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do u know where i could find the xtra content nora made? i think she herself deleted it but does anyone have it anymore??

its still there -maz

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i was reading about the myth of prometheus today when the phrase "new liver, same eagles" popped into my mind, so i'm keeping that in mind for the next time someone asks me how it's going

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Go ahead, try and convince me that canon Bakugou wouldn’t pull this shit.

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Here is a tiger just going about life until this human gives it the fright of its life. Still cute af. Dream job to be honest. 17/10 would be such an honor to pet

more animals rated here

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Why Marichat is the key to Love Square happiness (aka, I’ve thought about this too much)

(contains season 2 spoilers)

I ship every side of the Love Square, however, Marichat is the best. Here’s why.

Adrien is constricted by his father’s expectations of him, his public persona and his desire to be a ‘normal’ teenager. As Chat Noir, he is free to be himself and shows a more carefree side of his personality. 

Marinette can’t be herself in front of Adrien, which makes Adrienette problematic. She is too conscious of herself and her crush on him to allow herself to relax and just be the fiesty, caring Marinette that her other classmates know and love. The thing is, during the times that she does manage it (e.g. in Gamer), she and Adrien are comfortable with each other and we can see how they’d be great together. It’s short-lived, though, she inevitably ends up tripping over her words and it gets awkward.

Ladrien is the ship of blushes. The two are so caught up in their crushes on each other that all they can do is stutter and stare. It’s cute, and those kids are pure sunshine, but they’re too shy around each other to make any move.

Ladynoir has two main obstacles; Cat Noir’s crush and Ladybug’s sense of responsibility. Chat lets his feelings for Ladybug cloud his judgement (oh hai huffy Chat Noir in Glaciator, I’m looking at you). Whether he’s trying to impress her, seduce her or blame her for not reciprocating his feelings, he has an ulterior motive in the way acts around her. It took him confessing his feelings about Ladybug to Marinette for her to truly understand the depths of his feelings. 

Heartbreakingly, Ladybug’s sense of responsibility as a superhero prevents her from completely opening up to Chat Noir. As Ladybug, Marinette is restricted by her sense of duty. Her main priority is defending Paris, catching Hawkmoth and protecting those she loves by keeping her identity a secret. Her knowledge of what would happen if Hawkmoth got his hands on the miraculouses is a massive burden on her. She fears the concequences of being herself aroung Chat.

Marichat is the only pairing that allows Adrien and Marinette to be completely themselves. They can be honest with each other and enjoy each other’s company without expectation or fear of embarrassing themselves.

Ladybug trusts Chat. As Marinette, she can show him that without feeling like she’s leading him on, or worrying that she’ll accidentally reveal a detail to him that might betray her identity. Adrien thinks of Marinette as a great friend and is able to spend time in her company and truly get to know her without her clamming up, tripping over her own feet and running away.

These two gorgeous humans can flirt with each other, talk freely and generally enjoy friendship as Marichat. They are able to joke with and mock each other with no hard feelings (see: sassy Marinette in Evillustrator). They have the potential to become real friends.

I honestly believe that for any side of the Love Square to become an actual romantic, reciprocal relationship, all sides need to care affectionately for each other. The final step in rounding out the square is Marichat - they are the key to it all. Glaciator has moved us closer to that than any other single episode (I’m still crying, it was gold). 

So, to sum up… more Marichat, please!

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sometimes I think about how Marinette's correlation with the power of Creation is very one to one and obvious, because she's an artist. She's extremely creative, not just in her hobbies but also in how she thinks. She creates things all the time, drawing and crafting and sewing, etc. Of COURSE she represents the power of creation. It's just obvious.

but Adrien? When you think of Destruction, the first thing that comes to mind is usually something violent or, you know, destructive. But Adrien isn't like that. Instead, the way he seems to represent destruction is through...... freedom. Destroying the chains. Breaking the prison bars of his home life. Breaking free of the expectations and ways people see him in order to express himself in the way he sees fit.

Nobody can stop Marinette from creating. And if you try to hold Adrien back..... he will break free.

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I made this stupid joke for my own character and figured it’d work well for Anakin, master of losing things.

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Me meeting a genie: Okay, so my first wish is for 1000 dollars a day, deposited to my bank account without any way of tracing it to anything illegal. I want this money to come from the ten richest people in America (100 dollars each), withdrawn under the guise of nebulous, random purchases and surcharges. It would probably be best to split the money into a myriad of smaller fees, though, to reduce the likelihood of anyone noticing. Got all that?

