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#about space exploration :)
puppetmaster13u · 2 months
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Prompt 235
“Mother, I have made a friend.” 
Now don’t get him wrong, Danny was delighted at the idea of Jordan making a friend, he really was. But the last three attempts had been borderline kidnappings, so he wasn’t entirely sure if he should be. Thankfully it doesn’t seem he’s kidnapped this one. Hopefully. 
Not that he wouldn’t be surprised if Dan managed to kidnap a tiny kryptonian, but the kid- Jon apparently- seemed happy enough to be there. Apparently his grandparents lived in the midwest too, and was happy enough to have someone to talk about it. 
Though um, maybe Danny should have checked to see if his parents knew where he’d gone, because he was not expecting a harried-looking superman to suddenly appear at his window. 
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mobius-m-mobius · 7 months
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Loki 2x01 // 2x02
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planet4546b · 9 months
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transgender characters in sci fi are really good bc it’s like. how will future technology change our ideas about personhood and transition. transgender characters in fantasy are even better because they will be drinking hrt potion
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yakny · 5 months
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ERROR! THIS OPERATING SYSTEM DOES NOT SUPPORT OLDER VERSIONS OF 'SELF'.
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clowndensation · 1 year
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louis, lestat, and their single bed as a motif louis puts into his own story, but refuses to explore, is literally one of the sexiest parts of the show. it speaks volumes about a level of fulfillment and freedom that louis feels by being with lestat that he rarely explicitly comments on when he's relaying his story to daniel, which feels extremely relevant to his overall reluctance to examine the parts of his relationship with lestat that he really enjoyed.
because louis is a character who's hyper aware of how he presents himself. he's lived his entire life projecting a certain masculine, heteronormative image, and he's aware of how deviating from that presentation has implications that impact how people view him - from enjoying the opera, to the presentation of his nails. the fact that he moves in with lestat and neither of them ever put a second bed into any room in the house as a level of plausible deniability is so huge and oversight by so cautious a character, it can only be read as deliberate - especially when the conspicuous lack of a second bed is pointed out to them by both antoinette and a literal police officer. in an existence where you don't sleep in a bed, the bed becomes a symbolic object more so than a practical one. it's louis choosing to deliberately transgress against the societal expectations he lives out when he leaves his house, a bit of presentation that actually amplifies his truth as a gay man living with his partner, rather than masking or hiding himself, like he does for the outside world.
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bonebrokebuddy · 2 years
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“I don’t understand why you’re so adamant on asking me this, Hal. I just mentioned to Barry that I talked with the head Easter Bunny once and now everyone keeps asking me if I think the Easter Bunny is real! Why do people keep asking me? I’ve met them. I don’t understand why I have to ‘believe’ in the Easter Bunny for them to be real! They exist!”
Hal put his hands up and stepped back, clearly not expecting the frustrated and somewhat hostile response of Billy who slumped back into his seat, which was slightly less satisfying in his bulkier body, and began running his hands through his hair.
The repetition of being interrogated over a simple comment was not only bewildering but had gotten increasingly more annoying to answer as somehow the members of The Justice League, the literal most powerful group of people on earth, didn’t seem to understand a piece of basic knowledge.
Billy was not only very tired of being asked the same thing but even more-so he wanted the laughing at his ordinary response to stop.
He paused and looked Hal dead in the eyes then began to speak in the most dead tone Hal had ever heard from the usually cheerful man.
“Hal, I know the Easter Bunnies are real because I had to spend two, very long weeks personally overseeing the creation of their union that made sure they no longer routinely experience unsafe working conditions and helped establish 8 hour working days so they no longer get overworked or are required to do 80 hour weeks prepping for Easter and get punished for doing less or don’t get paid”,
Billy’s previously slow, blank tone grew more rushed and frustrated as he went on,
“I mean, I didn’t even do much other than sit there and look intimidating by throwing around lightning sometimes and make sure the Easter chicks didn’t do any funny business or tamper with the legal process!
It was in all the papers in Fawcett! I had my picture taken with them and everything. But Hal. I can guarantee you that the Easter Bunny exists. Please. Please stop fucking asking me.” Finally done, Billy slumped onto the table with a loud clunk.
Hal stood there shocked for a moment. “Marvel, did you just imply there’s multiple easter bunnies and they established a form of government?!”
Billy, with seemingly tremendous emotional effort, lifted his head from the table by a few inches and looked Hal in the eyes with a pleading tone, “If I just say no, will you please stop asking me?”
“Absolutely not, now I have even more questions”
Billy let his head fall back onto the table with an even louder clunk and groaned.
