Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

Anonymous asked: Yes to your Jake headcanon. 'Big Jake' to me always meant that he was broad shouldered and tall and just solid (which means Tom was probably even taller if he called him midget but that could have also been a big brother teasing thing). No offense to anyone if they want to headcanon Jake as being chubby, but that's not how I interepreted his nickname at all.

I have read some EXCELLENT chubby Jake headcanons and I’m here for it, tbqh, but yeah, IDK I knew a lot of just…really big dudes when I was younger, the gentle giant types who seem kind of bemused by being the size of a fridge.  And Jake always struck me as the type of guy who seems kind of bemused about being so tall.  Also, who else is with me that Tom used to call Jake midget because Jake was shorter than him as a kid and then Tom got infested with a Yeerk and the Yeerk never changed the nickname even though by the end of the war Jake is three inches taller than his big brother.  Obviously in an AU where Everything Is Okay this means that Tom calls Jake midget as like an ongoing family inside joke that makes people very confused because Jake is Tall.

Anonymous asked: I am really glad about your tags on that mom post you did. Everyone is always ragging on me because I do t talk to my mother, but they don't understand how shitty she is. And things like you said just help me not feel super shitty as well. Thank you.

Listen, honey, let me tell you a story about my family.  First of all, my mom and dad are the kindest, most generous, best people I have ever had the privilege to know, and I am grateful every day for their presence in my life.  

That being said.

My Yaya, my mom’s mom, used to leave bruises on me and convince me that I was insane, and that’s nothing compared to what she did to my mother.  She has caused directly four (five?) nervous breakdowns in my cousins, and drove one to the point where he called his sister to come keep an eye on him in case he tried to kill himself.  My Nana, my dad’s mom, is a decent person, or could be if she didn’t stand idly by while her husband turns violent and aggressive.  He’s a bitter, cruel, misogynist old man, and the shit they are literally right now putting my father through makes me see red.  I could gladly punch any of them in the face.  My response to hearing that Yaya has kicked the bucket will be literal tears of relief, followed by copious amounts of alcohol.  The best I can hope for is to be ignored, and I have resigned myself to that, but my god am I ready to be done with their shit.

So here’s the point to this unnecessarily personal rant: you’re doing right by yourself, and that’s what matters.  You looked at your situation and chose life over limb, and I’m really, really proud of you for it.  That is a brave thing to do and the only people who understand that are the people who are in the same situation.  

Family isn’t supposed to hurt like this.  You are doing the right thing.

menderash:

paper-mario-wiki:

menderash:

paper-mario-wiki:

i follow a blog that is 100% dedicated to animorphs.

idk if that person is in a mutual with me, but im gonna ask this because you talk about it a lot:

how is marco bi? also, who is marco? what animal does he turn in to?
im so fucking confused about all of your posts and ive never seen or read animorphs in my life but im not gonna unfollow you because you are just so passionate about it and i want to know why it drives you so wild.

is it me ur looking for???

yeah whats the deal dude

steeples my fingers and looks at you seriously

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cariefisherr:

There were countless Princess Leia posters at the march today, young girls walking around in her iconic buns. I think this is the importance of film. Because if a character stands among protesters at a march of resistance and unity and hope, it means something. Art has power and we need it now more than ever, I just wish Carrie Fisher could see all she’s inspired.

(via skymurdock)

the power goes out in the fray

For @littlestartopaz: What would have happened if Leia was sent to Tatooine and Luke to Alderaan?

This sounds like an excuse for my very favorite thing: blatantly strong-in-the-Force Jedi Leia. I was gonna do headcanons but instead HERE is the first scene of Leia Skywalker of Tatooine finding some old asshole in a brown robe.  *backflips out*

Leia scowled at the old man—Ben Kenobi, her ass—and the droid at her knee warbled happily.

“You lied,” Leia said.  The sweet-faced boy draped in white robes on the recording had asked for an Obi-wan, but Kenobi’s aren’t exactly a dime a dozen since the old homestead was annihilated by the Tuskens.  She can do the math.

“From a certain point of view,” Kenobi said with a shrug, smiling down at the droid.

“The boy on the recording–”

[Prince Luke Organa of Alderaan] the droid offered.

