letmehaveaurl - Tumblr blog

[letmehaveaurl]

I literally taught myself to digitally paint just for this meme because none of yall can tell me his smile does not remind you of that cat meme. This is also available as throw pillows, mugs, and stickers on my redbubble account!

[letmehaveaurl]

And if you call me “young man” one more time, I’m gonna put your head through that damn wall.

[letmehaveaurl]

“how is it so easy for you to be kind to people?” he asked. milk and honey dripped from my lips as i answered: “because people have not been kind to me.” — rupi kaur, milk and honey.

[letmehaveaurl]

i’ve done unimaginable things — things you couldn’t even comprehend — just to get back here and save you all. now i’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision.

[letmehaveaurl]

#yeet

[letmehaveaurl]

“Foggy weather. What century is it? What era? Everything’s shattered, delirious. The people, as if they’d been taken apart.”

— Andrei Voznesensky, “Foggy Street” (via moronthehound)

[letmehaveaurl]

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY CHARACTER? (an ask game!)

Understanding a character’s flaws is key to making them well-rounded and believable, so send me a number (and a character, if there’s more than one option) and I’ll tell you:

a trait they have too much of  (ex. too much pride = arrogance)

a trait they don’t have enough of (ex. too little pride = insecurity)

a trait they express in the wrong way

a trait they’re ashamed of

a trait they’re not ashamed of (but maybe should be)

a bad habit

something they do that hurts themself

something they do that hurts others

a reason (or excuse) they haven’t improved on any of the above OR

a way that they are improving on any of the above!

[letmehaveaurl]

In which Ellwood introduces yet another character

Answers to: Tune, Tooney, variants on the theme

Looks like: Just a bag of bones. A real gangly individual. Cheekbones for days and elbows up to here. One(1) extra joint per finger.

Also floppy red hair and a big ol' smack of freckles* across the nose.

Occupation: voluntary exile/ space explorer.

Fun facts: People on Tooney's planet typically only live 5-6 years, and Tooney is "A year and change."

Of course, Tooney's planet also has 73 hour days arranged into ten 204 day months per year. In earth-centric terms, Tooney is between 23 and 24.

Tooney's planet also never did figure out combustion engines. They did manage to figure out nuclear power, though, along with electricity and using magnets to hurl metal objects very, very fast. Tooney carries a backpack railgun.

* They glow under blacklight!

[letmehaveaurl]

v. Whisky and cigars

The city smells like rot, like brackish floodwaters and disease. It bothers him less than the ozone reek that comes from walls of light, or the rancid scent of whale oil let sit too long before burning.

Where have the whales gone? Ask the people in the street, but not What did the whales eat, down in the dark? and not What ate the whales?

( men, mostly. Crawforde remembers the taste of blood and fat, the deep red of the steaming meat, but even that was on the deck of a ship. )

The boys think he was a sailor. Crawforde had said he came from the sea, and he had. He knows enough of knots and sailing to be useful for their purposes, and beyond that most of them don’t pry.

The ones that do, that watch him trade his allotment of elixir for cigars or poke amongst the dead, watch him for signs of a sickness that will not come and grip their charms closer. He hears them singing in the night, the charms and not the men, like he hears the singing of the little shrines.

Neither bother him much, except in that they remind him of deeper places and cleaner waters.

Still, he is here now, in this drowning city where the blood runs in the street. Might as well bend his head and get the work done.

[letmehaveaurl]

The arithmetic of lives

The first one of them to get hurt-- really hurt, not just the odd scrape or bruised knuckles while saving lives-- was Diego.

Reginald had a whole speech about it. The dangers of wasting your powers trying to fill roles you are not suited for-- what is the point, number two, or damaging yourself in a close-quarters confrontation when your purpose is ranged support? Your physical prowess will never match that of number one, and it is a waste of time and resources to attempt to do so.

It was the most he'd said to them in weeks.

After that were the lessons in the arithmetic of lives. This many civilians in danger are worth letting a villain escape, that many villains are worth letting someone get hurt. There aren't any lessons on how many lives it takes to cancel out a Hargreeve, and they don't ask for them. ( they understand, in some way, that the price will be too high )

It makes it easier, later.

They're 12, on another bank job, and everything is going fine. Until it isn't. Until the back door cracks open and the seventh man comes out. Long before Five learns to warp time, he see it in slow motion. Too far for Vanya or Luther, not enough time to call Diego as the gun swings up, Ben turning too slow towards the sound of the door.

Arithmetic and action.

Jump to get one of Diego's discarded knives. Jump to the man, hear the wet sound as it sinks into him. Jump away before the blood gets on him.

No one notices. Not then, or when he holds Ben's hand too-tight all the way home, or when he locks himself in the bathroom at home and watches water run over his hands until the heat runs out.

When they come to him in that barren wasteland with an offer to spill blood in exchange for the knowledge he needs to move though time, his mind is made the second he knows they're real. He'd done the math, over and over again, and the numbers are the same. The price for a Hargreeve is high, but he price for all of them is worth more blood than he could ever spill.

And he's good at it. The math, the watching for the focus point of greatest change, the calm execution.

Arithmetic and action.

[letmehaveaurl]

C4 can feel the point where the point where the ~hero~ of the week ratchets his arm behind his back as far as it will go and then a little farther. Even if he couldn't, the faintly puzzled noise of a man who expected a scream and didn't get one is distinctive enough.

There's a pause as the goon flexes his toes in his shoes and his free hand on the lid of the crate he's half tilted over, running arithmetic on how fast and far his current employer can get for every minute he stalls them up here. Not fast and far enough, probably, but he's paid half in advance, and that's enough to try.

"Argh." He says, and then "Argh." again for good measure.

It's not very good, but it's enough to get the ~hero~ to start asking questions again, and for C4 to go back to looking around for where his hat ended up. ( the cigar, unfortunately, is a total loss. ) Be easier if the rest of the group would race off instead of poking though the sacrificial goons groaning on the floor and the half empty crates; but he supposes the whole point of this show is that they don't.

Doesn't mean he has to like looking at them.

[letmehaveaurl]

Hey here's a thought: thanks to being snapped back in time and back into a 13 year old body, there is now a significant enough age gap that Five is likely to outlive all his siblings again.

[letmehaveaurl]

Thinking about.. Klaus

[letmehaveaurl]

[letmehaveaurl]

honestly the only reason im not an old man is that i happen to have been born somewhat recently. other than that 

[letmehaveaurl]

sad disaster boy vs twitter

[letmehaveaurl]

Supervillains announcing their plans is actually a union thing so they can’t be sued for damages someone else may commit at the same time