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kadethecat · 10 months
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3%
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qqueenofhades · 9 months
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Also, I am watching Good Night Oppy (the documentary about the mission of the Mars rover Opportunity) because apparently I want to Cry. And aside from the NASA crew who worked on the project all lovingly referring to Opportunity and its sister Spirit as "she" and talking about how much the whole project meant to them, the lead engineer on the Spirit program, when talking about the end of Spirit's mission, just gently goes "I guess she was tired too, after all the work she had done" and just. Hang on. Hang on I need a second
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800db-cloud · 8 months
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hey all i got this pretty wacky pitch for a pikmin 4 au
olimar’s son is transfem :) pom/lisa is her but grown up
moved to karut to pursue education + dreams, doesn’t get to visit home often if at all but always writes to her family
trained for the rescue corps to get the chance of “being an explorer” like olimar
don’t try to take this too seriously AJDJJFG i fully understand this makes no sense at all in the actual pikmin 4 canon, this is just a for-the-fun-of-it kind of hc/au 👍
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 157
Ellie is quite enjoying herself. She’s exploring the ocean while her Template-Dad finishes his college homework, and honestly there’s so many absolutely awesome things down here! She absolutely loves exploring, and is also excited to test out some things Danny made for her like a camera that should be able to take proper pictures of everything! 
Meanwhile there’s a couple of rather concerned atlanteans wondering where the heck this glowing chirping child came from and why they’re so far from the surface. 
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citrinesparkles · 1 year
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stormy weather
jason todd x gender neutral reader. 720 words. notes: a very abstract take on 'write a true story about you with characters instead of people', one of the prompts from the ever lovely @reaperintheroses drabble december! this was more 'write about feelings', but i tried. warnings: vague bad headspace on jason's part
he was in a mood.
you weren't sure what mood, but it wasn't good.
it was, however, familiar enough that you weren't surprised when he walked through the bedroom like a ghost.
all he took with him as he left it was a nail file.
you sat quietly, listening for the window.
there it was, about half a minute later: the sliding sound of the window in the frame was quiet but unmistakable, as was the sound of it sliding shut behind him.
fire escape brooding.
you sighed- that was a surefire sign that the mood had settled in completely. you had hoped, somewhat naïvely, that it would be a "wrong side of the bed" situation; had hoped he would be able to shake it off.
with the mood here to stay, you put your phone aside and slid out of bed.
it wasn't something to fix. not days like this. as much as you wished you could carry the weight of this for him, you settled instead for trying to share the load.
you took your time walking through the apartment, giving him his space for a little while as you boiled water and steeped tea for him.
you dug out his largest, warmest sweatshirt, tugging it on to brace against the cold you knew was wrapped around him both mentally and literally. then, with a glance at his silhouette in the window, you picked up his mug and approached.
he barely reacted to the sound of the window opening, only shifting slightly so his ear was towards you in silent acknowledgement.
"i made tea," you said softly, leaning on the sill. "interested?"
jason hesitated a moment, the only sounds the traffic below.
he shrugged, twirling the nail file between two fingers.
you reached over, gently pressing the mug into his free hand, watching as he pulled it to his chest with a hum.
"do you want space, or would you prefer i join you?"
"...you can." his voice was steady, but uncharacteristically quiet and lifeless. "not gonna be much company right now."
you slid out the window, closing it behind you, and he glanced up at you blankly. "you don't have to be," you said firmly, quietly, as you sat down beside him. "i'm just here."
the metal was freezing, even through your thick sweatpants. it would take more than a stretch of the imagination to call it comfortable, but you settled in like it was memory foam.
you sat in silence, listening to him breathe beside you and watching it fog in your peripheral.
you sat until your legs ached and your nose felt about ready to fall off from the cold. you sat for far longer than it took him to drain his mug. you sat long enough that the rush of lunch traffic came and went below you.
you sat watching gray clouds churn in the sky, offering the only comfort you could: he wasn't alone.
eventually, he inhaled deeply, and you felt something shift.
"you want a grilled cheese?" his voice was rough and quiet, but using it was a good sign.
you recognized the offer as the thank you that it was.
"yeah," you matched his volume, gently breaking your silence. "that sounds good."
it wasn't over, not by a long shot. you could feel it in the air around you, as though jason was a storm and the front was rolling in. it would be a few days, you suspected, of this- of disconnect, of that distant look in his eyes.
and that was the best case scenario.
he pushed himself up and off the ground, wincing when his bad ankle popped unpleasantly, and you changed your mind. he wasn't the storm. a storm in his own right, sure, strong and beautiful and immovable to all the world, but in this case he was standing on the coast and watching the storm turn the ocean angry.
he reached a hand down to help you up.
you took it, squeezing it once, twice, three times in quick succession as you hauled yourself to your feet. once there, you relaxed your grip.
he kept his, keeping your palm against his own. bracing himself against the wind.
you'd be damned if you let him board up the windows and sandbag the doorways on his own.
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toaarcan · 10 months
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Well, today is Moon Landing Day, so here’s the best-quality footage of the launch I could find.
youtube
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tinned-beef · 1 year
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here’s the full version of the free comic book day comic!
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again, apologies that the quality isn’t very good, the gloss of the paper makes it difficult to get good pictures of,,
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aro-culture-is · 5 months
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Aro culture is wanting to scream at your friend to just dump their hateful racist asshole boyfriend, while at the same time knowing that they won't listen to you because they are in love and apparently, that erases their ability for critical thinking
While also not saying any of that because it would be rude
A "hateful racist asshole boyfriend" sounds ripe for a situation in which your friend could be dating someone actively grooming them for domestic abuse.