“—very helpful, thanks, Prince Luke said you were his only hope,” Leia said, prowling forward.  “What exactly qualifies you for that, old man?”

Kenobi looked up at her with a start at that, blinking pale blue eyes at her, and gave a brittle half-laugh.  “You’re very much like your father, when I knew him,” he said distantly.  And then he launched into an epic tale about Jedi and her father and Leia stood, feeling shock shiver through her.  She had known that her father was a general, but a Jedi?

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Anonymous asked: im so glad ive found someone who is also committed to erik and charles's tragic friendship i have been alone for so long

*tosses aside all other obligations* MY NEW BUDDY, I AM SO COMMITTED.  I just.  I’ve been a devotee of the tragic friendship since I was seven years old, okay, I’m not going to just wake up one day a shipper, and the tragic friendship is SO GOOD, Christ.  Help me.  And since I am SO UNSPEAKABLY THRILLED to have someone in my inbox talking to me about the tragic friendship, I had to figure out a way to show my appreciation, so HERE HAVE A FIC.  I rustled up an old request from this prompt list at the start of the summer, so @littlestartopaz sorry it took me like six months.  Also this is like long as fuck, taking place in the same movie-comics bastardization universe as the limitations of wax as an adhesive, so I’ll probably crosspost it to AO3.

Alone in the Light

X - Charles/Magneto friendship  (“You’re the only one I trust to do this.”)

Erik was asleep.  Charles couldn’t feel his mind—was the man sleeping in that helmet now?  But even Erik Lensherr needed sleep and a cursory sweep through the outermost thoughts of Erik’s Brotherhood answered the question of his location.

I’m sorry, Charles told the girl whose mind he was brushing up against. She was young, a recent recruit, bilingual, with the keening, perpetually frightened mind of someone not in control of their powers.  Gentle, he assessed as he pushed further into her mind, reaching to speak with her. Not made for this violence.  No true animosity against humans, but nowhere else to go, either.  A missing twin brother?  I’m so sorry, Wanda, I need to speak with him.

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lathori asked: ♫ Billy/Colin (it didn't say it couldn't be one of YOUR ships)

You are correct, I did not say that.  But you realize that now I have to EXPLAIN this shit, right?

Okay, so, Billy Johr and Colin Ramsey are from my novel Falls the Shadow, which is the 350 page monstrosity I wrote during sophomore year and which I am now editing to be sent out to an agent.  Short version: Sam Lightworth, their pseudo-adopted daughter (they’re the two Witnesses), is the Antichrist and Horseman of Death, and her brother Oz, their pseudo-adopted son, is the Horseman of Pestilence.  War and Famine are kicking around too, but they don’t really matter as much here.  The POINT is that Billy and Colin accidentally raised an Antichrist and the world barely missed ending.  That’s it, that’s the book.  And then…well.  Billy and Colin.  They are canonically in love, and have been since they hunted together as twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings.  Billy, now sixty-three and no longer spry enough to hunt himself, is an archivist and weaponeer for every hunter of supernatural things.  And the now-sixty Colin…well, Colin’s a Catholic priest…so…they’re not together and they never will be.  And Adler is never going to forgive me for that.  I’m sorry.  Please don’t hunt me with torches.

I put my music on shuffle and got I’m So Sorry by Imagine Dragons and…um…yeah, actually, this is a snippet from while the Almostpocalypse was happening.  I’m…so sorry.

“Preacher,” Billy said quietly, and Colin didn’t look at him, still standing at the edge of the porch and staring down the road.  He didn’t need to look to know that Billy would step forward, stand next to him until their shoulders pressed together, the once-red hair steely in the corner of his vision.  Billy was a broad, solid warmth at his side, half a head taller and steady as ages, and Colin let their shoulders bump together, acknowledgement that he was there.

“Did you hear it?” he asked, barely more than a murmur, and Billy nodded slowly beside him, looking out in the same direction—south, to Nevada, to where the Horsemen were, miles and hours away.  The scream had come from nowhere, from everywhere, like standing directly beneath a roll of thunder, but the voice had been Sam’s.  “The others,” Colin said, almost blank.

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Thoughts on Soulmates in PotC

OKAY, so, I have an overwhelming need for soulmate AU’s of every-damn-thing and a love for Elizabeth Swann that burns like fucking Greek fire, so of course we were going to end up here eventually.  

