#I HAD TO STOP MYSELF

[yenforfairytales]

Sure sure, Daniel has a bratty, sassy, flirty ‘Jersey’ side—but folks seem to forget just how sweet, earnest, naive, and innocent he was in the KK trilogy. One of my favourite scenes is in the first film at the start, when Daniel sees a dog in his flat complex and moments later fetches water for it—without being asked! What an angel. Anyway, this sweet innocence is probably why Terry had him totally blindsided for a while in KK3, and did it with such ease. And because Silverusso has always had my heart, let’s not forget this clueless, adorable Danny is exactly the one that piqued Terry’s demented, decades long obsession. That sweet and spicy combination is just so winning—along with the looks. I don’t blame Terry for being totally overwhelmed by the boy, it was inevitable. Terry Silver is the very definition of whipped. Lol.

Yes! Completely agree. Daniel is a perfect mix of tough but sweet. Slutty but innocent. It's a maddening blend.

He stands out. Unforgettable to everyone he's ever met even 35yrs later.

Oh, anon, are you me? Daniel giving the dog some water is one of my all time favorite scenes too!!

It's so subtle. Miyagi saw that in him. When he gifted Daniel the bonsai embroidery and Daniel said he'd understand if Miyagi ever wanted it back. And Miyagi smiled, "I know you understand." HUUUUU 😭 brb crying

There's other sweet examples, but Daniel is so thoughtful!! The most thoughtful and considerate.

Sure, his temper can override that sometimes, but even though he has attitude, he remains observant and so empathetic that he feels guilty about everything and can't sleep unless he apologizes.

That's a sensitive soul who never wanted to fight anyone and ended up constantly under attack. But look how much everyone loves him and will do anything for him. HIS LOVE SAVES PEOPLE. His forgiveness. He's truly a light.

Not to get off track but, another favorite innocent moment of mine is in kk2 when they're getting on the airplane and Daniel goes, "Airsick? What's airsick?!" :U

Just super loud and confused. Lmao

Again speaks to his innocence at that time. Maybe more Jersey street smarts than book smarts but the poor baby went through like a lifetime of maturity in one year because of the events of all three movies.

A little heartbreaking that CK Daniel is so... world weary. He's quieter. He's more observant. Meaning, he's more calculated in every interaction. Ten times smarter than when he was a kid.

I definitely blame Terry for that. He broke Daniel's heart. And according to Jessica, it took him some time to recover. (Although we know it was not completely)

Luckily for everyone, Daniel is such an angel that he never lost his sweetness or his instinct to help others even if he is cautious. He's willing to forgive but he tried his damndest to become people and business savvy as to never get hurt again.

He's intelligent. He's refined. He's a leader.

The irony that the parts of Daniel that Terry liked best he helped destroy. That trust and innocence. The irony that Terry was denied the forgiving nature of Daniel he knows is there because of his own actions.

Terry remembered that sweet, naive boy and imagined being forgiven right away and was legit shocked at Daniel's anger. Not necessarily at the rejection, but at Daniel's angerrr.

Daniel's comment about Terry being in a padded cell really struck a nerve.

I will say this - both men would not have such hurt and anger after 35 YEARS if there was no love involved at all.

The reason Daniel could forgive everyone else was because he never loved them. They were never friends.

He loved Terry. He mourned someone who never existed. And Terry wouldn't care so much about being forgiven if he felt nothing either.

THIS IS GETTING TOO ANGSTY I'M SORRY

One day someone will have to do a gifset of all the times Terry and Daniel eye-fucked each other in CK. There were so many secret smiles y'all.

I think they missed each other as much as they're mad at each other.

Anyway

This sweet innocence is probably why Terry had him totally blindsided for a while in KK3, and did it with such ease. And because Silverusso has always had my heart, let’s not forget this clueless, adorable Danny is exactly the one that piqued Terry’s demented, decades long obsession.

Let's think for a moment the picture that Kreese painted to Terry about this "punk kid" and his sensei.

Some prissy troublemaker that unfairly beat up the Cobra Kai students and made a fool of Kreese.

Then Terry meets Daniel and he's tiny and sweet and can barely meet Terry's eyes.

They spent months together. Terry's not stupid, he quickly learned the truth. He just desperately wanted to make Kreese happy.

And then years later, we see that Terry doesn't believe Kreese about the past anymore. He scoffs and rolls his eyes!

And if Terry was being honest with himself, he'd admit that he wanted to be a sensei(but couldn't because of his father's business) and loved having his own student. I and others think he was a little hurt when Daniel didn't want to be in Cobra Kai anymore and quit.

(Terry was like Bill in Kill Bill. "I... overreacted.")

That sweet and spicy combination is just so winning—along with the looks. I don’t blame Terry for being totally overwhelmed by the boy, it was inevitable.

Who wouldn't love having Daniel's full attention? Daniel was like... enamoured with everything about Terry. He did everything he said.

That's intoxicating.

Terry already thought of himself as godlike. Wealthy. Handsome. Powerful. Getting away with crimes and tricking this sweet young thing.

And then said sweet young thing looks up to you and hangs on your every word? AND he's actually a pretty good student, a fast learner?

BUT Daniel has enough attitude that he does give Terry a bit of a challenge. All the more sweeter for when Daniel eventually gives in. What fun!

Terry Silver is the very definition of whipped. Lol.

What is this?! Terry, explain!!!

Where were you going with this??

"That was beautiful!"

35 years later...

"You were powerful, free..."

Legit Terry would have done anything Daniel asked if he had been greeted with a warm reception in CK.