Genie: um

Me, continuing on without a care: For my SECOND wish, I want you to give me the ability to learn any given phoneme, so that I can learn to pronounce new languages perfectly. If you're willing, it'd be nice if it were a little easier to memorize new languages too, but if that's not cool, I'm perfectly fine doing all the legwork myself I mostly just want to be capable of pronouncing things correctly.

Genie, now staring at me like I'm insane: ......okaaayyy?....

Me: For my third wish. I want to always have great ideas for gifts for people. Every birthday, every holiday, I want to be able to come up with something they'd really like, with enough time to actually get it for them.

Genie, just staring at me

Me: I can provide you with a written document if that would help.

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Team Miraculous PowerPoint Night!

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i mean, there’s typecasting

and then there’s playing a version of cinderella’s stepsister four times

four

separate

productions

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I honestly don’t understand why there aren’t more people who, when given the platform to discuss minimum wage, don’t simply distill it to the simplest of facts:

A forty hour work week is considered full time.

It’s considered as such because it takes up the amount of time we as a society have agreed should be considered the maximum work schedule required of an employee. (this, of course, does not always bear out practically, but just follow me here)

A person working the maximum amount of time required should earn enough for that labor to be able to survive. Phrased this way, I doubt even most conservatives could effectively argue against it, and out of the mouth of someone verbally deft enough to dance around the pathos-based jabs conservative pundits like to use to avoid actually debating, it could actually get opps thinking.

Therefore, if an employee is being paid less than [number of dollars needed for the post-tax total to pay for the basic necessities in a given area divided by forty] per hour, they are being ripped off and essentially having their labor, productivity, and profit generation value stolen by their employer.

Wages are a business expense, and if a company cannot afford to pay for its labor, it is by definition a failing business. A company stealing labor to stay afloat (without even touching those that do so simply to increase profit margins and/or management/executive pay/bonuses) is no more ethical than a failing construction company breaking into a lumber yard and stealing wood.

Our goal as a society should be to protect each other, especially those that most need protection, not to subsidize failing businesses whose owners could quite well subsidize them on their own.

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“I think of too many of my white graduate students at Harvard who somehow feel perfectly comfortable calling me by my first name, but feel reluctant to refer to my white male colleagues– even those junior to me– in the same way. And I think about how my black students almost always refer to me as ‘Professor Lawrence-Lightfoot’ even when I have known them a long time and urge them to be less formal. The title indicates their respect for me, but also their own feelings of self-respect, that part of them that gets mirrored in my eyes. And besides, if their mothers or grandmothers heard them call me by my first name, they would be embarrassed; they would think that they had not raised their children right. So I completely understand when one of them says to me (n response to my request that he call me Sara after we have worked together for years), ‘I’m sorry, that is not in my repertoire, Professor Lawrence-Lightfoot.’

  These private daily encounters with white and black students are punctuated by public moments– too numerous to recall– when the humiliation of being called by my first name seems to demand an explicit response; when I feel I must react to the assault not only for my own self-protection, but also in order to teach a lesson on respectful behavior. I regard these public encounters as ‘teachable moments.’ I make a choice to respond to them; a choice that I know will both help to shield me and render me more vulnerable.

A few years ago I was asked to speak at a conference at the University of Chicago, a meeting for social scientists and their graduate students about race, class, gender, and school achievement. The other speaker was Professor James Coleman, a distinguished sociologist, a white man several years my senior who was well known and highly regarded for his large-scale statistical studies on educational achievement. Both of us came to the conference well prepared and eager to convey our work to fellow scholars. The language of the occasion was full of the current rhetoric of our disciplines; focused, serious, sometimes esoteric and opaque. I say all this to indicate that there was nothing playful or casual about either of our presentations. Neither of us said anything that suggested informality or frivolity. 

When we had finished speaking, the moderator opened the floor for questions, and several hands shot up in the air. The first to speak was a middle-aged white man who identified himself as an advanced graduate student finishing his training at another prestigious university. He began, ‘I would like to address my question to both Professor Coleman and Sara…’ I could feel my heart racing, then my mind go blank. In fact, I could not even hear his question after he delivered the opening phrase. I saw there having a conversation with myself, feeling the same rage that my parents must have felt sixty years earlier in Jackson, Mississippi. How can this be? How can this guy call him ‘Professor’ and me ‘Sara’? And he has no clue about what he has done, how he has injured me. I’m not even sure that the others in the audience have heard what he just said; whether they’ve recognized the asymmetry, the assault. Somehow, I must have indicated to Jim Coleman (we were friends and colleagues) that I wanted to respond first. He must have seen the panic in my eyes and my shivering body. I heard my voice say very slowly, very clearly, ‘Because of the strange way you addressed both of us, “Professor Coleman and Sara,” I am not able to respond to your question. As a matter of fact,’ I say, leaning into the microphone, holding onto it for dear life, ‘I couldn’t even hear your question.’ The room was absolutely still. I was not sure that there were any people out there who had any idea how I was feeling, any idea that I was on fire. But my voice must have conveyed my pain, even if the cause was obscure to them. ‘Would you please repeat your question?’ I asked the man, who had by now slid halfway down his seat, and whose face revealed a mixture of pain and defiance. ‘And this time, would you ask it in a way that I will be able to hear it.’ …My ancestors were speaking, reminding me of my responsibility to teach this lesson of respect; reminding me that I deserved to be respected.” - Prof. Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot, Respect: An Exploration, Chapter 2

