#this is important plot shit

[egophiliac]

So.... what are your thoughts on Ace's UM, if you haven't been asked this already?

sneaky magic for the sneakiest boy

no but really, I think it fits him really well! I had thought his UM would probably involve something kinda sleight-of-handy or pickpockety! and I looooved that it made such a nice loop-around back to episode 1. ❤️ I was. kind of half-expecting him to just run out and punch Riddle in the nose again. but instead this time 'twas he who offed the queen's head! it was great! and he did it while stone-cold terrified out of his mind! because Ace is the only remotely normal or well-adjusted person at NRC and therefore the only one who is like "we're going to literally die, this is super effed up". but he did it anyway!!!! I AM SO PROUD

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

I feel like something that should have been explored more in Arcane is that despite the dangers and pretty much horrific conditions, Zaun children seemingly grow up a lot more caring and have a larger understanding of family in comparison to Piltover children. And if such a reflection of the real world in a sense.

The kids of Zaun seemingly grow up with a lot more adult support. Ekko is easily welcomed under Benzo’s wings. Vander adopts 4 kids (two of which we learn he knew of before their parents death, two of which we can’t be sure of). Silco, despite all what happened, and his ulterior motives, shows no problem adopting Powder/Jinx. In the alternate universe it seems as though he’s still played a part in the kids lives. Jinx adopts Isha easily and Sevika cares for her as well. Hell, even Mr. War Crimes Against Humanity does well with little Viktor (until ya know, the animal abuse).

Hell, up until Vander dies (the first time) there seems to be a large understanding of if there’s an orphan or a kid in need of guidance, take them in! (And certainly don’t inform them of your plans to turn a giant pink salamander into drugs and be confused when a nine year old doesn’t understand). If a kid wants to be your apprentice, let them! For the most part, until things all went wrong in the end of act 1 of season 1, the worst parts of Zaun seem pretty typical for any city in poverty.

Match that with what we see with how Caitlyn and Jayce grow up. Caitlyn is given adult support, yes, and it’s clearly a good adult mentor, but it’s not entirely by her choice. It’s been chosen for her. She’s safe, but there’s a lack of freedom of choice. Meanwhile, when Jayce gets older, and that same accident in Act 1 happens, the family that supported him and his mom turns their backs. His own mom doesn’t support him either, because she’s afraid of what he’s talking about, but also because he’s damming them to being outcasts.

Conversely, Vander is more than willing to take the fall for what Claggor, Milo, Vi and Powder did. He’s willing to go to prison for a long time, in order for them to have a better future. Despite Vi’s best efforts, he’s not going to listen to her (she is just a kid) and he’s not letting his family go down and get hurt.

Meanwhile, a man who grew up in this mentality, where there’s a wide sense of family support from people who aren’t your biological family, is the one to go to Jayce, a stranger, and tells him he believes in him. It’s why it’s such a shock to Jayce; his own family and family friends denied him. They didn’t support him.

I think that’s what makes all the difference. Piltover and Zaun have wildly different understandings of family and forgiveness. For Piltover, it shuns and damns the lives of those who upset the balance. For Zaun, it provides safety and never ending understanding.

Just. I’m thinking.

[thimblings]

viago "fashion police" de riva

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[conspiracy-frog]

You know not to be nitpicky about the ch2 era(or dive into the discourse) but i think its kinda funny that despite having the gals be like main center pieces which a lot of things revolve around , pre ch3/4 (and even now tbh) you would see more discussion about dess than about Noelle. And like valid I also think about her a lot but it does feel like wanting to engage with a character that's not even here yet so ppl can project their fantasies onto than engage with the pre existing very plot relevant female character in a way that isnt thinking about how the snowgrave will ruin her. If you can write 500 think pieces on Mike fanfiction you can think about noelle more trust. Also nevermind the fact that before the new chapters the broad fandom had quite literally written Susie off as like unimportant which ??? People being surprised susie has PLOT (or than suselle actually gets development) are my villain origin story smh. Pissed me off SO bad and they were so serious about it too. Like bruh. The toxic funny yaoi men are great and I also would die for tenna but let's not forget who the game is about this time

[anyacad0]

I love that, not only did they give Dan Heng a Blade seal, the Blade Seal is fucking broken. You get that mf its signature buff and it can gain +18 atk every round. Is this foreshadowing for the Blade buff? Is he going to be absolutely cracked? I hope so

[endbie]

https://www.tumblr.com/cheezestixk/783611233193607168/that-one-era?source=share

this but river styx tommy & purpled, and then wilbur

Wilbur that is not bisexual lighting you are being arrested

[corseque]

this is like the first conversation scene of Dragon Age: Origins, and if we'd paid attention to it, we would have seen it was clear foreshadowing that the elven gods were "wrong" in a way that the Dalish don't expect. I've seen people claim the elven gods plot is some annoying new direction in the story that is made up to throw the series off track from what it's really about. so let me repeat myself

this conversation happens in the first ten minutes of Dragon Age: Origins

also I figured out how to use the Origins Toolset to look at the dialogue trees so you're all in a world of hurt

[yujateaandpi]

Caught up with The Summer Hikaru Died manga today. Chat, I am unwell.