• There are three people in the world who could be Elizabeth Swann’s soulmate.  Depending on your AU of choice, these are the three people who see color when they meet her or have her name or first words printed on their skin or what have you.  All of them are in love with her.
  
• Commodore James Norrington knew when he was a teenaged, freshly-minted Navy officer, meeting a nine-year-old girl with solemn eyes and a pretty, lilting voice, that he was going to love her.  When she was seventeen he was in love with the coiffed, well-heeled mask she wore, completely gone on her.  He was horror-stricken to find that he loved the steely, vicious creature of sea and storm underneath even more.  If he has a mark, it rings his wrists like cuffs, because for all that he might love her, James isn’t a pirate at heart, and being chained to one kills him as sure as a sword.
• Will Turner loves the flashes of gentleness through her fire-bright shell, the way she always sounds startled when she laughs, the way she holds his face in her hands–gentle, like he’s made of crystal, but hard and immovable as steel.  Will’s mark, if this is a universe with marks, lies like a necklace at his throat, close to the curve of his neck.  He thought of it as a necklace, before he met her, before he knew her well.  Now he thinks of it as a collar, a mark of ownership–he is Elizabeth’s, full stop, hers to keep, and he has come to love being kept by her.
• Captain Jack Sparrow loves the heart of her, as hungry and dangerous as a fire at sea, loves her for the glint of lust in her eye when she looks at a fine ship or a sharp sword or a gold ring, or Will or James or Jack–the glint of wanting, of greed, of that is mine and I shall have it.  When he looks back on it, remembering, he thinks that he fell in love with her when she burned the rum, and the flame in her eyes was brighter than the flame on the sand.  His mark, if such exists, stretches across his shoulders, like wings, like lash marks, like a weight that makes free.
• Elizabeth cares for them all, loves them all in a way, but none of them can be everything to her, the way a soulmate is supposed to be.  None of them is the world entire, none of them is the ocean from horizon to horizon, and nothing less will satisfy her.
• Elizabeth has no mark, if this is a world with marks.  Or perhaps she does–a skull and crossbones, a coiling ocean current, the brand of a pirate, the words ‘Gentlemen, hoist the colors’ in bold black letters across her fair skin.  
• If this is a world where your soulmate’s touch stains your skin with colors, the three men are splashed with cerulean, azure-emerald-silver, and Elizabeth’s skin is clear.  Until she faints over the edge of a cliff and plunges into the ocean below, and she is drawn out with her skin swirled with ocean-blue, coiling down her limbs and over her heart, arching over her cheeks and around her eyes.
• If this is a world where you see color when you meet your soulmate, she grows up with it, and the colors always flare brightest when she stands at the bow of a ship and looks toward the horizon, where the water and the sky kiss.
• (There is a fourth soulmate for Elizabeth Swann, a fourth body stamped with a simple name, no matter the universe.  This one, perhaps, is the truest soulmate.  Tia Dalma, Calypso, Oceana, the queen bound in her bones, wears the name on her mortal form, and whenever Elizabeth steps onto the deck of a ship, the woman-goddess smiles, slow and secret.)
  
• (Every queen must have a king, after all.  And Dalma-Calypso-Oceana is proud of her king, straight and proud and fierce as a sword of folded steel.  She loves her king like a hurricane loves a ship, like her king loves her lovers, hungry and desirous.  Her love is blessing and curse by turns–her king’s ship has sweet winds and raging storms, blazes into Navy flotillas and skates away by a finger’s length.  Her king stands in the winds and laughs and laughs, fierce and wild and free, and so, so in love.)

ghostdog401 asked: (and part 2!) The thought and the amazing way you tied in R's art skills to his superpower was FANTASTIC! I LOVED IT! Not to mention your other writings are just fantastic! You got me hooked with your Avatar AU and reeled me in with your Reincarnation AU and I think at this point I might as well just admitted that I've been caught, because DANG your writing is truly an inspiration! And I love it! I can't wait to see more from you! Because everything is just so creative & original & I can't wait!

Oh my God how is everyone SO N I C E what do I do with you guys?  I am so delighted that you enjoy my writing, I am not a person easily flustered and you guys have me coming over like a freaking Southern belle.