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#reblog someone elses
brucebocchi · 1 year
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after reading a bunch of classical literature i’ve decided to revive the concept of knighthood all by myself
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reunitedinterlude · 3 months
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dnp doing the choreographed eye contact (1, 2, 3)
bonus:
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gaddaboutgriffon · 2 months
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DPxDC #3 A Tale of Two Jacks.
What if Jack Fenton and Jack Drake were alternate universe versions of each other?
Things diverged a few generations back when the nightingales stayed true to their Monster hunter roots in the DP universe, but in the DC universe took the treasure from monsters lairs to build the family fortune and branch out into other businesses. And the last name changed to Drake a few generations before the other universe changed to Fenton. Also all the really powerful magical artifacts and weapons were hidden away in a secret basement Jack didn’t get around to showing Tim before he died.
Oh and I guess this sort of makes Tim and Danny counterparts. Though not quite as the Jacks each married a different woman. So half brothers, if you squint? Eh whatever.
Anyway this was inspired by @dcxdpdabbles prompt. https://www.tumblr.com/gaddaboutgriffon/756909205456388096/wait-isnt-tims-dad-also-named-jack-of-we-could
Where a Deaged to about 5ish years old Danny gets sent to Tim drake to take care of until it is safe for him to return to his home universe. This leads to a misunderstanding that Danny is Tim’s baby half brother. The DNA test would support it if Danny’s dna wasn’t all scrambled by the ghost zone portal.
So how do you guys think this all plays out?
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starrystevie · 4 months
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18+ | cw: public handjobs, coming in pants | crossposted on twitter
“are you okay?”
realistically, eddie knows the answer to steve’s question is no. he’s not okay. he’s sitting in a club booth hard as nails with a flush no doubt covering his whole body. he should say no, far from okay, but instead he says-
“yeah, of course im fine.”
steve brings the back of his hand to wipe at his brow, crinkling his eyebrows together in confusion as he flashes an all too well knowing smirk eddie’s way. 
“you sure?” he asks smartly, leaning over the table to grab his rum and coke. standing back up, he tilts his head. “you look a little… bothered.”
eddie narrows his eyes and looks back out to the dance floor to see the girl steve was just dancing with crossing her arms over her chest. she’s pretty, clearly thinking she was making headway with steve, probably making plans in her head about marriage and babies with freckled cheeks.
eddie sighs and slumps over the table, balances his head in his palm as he plants his elbow on the sticky table top. 
how is eddie supposed to tell him that no, he’s no where close to alright? his cock is leaking into his nice jeans and it’s all from the way steve looks as he grinds into a pretty girl. as he tilts his head back to let the neon lights bounce off his pretty sun kissed skin. as he threads a hand into his own sweaty hair to push it back off his forehead. as he threads a hand into her curly hair to keep her where he wants her. 
he has to stop thinking about it.
if he doesn’t, he’s going to cream his pants and that would make for an even worse evening. 
“im good, man. it’s just a little hot.”
steve nods absently as he sips at his drink, as he looks eddie dead in the eye. eddie sighs and steve smirks again. he’s well and truly fucked.
suddenly, steves sliding into the booth, arm coming up to rest behind eddie’s head. he sputters, floundering as steve gets closer, close enough that he can smell his sharp cologne mixed with sweat, a smell that drives him wild. 
“oh.” steve says simply.
eddie flicks his eyes up to meet steve’s to ask what he’s talking about only to find that he’s staring at his hard on. the humiliation that rushes through eddie must cloud his vision when he thinks he sees steve’s smirk get wider, all teeth like a wolf on the hunt.
“fuck.”
he’s been caught. eddie whispers the curse into the air of the crowded nightclub but steve still hears it. his fingers drop down to just barely graze eddie’s shoulder, causing him to shudder. 
steve huffs out a laugh. “looks like i was right, you are bothered.”
eddie groans and drops his head with his eyes closed. “yeah, yeah, laugh all you want.” if he was flushed earlier, it grows tenfold now. he can feel the heat emanating off of him, warm enough that he feels sick with it.
he wants a hole to open up and swallow him. he wants to run out the door and never look back, saying au revoir to the fairytale idea of ever being with steve. he wants to crawl into his bed and jerk himself off under his covers and think about how hot the humiliation is that runs through him when steve looks at him and-
“you want some help with that?”
eddie freezes. steve’s breath is hot against his ear as he leans down to yell over the music, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin, the fingers that were teasing along the very tip of eddie’s shoulder pressing more intently into him.
“…do i want some help with what?” he murmurs, sliding his eyes open to glance at steve as he pulls back.
there’s something electric that zings through him as their eyes meet. the lights flash and steve is covered in red, glinting off his teeth like he could go in for the kill.
eddie thinks, knows, that he’d let him if he really wanted to.