[wassupmygays]

god its so cool and Important how. despite all the bright colors and flash fabrics and jewelry, all of the socs are really just carbon copies of each other. theyve all got the same base, just recolored like a character selection page on a cheap game.

all the guys have their crisp, clean, bright shirt, their nice stiff pants, belt, and white shoes. add in some rings and maybe a chain or somethin, and thats about it. add on their matching letterman jackets, and theyre practically identical.

all of the girls have their pretty dresses and styled hair, but thats really it. their dresses all match the popular style at the time, their hair is perfectly placed and not really Theirs. theyre all styled to be popular, not individual.

and they're all so colorful! because they can afford new fabrics and bright colors and expensive dry cleaners to wash them, though they're careful not to get dirty. theyre so bright and colorful but so painfully similar

contrast that with the greasers, who are all relatively in the same color palette. theyre in basic t-shirts, and denims, and leathers. work clothes. theres no split based on gender, ace wears pants with the guys. they are all down in the dirt and grimey, they all have to move and work in these clothes.

but theres so much personality in their outfits! even just the little things, like jewelry or headbands, tells so much about each person. ace's headband is a scrap from the shirt on her back, showing her resourcefulness. darry's flannel and work pants showing his grit and hard work. the patches decorating steve's jacket, showing his passions and the things he fights for. Johnny's vest showing his heritage, and his too-big clothes showing how hes got hand-me-downs. two-bit's tattoos, shown proudly and boldly on his bare arm for the whole world to see.

the greasers might all look 'the same' at first glance because theyre all in grays and dirty whites and denims. but god there is so much more heart and character and diversity in their outfits and therefore in their lives simply because theyre not worrying about sticking in a top spot of society. theyre not worrying about individuality being a weakness to tear them down. theyve got much bigger things to think about. theyre so free in that sense. free to be themselves, free to be with each other and support each other. because thats all they got; their hearts and each other.

the socs dont have that connection. they dont have that chance to be vulnerable and share a part of themselves so constantly. they may live where the grass is greener but are they really so much better off, if they can never truly show themselves?

[avicinda]

So ig they explained how Giovanni's time travel works with the Sea of Stars lore where the Seer is the one reversing time for Nikki in the laziest way possible

"He just thought the time travel was because of him."

[infinity-or-oblivion]

so um. i may or may not have started writing a realm smp hunger games au where ros and aimsey are from the same district and get picked in the reaping and try to keep each other safe but ultimately only one of them walks out of the arena. and also clown is ros’ brother and a victor with the highest kill count of any hunger games and i get really in my feels about that sibling dynamic. also owen is caesar flickerman. so basically ummmm if anyone wants that please start pressuring me to actually get it written

(check reblogs i posted a little snippet of this!!)

[ssaalexblake]

Why is 13's regen abt a white dude and why is 15's regen abt a white dude when do we get rid of that white man that just Cannot let other people have their own moments I swear this is so old, like really, it's a tale as old as time where white dudes are the center of the narrative and universe and everyone caters to them, and I'm so bored of it being celebrated. It's not innovative, it's not new, it's not brave.

[rindomness]

ohgoughhhhhh shit . wip wednesday. you get two bc i forgor last week. more mjtm au from wildly different points in the fic

[kirisclangen]

Rookblossom

She/her, 107 moons, cis molly

[se-rae2]

small peek to a wip (reader in dc, reader x batfam—in the semi-platonic sense? we'll see)

The first thing you noticed were the taps.

Tap.

It was consistent in a way that was almost comforting.

Tap.

A tap present every three seconds. The sound, akin to the incessant rambling of your brother's mouth; infinite.

Tap.

It was starting to annoy you, actually.

You rub your eyes open, unfortunately, and begrudgingly awakened by what your mind had registered as "The Taps". The infinitely infinite taps of god-knows-what.

Tap.

You shift to your side, slightly befuddled but ultimately unbothered by the sudden creak your bed had produced, and reach for your phone—a habit (ritual, almost) you had learned over the years—only to find out it was not there.

Tap.

That's not too strange, maybe your phone had moved with you while you slept.

Tap.

You shift to your other side, your eyes having closed against your will, and reached for your phone again.

It was not there either.

Tap.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

First, you wake up from your sleep (might you add; your much needed, wonderful sleep), then you suddenly can't find your phone? This was getting out of hand.

You move to sit up, struggling to find it in yourself to even try, but you do so anyway.

Okay. One thing out of your internal checklist. Now you just have to open your eyes. Terrible. How terrible. A struggle for heaven's greatest soldiers, truly.

This was the worst.

Tap.

Seriously though, whatever is that noise?

You open your eyes, expecting to find a messy room—and a messy room you find.

Only mess would not be the correct way to describe the room that you had only now realized was not your room. No.

Dump, would be the correct term.

This room looked like a cramped, dusty, and empty dump; one that did not belong to you.