotaur with it’s own horn at the mere age of twelve
He wins a good majority of his fights by simply outsmarting his opponent
He has scared not only Annabeth but his friends and peers on more than one occasion with his attitude and powers
That he’s considered extremely powerful for a demigod and for a child of the big three and makes the gods slightly nervous
That when he’s upset his powers act to mimic his emotions without him even trying
Has been offered immortality
That he is actually really sorta intimidating without trying
That we need to stop reducing Percy’s character to a happy-go-lucky comic relief goofball that doesn’t know his left foot from right because he is so much more than that
Everyone looks at Percy like the stereotypical hero that loves everything and puppies and rainbows but he’s actually very dark and quite scary and that’s why all the Dark!Percy AU’s aren’t really that far from the real Percy, he’s just on a different team.
Also, anyone who places Percy into anything but Slytherin is very wrong. #7 on this list is practically proclaiming his belonging to the house of the snakes.
Marry me
If anyone ever tells me that they just ‘don’t see’ Percy being like that (i.e. dark and scary), I just ask them one thing: “What do you think Percy would’ve done if Annabeth was taken instead of him, by Hera?”
Answers range from “Tear Olympus to the ground with his bare hands.”, “Snap Zeus’ neck and yell a lot.”, “Find where she is in a matter of days and never help the gods again, ever.”, and “Probably torture Hera in his basement until she tells him what she did to his Wise Girl.”
You can almost see the burning realization in their eyes that they finally recognize that he’s a terrifying soldier who’ll brutally murder people, gods, and monsters, if need be.
I 100% believe that monsters are somewhat, if not extremely, scared of Perseus Jackson. They probably tell ghost stories about him at night. The more intelligent ones probably decide not to attack him if they sense his aura in the area, because they want to live. He’s probably known to them as the new Hercules or whatever, known for never losing a fight against a monster, and defeating Kronos (they probably aren’t aware of Luke’s sacrifice I think).
And if you don’t think that part of the reason Zeus hates/hated Percy, was because he didn’t like how powerful this son of Poseidon was, then I recommend you go reread the series. If you haven’t noticed that the gods render Percy in just a little higher light than other demigods (he’s allowed to say pretty much whatever he wants, like stuff that would make them try to murder anyone else within seconds), you should know, that they know he’s dangerous.
I firmly believe that the gods call him their ‘weapon’ at strategy meetings (especially Athena, who doesn’t want to personify the sea scum dating her favorite daughter), the wild card pick. They have to value him, and I’d bet you anything that Poseidon’s ‘check-ins’ had an underlying tone of making sure that Percy wasn’t resentful towards the gods ever again, after having the whole Luke fiasco.
I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if some minor gods were stationed to randomly make sure that Annabeth wasn’t going to get hurt too badly, or kidnapped, when she was out on her own, because nobody wanted Percy to destroy a few countries over her.
There has to be a darkness in any human being who’s gone through what Percy has, and the fact that he can still joke around, and laugh and kiss his girlfriend at the end of the day, makes him all that much more scarier. I’d appreciate it if the fandom would start to realize these things, and I would’ve really appreciated it if Rick Riordan had but it’s too late for that now.
(Sorry for the long post anyone not in the HoO or PJO fandom.)
whenever I feel bad about having a weird name I remind myself that C.S. Lewis’ middle name was Staples
When I was a kid, one of my family members quoted the first line of Dawn Treader—“There was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it"—and I said, “Brave words from a man whose name was Clive Staples Lewis,” and my mom lost it.