Lest you all forget! Terry was happy to see Daniel again. He was not happy to see Kreese.

Terry called Kreese his weakness because he was a weight around his neck and had to be removed. But Terry refused to get rid of Daniel, who all but jumped on Terry's back like a spider monkey and caused more trouble for Terry than Kreese ever did! Amazing!

I was going to say more about that and lost my train of thought.

Still waiting for the au where Daniel reigns in the righteous anger a bit and manipulates Terry to be on his side over Kreese's.

[allthe-queens-men]

Two of them

[luimagines]

Telepath Reader is just glad their half-baked plan worked and that Zelda is okay, even if the cost is being stuck in the infirmary with a wound that might scar. But hey, if it scars, that means cool story later, right?

Yeah... Time didn't agree with that one. Reader is getting scolded when Wars comes back.

"I'm sorry, I know it was stupid, but I was thinking fast." Reader winces as they shift. "At least Zelda is okay, right? No one important got hurt."

Wars isn't happy with the (unintentional, surely it must be) insinuation Reader isn't important.

Warrior can only clench his hands into fists by his side. There's a wayward cut on his cheek- the only evidence of the scuffle he had to ordeal.

Time notices, willing to lay off given at how upset Warrior sees to be at the whole ordeal.

"Captain?" He asks, just in case.

"I have a few words."

Time isn't happy with it either, but he leaves, willing to let Warrior do most of the talking from here on out.

Warrior gets close and sits down by the bed.

It's silent.

".."

"..."

".."

"...That was stupid."

"I know. Time was just drilling into me-"

"You got hurt." Warrior glares at the bandages around their chest. "What if he hit something vital?"

"But the princess-"

"Is prepared for this. It's not the first time it's happened." Warrior grits his teeth. his grip becomes tighter. Nails dig into his palms and his knuckles turn white.

"I could only react!" Reader growls out, agitating their injured lung. "What else do you want from me?"

"To be safe!"

"With these conditions?"

"My point exactly." Warrior tries to lower his voice. he knows he's not helping anyone. "Don't throw yourself right in front of the blade. He only just missed your heart. Then what?"

Reader pauses and grits their teeth as well. Unshed tears well in their eyes and they look away from the young man. They're being stubborn but in their heart they know they did the right thing. They're not going to apologize for it.

Warrior can see it and his heart cracks. "Just don't do it again. That's what I should have led with. I'm sorry."

[witchblade]

Sent text with an accidentally inserted exclamation mark and almost felt the need to apologize for it

[villanevehaus]

☕️ the ocean

there is nothing that i love more.

when asked about god, i talk about the sea. when asked about love, i talk about the sea. when asked about anything, i talk about the sea. i have written so much about the ocean and i will never run out of things to say.

every time that i am given the opportunity to touch salt water, i take my shoes off and wade in as far as i can. i am the first one into the water and the last one out. i have been extremely fortunate to have touched the pacific, atlantic, and indian oceans and i desperately want to live somewhere where i could visit the sea easily and often. i want to go to the arctic and shock my system with ice water.

i love how expansive it is. i love how endlessly vast it is, with miles and miles and miles of nothing but water. i love the feeling of treading water and knowing with certainty that you will never see what's below you. i love tides, tide pools, ocean dropoffs, kelp forests, coral reefs, whalefalls, the deepest parts that are frigid and pitch black and still teeming with life- life that has adapted to an ecosystem that's closer to living in outer space than living on the surface.

i love the duality of gentleness and force. i love that there is no use in fighting with a wave, all you can do is submit to the power and depth that it moves with- uncaring of what's in its path. i love that there are hundred-foot swells. i love that in one instant you can feel like the smallest thing in the world and then in the next you can feel like a giant, hovering over creatures no bigger than your thumb. i love the sound of waves gently meeting the shore. i love driftwood, seaglass, fossils.

i love that a blue whale's heart is the size of a car, and that an animal of that size exists at the same time as me, on the same planet as me. i love sharks, oh how i adore sharks. i love that the nautilus has remained virtually unchanged through five major extinctions. i love that an octopus will gently circulate water around her eggs until the moment she dies, unable to leave them to feed herself for even a moment.

i love how much symbiosis exists in the sea. i love how much trickery, mimcry, cunning exists in the sea. i love the boundless complexities of so many lives being lived by so many organisms at once.

there is nothing i love more.

send me ☕️ + [topic] and i’ll tell you my opinion on it!

[minjimunji]

Obligatory battle of the labyrinth kiss scene

Bonus:

[insanityisdivine]

When the smut develops

feelings...oh no

[vulturevanity]

Do you think Guildmaster Wigglytuff and Chatot ever explor-- *gets mauled to death by a horde of Kecleon*

[lazylittledragon]

bg3 x taskmaster filed under 'things that are funny to me and nobody else'

[millkyyo]

I smiled like a stupid dork looking at an Ace edit in public

[cyborgrhodey]

regina spektor is a violent zionist, but i don't think it's constructive or honest at all for people to be like "well her art was always bad anyway." some terrible people have made great art. This idea that artists with unsavory morals can't make good art (1) only feeds into some people's mindset that if they dislike something, that MUST mean there is something ideologically wrong with it, and (2) some people then take longer to realize the true colors of their favorite artists because... good artists can't be ethically bad right?? and so they hang on to their faves and pretend they are so righteous and defend their every move when sometimes. sometimes you just gotta accept that your favorite art was made by somebody you don't agree with, and you have to identify how much you are willing to support someone like that and what lines you have that can't be crossed

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[aestetet]

bad like a barbie

[hinamie]

all i have left

[hajihiko]

💕