“your little problem. or well-” steve breaks off and makes a clear look down, trailing his eyes slowly over eddie before bringing them back up to eddie’s face. “maybe not so little, huh?”
eddie blanches, a whine escaping him without his permission, something high and thready from the back of his throat. it’s a miracle steve can even hear it, but he does, taking it as the ‘fuck yes’ answer that it’s meant to be and sliding his hand down to rest on eddie’s thigh.
steve’s fingers tighten around eddie’s leg as he nods, the pressure quick and intense and enough to have him whining once more, shoulder slumping forward. he’s going to black out, he just knows it. his head is getting all foggy in anticipation.
when he looks down and sees just how hard steve’s breathing too, his chest expanding in time with the increasing pressure of his fingers, it all clicks in eddie’s head. this isn’t just for him like he thought it was. this isn’t just helping with his maybe not so little problem.
this is for steve, too.
once he realizes it, he sees the same realization wash over steve and the floodgates open. there’s a hand cupping his cock over his jeans as steve pulls the table closer to cover what they’re doing. it’s so much so fast and eddie takes in a gasping breath.
steve’s scooting somehow even closer to eddie until they’re pressed together hip to hip, chest to chest, with lips hot against eddie’s ear once more. eddie briefly wonders what they must look like but it’s dark enough that people aren’t looking over. not really.
if they did look over, they’d see eddie with his mouth agape, shoulders and head hunched forward as his friend must be saying something over the music. they wouldn’t see a hand working deliciously over him. they wouldn’t see the tongue flitting out to play with his earrings. they wouldn’t hear the absolute filth that steve is whispering that brings eddie closer and closer to the brink.
“god, i can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” he says and eddie feels like he can’t breathe, his hips bucking forward to chase after an embarrassingly fast orgasm. “think if you come in your pants, you can get it up again when we leave? want you to fuck me into the mattress until i’m fucking crying, til i'm begging for it. think you can do that?”
it’s too much. eddie turns his head and looks at steve with his lip pulled between his teeth. “what about her?”
he doesn’t have to clarify, they both know who he’s talking about. steve grins again as he quickens his hand. watches as red lights and bliss pass over eddie’s face.
“just wanted to make you jealous,” he breathes out, “she has your hair, y’know? wanted to feel like it was you against me.”
steve’s hand grinds into him once more and then his fingers are finding their way around his length in the denim, stroking him quickly. it's a bit too dry and it kind of hurts but they both correctly guess that eddie loves it a bit too dry, a bit too painful.
eddie chokes, eyes squeezing together as he comes in his pants like a goddamn teenager.
“there you go,” steve murmurs pressing a featherlight hidden kiss to his temple.
eddie jolts his hips through the aftershocks, unable to hide the whimpers that escape him. he doesn’t care about it, can’t care about it, not when steve picks up one of eddie’s hands to place on his own hard cock. he can feel a damp spot under his palm, and when he looks up at steve's face, he looks about as wrecked as eddie feels.
the only thing he can possibly say to steve is easy. “take me home. now.”
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papermint-airplane · 3 months
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I will never understand people who think it's cringe to go through someone's whole blog and like old posts. This isn't Instagram. It's not a faux pas to do that here. I personally really like it. I see someone liking my old stuff and I just imagine walking around with them showing off my posts. Notification. "Oh you like that one? I like that one too." Notification. "Haha oh you found that one. I remember that." Notification. "Oooh good choice! That's probably the best one on here." For me, it's a fun way to relive my old content from someone else's perspective and it makes me really happy to see someone enjoying my stuff. Never feel bad about doing that! Be free, my friends!
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indigovigilance · 11 months
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The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death
read on Ao3
The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.
Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.
In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.
Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.
In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:
Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person. 
It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard. 
~~~
The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry. 
Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.
Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.
Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.
~~~
In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.
But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.
I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling. 
I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.
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soranatus · 1 year
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SPOILERS FOR ATSV
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So… green and purple, huh
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The Traveler captures the essence of Destiny’s humanistic and existential message with touching inspiration.
I’m coming out to say that the Traveler is my favorite character in Destiny by FAR and has been for years. I promise I’ll make a full thought dump on Cayde’s decision, but I just want to quickly talk about the absolute beauty of the narrative surrounding the Traveler that I have cried numerous rivers over. The Traveler’s philosophy and essence has touched my spirit so intimately, I cannot thank Destiny enough for blessing us with that beautiful white orb.
The Traveler is the most endearing thing ever to be conceived of to me because the idea of a creator who believes it should serve its creations in the best way it knows how is so refreshing. We as humans are so used to stories to about gods who we must respect because they contributed to the universe we live in; gods who believe they have jurisdiction over all and expect us to follow their word for they are wiser than any mortal. Free will is a heavy burden to bear and, as a result of humans wishing to alleviate the anxiety that comes with the knowledge that you must be responsible for all your directionless choices and the potential pain that comes with them, we create stories about deities who understand the things we don’t and will guide us in a universe that provides no instructions on how to live properly.
The Traveler is so respectable and inspiring because though it can bend the laws of physics with its paracasual abilities and was responsible for the birth of the universe, it doesn’t view itself as any higher than the life forms it fostered. Its devotion to free will and the love it has for all is heart throbbing, especially when sticking to its ideology is detrimental to its safety and well being. It’s so hopeful and believes in the good of sentient life, even if shown how awful beings can be. It has wishes and beliefs, but it will never impose them on anyone because it believes the universe is ours rather than the universe being entitled to it.