In those cases, individuals often already have poor boundary control, and it's not the critical thinking actually missing: it's the security that creating boundaries doesn't mean losing someone who they feel cares about them. Judgements on their ability to "think clearly" are both misplaced and encouraged by the abusers, as worsening self esteem leads to an abuse victim seeking comfort... often from the abuser.
I think it's very, very important to recognize that the best thing you can do for them is to be there, continually reaffirm that they can always tell you anything, and rather than pressure them to break up... ask them to tell you about the relationship. You can guide them to red flags, but also try to present possible communication elements. There are guides online by great resources talking about how to best support these conversations.
And, of course, it's always possible it is simply that your friend actually is racist and they put up with the behavior because of that. It's not hard for some bigots to find an in through less overt bigotry. But I strongly encourage folks to realize that "in love with no capacity for critical thought" is a very dangerous warning sign that someone may be unable to recognize healthy boundaries, and worse - to recognize unhealthy boundaries.
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uncanny-tranny · 11 months
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It's actually kind of heartbreaking how many people feel their life has ended right after high school or college, and honestly, the heavy romanticization of that period of time is so overwhelmingly predominant that it can be hard to avoid. It's insidious to constantly be told that ages 10-24 are the only worthwhile parts of life, that everything after is essentially meaningless and dull.
It's hard not to look around you and think that your life still is open and full of potential when you're told over and over again that the rose-tinted childhood is the last time you were alive. It's hard to realize that your life isn't over when you walk off the stage of your graduation.
We must realize that we will always be full of potentials. Your life won't be over until you take your final breath, and then? That's simply another chapter in your story, one of many. Let yourself realize that you're alive in the here and now. There will be good and bad, but never a complete loss of potential or hope.
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blue-mood-blue · 1 month
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What if Hua Cheng had memorialized the temple?
I don’t think he did, canonically. I imagine that was a memory he wasn’t keen to linger on, especially not to such an extent as to record it, to hover over the details in his mind and commit it to physical imagery. But I could see where he might - maybe catharsis, so that night can exist somewhere outside of his head. Maybe twisting, spiteful justice, so the world won’t be allowed to forget what it did to his god. Maybe just desperation, to record every shard of Xie Lian that he has in an effort not to lose a single piece while he searches.
It wouldn’t be graphic; I think it would be something more stylized, more symbolic. Xie Lian is tied to his own altar. He has replaced the divine statue that should be there instead, the god made present the way he was for Hua Cheng once, the way he was for all of his people once. He is surrounded by blades, but they aren’t piercing him yet. Hua Cheng can’t do that to him even in paint. Bai Wuxiang is not featured, because Hua Cheng would not force any version of Xie Lian into that monster’s presence, but there is a ghost fire hovering near. There is a small, crushed flower on the ground at the foot of the altar, like it was dropped from the Flower Crowned Prince’s hand moments before. The entire tableau holds its breath in the anticipation of something horrific.
It’s painted in a shadowed corner, with a cloth hung in front of it. Not out of shame, or even because of Hua Cheng’s own trauma - out of respect for the prince’s privacy, unwillingness to make a moment of such incredible, painful vulnerability a spectacle to anyone else without the prince’s say-so.
That doesn’t stop Mu Qing from finding it.
Mu Qing, who was already horrified, Mu Qing, who was looking for Xie Lian to drag him out of the caves immediately because he’d seen a statue that suggested things he would rather not think about in regards to his former prince… Mu Qing brushes the curtain aside in that tucked-away corner and stops.
A hundred blades are pointed at His Highness. A hundred faces leer and sob and stare. And Xie Lian sits at the center of it all, head lowered, waiting for the slaughter.
Is it so unreasonable that Mu Qing takes it for a threat? Is it so unreasonable of Mu Qing to drag Feng Xin to what he’s found, for the both of them to slip an arm around each of the prince’s own and pull him away from wherever that altar is somewhere in the complicated network of twisted, obscene worship? That thing painted on the wall - it can’t have ever happened. They would know. Mu Qing and Feng Xin, who spent every day of their early lives with the prince, beside the prince, trailing along behind the prince… they would know. They would have been there; they would have prevented it. This is the fantasy of a ghost king who laid ruin to thirty-three heavenly officials and found his thirst still unslaked.
(Mu Qing does not consider the eight hundred years of Xie Lian’s life he knows nothing about. Feng Xin does not consider the eight hundred years of Xie Lian’s life he knows nothing about. It’s a habit they’ve grown skilled at, over eight hundred years.)
They don’t explain to Xie Lian, so Xie Lian has no opportunity to explain to them what they saw. And Mu Qing isn’t wrong, when he concludes that Xie Lian has been stalked and watched and hunted since he was seventeen. He isn’t wrong. He just doesn’t know, yet, what direction the threat is coming from. There’s no time for anyone to tell him, or Feng Xin, who tied the restraints and provided the sword.
They’ll find out. Masks are made to be removed.
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