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Happy New Year! Starting the year with a Zuko sketch that got out of hand.

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Post canon Toph who doesn’t want to go back to her shitty parents so she just decides to stay in the Fire Nation and bum off Zuko’s hospitality.

Zuko’s like no, yeah, I totally get it, and just makes her one of his advisors. At first it’s just so she has a good excuse to stay but after the first meeting Toph storms out shouting about how EVERYONE was lying why would you even need to lie about what kind of tea you want??

Zuko: I mean they’re politicians.....but also who, and when, and in what way

They make a subtle Morse code system so Toph can warn him when someone is lying to him without tipping anyone off that she can sense lies.

Zuko gets a reputation for somehow being both extremely socially inept and yet somehow disgustingly perceptive?? You can’t get ANYTHING by him???

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Do u have any clingy Keith headcannons? Like we know Lance likes to cuddle but poor Keith not even realizing how much he'd been missing out on until Lance

sorry it took me a bit to respond!! have some dumbassery <3

the touches start with lance, as most things do

it's all in the name of rivalry, though! playing footsie under the table, intense thumb wars, arm wrestling, sparring sessions, fingers just barely brushing at the dinner table....typical rival stuff. you wouldn't get it

keith: i don't catch feelings easily.

lance, gently bumping his fist against keith's arm after a mission: sharp work, samurai ;-)

keith: thanks. i gotta go pick out a tux

lance once hooked his chin over keith's shoulder to get a better look at a new project that hunk was showing them, and then just stayed there for full two minutes. keith held his breath for most of them

lance, poking him in the cheek: dude, are you okay? you're burning up

keith, voice cracking: i'm fine

lance, chuckling to himself: yeah, you got that right

keith: what.

lance: what? nothing! your stupid mullet is getting in my face.

keith: you could just move?

lance: oh. do you want me to move?

keith: no.

lance:

keith: uh. i mean, whatever. i don’t care. do what you want.

hunk: ...are you two done yet? like, is it over?

the first time keith initiates the touch is right after a really scary battle, while they're still in their undersuits. he just desperately needs to feel another heart beating against his own, so he slumps his entire weight against lance. his heart has always been the loudest.

after that, they start hugging it out more often. whenever lance sees keith awkwardly hoovering around, he spreads his arms and goes "bring it in, emoboy", at which keith promptly shoots him a glare

(he still brings it in, though)

keith, head resting on lance's chest: how does your heart always beat so fast?

lance, chuckling nervously: there's probably something terribly wrong with me. don't think about it too hard

as time goes on, keith slowly grows more relaxed. he sits really close to lance at lunch, and leans his head against his shoulder during movie nights. pats him on the back after a work well done, and then just leaves his hand to rest right there, in between lance's shoulderblades

he keeps getting bolder with it, is what i'm saying

lance, after pinning keith down during training: that's how it's done, baby! say hello to the new master of hand to hand combat.

keith: are you joking?

lance: nope! how does it feel to be underneath me, mullet?

keith, slowly bringing his hands to rest on lance's waist: not so bad, actually.

lance:

keith:

lance: should we kiss now

keith: i mean it'd be wrong if we didn't

once they start dating, they hold hands a lot

lance, teasingly: this is kinda like the bonding moment

keith: you mean the one where you held my hand for twenty seconds and then i immidiately started falling for you? even though you barely remembered it the next day? that bonding moment?

lance: you seem upset. do you want me to cradle you in my arms about it?

sometimes when they read through the reports in the lounge together, lance will absently play with keith's fingers and kiss the spot right below his glove. keith just sits there, looking at him with that dumb soft smile and not getting any work done.

keith: hey lance

lance: hm?

keith: you were right. you really are a master of hand to hand

lance:

lance:

lance: that was so bad. i'm gonna kiss you senseless

lance doesn't get any work done after that, either