The Traveler could have been god and gave that up so we could have complexity and free will; so that we wouldn’t have a destiny. It is so mindful of people’s inclination to look beyond themselves for purpose in order to make their suffering more sensible and it chooses to not speak so that we may never hinder our ability to define our lives to be what we truly desire it to be. That choice, the choice to not be god because you believe so deeply in people’s self efficacy that you don’t see a god to be necessary, is one I hold dear to me.
Destiny is not a game about gods, it’s about powerful people who either realize that their powers do not mean they can enforce their will on others, leading them to enjoy the complex experience of being a living being, or become pseudo gods, meeting their end to godslayers who refuse to let anyone determine their fate. The Traveler is powerful and loving for it could have chosen servitude from all , but it chose to be of service instead, even if it would get hatred in return from those who did not understand the power it was granting them. It’s love is unconditional and it would suffer untold eons for anyone, even if the affection wasn’t returned.
Destiny asks the question “What do you do when you can’t force the universe to care about you?”
What do you do when the logic is sharp, the Winnower cuts away at the excess of reality, and you cry out prayers to get no response in turn?
It answers it with “Who cares if the universe thinks we matter or not, we decide if we matter and we can care for each other when the Winnower refuses to”.
I’ll forever thank the Traveler for allowing us to not only find that answer, but experience it with mouthfuls of the sweetness freedom bleeds when you breach the deterring sight of possibility.
Traveler, I love you more than you could understand and when I think there is no hope in my life, I think of you standing strong in the sky after eons of fear and torment and I get the courage to stand strong against the the tides of causality.
The universe may be unmoved by whether we suffer or not, but there will always be beings who will help us understand that this isn’t a problem to be solved, but a truth to embrace and free ourselves with.
Beings like the Traveler, who never understood why we looked up at it when we could have looked down at our own hands. We may want god, but what we really need is ourselves and each other. This is something we will struggle against for a long time, but the Traveler knows we will get there eventually.
It has patience and hope beyond infinity, traits I will forever think of when humanity stumbles over existential questions time and time again.
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sun-marie · 8 months
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I thought I might make this quick piece based off @galebrainrott 's idea into it's own post bc I'm quite happy with it :3
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Just a reminder to anyone with kids, your small children do not have the same basis for things that you do! There’s a good chance they aren’t trying to be rebellious, they just simply have no idea what you’re telling them!!
When I was small, I used to get in trouble all the time for not “walking in the crosswalk”, I had no fucking idea what a crosswalk was, the lines on the ground didn’t stick out at me, and when I tried to walk right by the adults because surely being right next to them would be the right answer, it put me outside the lines and just upset them further (also going nonverbal when stressed and having a face that doesn’t properly show emotion didn’t help me out)
If you tell your kid to do something that seems really easy to do to you, and they don’t listen, try phrasing it in a different way, instead of “walk in the crosswalk”, try pointing out the two lines on the ground, and let them know to walk in between those lines!
(Separate from the crosswalk thing, but also sometimes if it seems like your kid is being rebellious for “no reason” and they have older siblings, just,, make sure their siblings didn’t prank them by giving them false information)
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kedreeva · 4 months
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In case I have not made it abundantly clear, I'm not here for any "both parties are equally bad" sniveling. Shut the fuck up. Unfollow me. Get out of my house if you can't recognize how much goddamn worse Trump would be.
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phoenixfangs · 2 years
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m0n373r · 21 days
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Oh my payment didn't succes... *draws adam on roblox*
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pastadoughie · 2 months
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Hello 👋 🤗,
I hope you are well 🌺.
I am writing to you with a heart full of hope and faith, asking for your urgent help. My family is in great danger due to the war, and I am running a fundraising campaign to save them.
Please, could you reblog the post about my campaign on my account? Every share can make a difference in my family's life. 🙏
Note:My old Tumblr account was deactivated💔, and I need your support again♥️.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can provide. 🌹🌺
this has been vetted by multiple different people! tumblr has a really nasty habit of deactivating the blogs of people in gaza so please dont be rude to him about having a new account donate here!! i hope the best 4 u n ur family!!!
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swokeeon · 5 months
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yada yada another thing to flood the tag with
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piningpercussionist · 4 months
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Okay. Fellas. Real talk. I've seen some of you do it and I thank you profusely for doing so but can yall PLEASE credit the original artist of that piece yall kinda made into an a dtiys/art meme? That's not official art. I am point blank refusing to engage with any of these pieces that I see not doing such. (Even when it pains me to keep scrolling, because some of them are really good!! And I want them here!!! But I do have some rules for myself I try to stand firm by with this blog.)
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Like you can literally see them say right there that it's fine IF YOU CREDIT. I'm fucking begging you.
I'm not mad at anyone who didn't know but I've seen SO MANY versions at this point, and I think I've seen maybe 3 or 4 of them RECENTLY include the credit. (And one with improper credit, I think?) Please. Please just. Tack it on.
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