IF YOURE EGYPTIAN AND LGBTQ+ GET OFF ANY QUEER DATING SITES, THE POLICE ARE TRACKING AND HUNTING PEOPLE

A genre-punk dictionary

Cyberpunk - Neon lights, mechanical body-horror, lots and lots of electronic junk lying around, tightly confined city slums, flying cars, androids, and last but not least, lots of grungy browns and grays. Bladerunner, Judge Dredd, Bubblegum Crisis etc.

Dieselpunk - Similar to cyberpunk, but less about electronics and androids and more about internal combustion and industrial robots. Technology is less ubiquitous in this setting but when you see techology, it will be combustion powered in some way… or at least look like it should be. Expect grease stains and bits of sludge on everything. Final Fantasy VII (the original game only) is a prime example.

Laserpunk - The Anti-Cyberpunk. Spotless with a lot of legroom. Expect glowing lines, fancy grooves, bright white glossy walls, and some shiny blues on everything. Everything in this setting has something that glows, even when it doesn’t need it. These are your Xenosaga’s, iRobot’s, Star Ocean’s.

Garbagepunk - The kludgey cousin of steampunk. Everything in this setting, and I mean EVERY SINGLE THING, is made of trash. Goggles made of bottles, water filtration made of old oil drums and used coffee filters, etc. Mad Max, Deponia, Water World, etc.

Steampunk - Steam power, leatherbound handles, brass fittings, lots of circles and rivets. I shouldn’t have to really clarify this one.

Clockpunk - Steampunk but with clockworks instead of steam engines. Its a small difference, listed only for the reason that steampunk requires steam and clockpunk doesn’t always have it. Expect gears, cogs, wheels and springs.

Codepunk - This one is difficult to pin down. Its less about the aesthetic and more about the concepts. This is a setting where everything that happens is related in some way to programming… Where the laws of physics are just functions being run with parameters, alterable by anyone with knowledge of how to access them. This is a setting where people do battle by compiling text that subtracts a number from the other person’s vital statistics variables, but that is what the world is actually made of, not just a game abstraction. Codepunk is characterized by parts of the world actually breaking down visibly into raw text. .hack//, Fate／Extra, the parts of the Matrix series we don’t get to watch where someone is actually typing on a keyboard to make things actually happen…( not that Neo-Morpheus crap. )

Naturepunk - What happens when you invent modern or even futuristic technology without actually using any technology. Reclining armchairs made of sticks and moss. Aeroplane’s made of palm fronds and vines. If cavemen invented space travel. Everything is made of locally sourced natural components, but the level of technological advancement and sophistication isn’t necessarily diminished because of it. You might have all the classic weapons of war, guns and grenades and such, but made of curious growths. Mushrooms with highly flammable spores for example, instead of a grenade. While not the only example, the best I can actually think of is… The Flintstones. You might also consider many depictions of Atlantis under this category.

Biopunk - Naturepunk’s heavy metal big sister. Everything is made of bone, meat, blood and teeth. Everything is either alive, or was alive at one time. Technology is either made of raw carcasses, or is actually some creature bred or engineered specifically to be used in the way a machine would. Don’t expect to see much inorganic material in generally anything. eXistenZ, generally anything that takes place inside another organism.

Definitely. Its the only buzzfeed series I watch haha just because its so good. I highly recommend it. :)

should i watch buzzfeed unsolved?

Doodles based on the Prince!Varian AU that’s been floating around.

Varian’s powers obviously come from the moon/stars, but since his dad’s symbol is this I went with mainly Stars. He has the same healing abilities as Rapunzel does, though.

I live in a state of either “fuck yeah” or “fuck no” and there is no in between

Seizure/Panic Warning!

I’M SORRY SO MANY TEXT POSTS BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT

there’s a post going around of some girl linking to a “picture of her prom dress” when the link leads to a picture of a gif’d mutilated face and screaming. i imagine that this could be very harmful to both people with epilepsy or those with anxiety problems and the like. it happened to alarm me a lot.

please boost so no one gets hurt! we don’t want any seizures or panic attacks!

Rebellions are built on hope.

Help Everyone Find A Job In Their Field

Ad Meliora (1/?)

Fandom: Tangled: The Series

Rating: Gen

Summary: For everything that has happened, Arianna should be afraid. Afraid for her life. Afraid for her kingdom. Afraid for her family. But she watches, closely, at the slight tremble in Varian’s voice, in the way he shields himself from her gaze, and can’t feel anything but sad.

Or, a Fix It-AU where Arianna is the mother Varian didn’t know he needed but deserved 

CHAPTER I

For everything that has happened, Arianna should be afraid. Afraid for her life. Afraid for her kingdom. Afraid for her family.

But she watches, closely, at the slight tremble in Varian’s voice, in the way he shields himself from her gaze, and can’t feel anything but sad. He’s smaller than most village boys she meets, with buck teeth that he tries to hide and a lock of hair that reminds of her niece from far away. He’s a child, she realizes. A child. And younger than her daughter, at that.

Dangerous. Untrustworthy. Reckless. These are the words she has heard about Varian, the only words, in fact, that have come out of Frederic’s mouth. But she looks at the boy’s shaky frame, the dark bags under his eyes, the frenzied, paranoid look he has on his face. She stares and thinks reckless, yes, but also young. Naive.

Broken.

“Believe me I know, I’ve sunk pretty low, but whatever I’ve done you deserve it,” he seethes, blow torch firing away at whatever invention he’s created.

“Varian-” she tries, only to be shut out.

“I’m the bad guy, that’s fine-” she hears his voice breaks at the end, but he steels himself forward and continues to work. “It’s no fault of mine, and some justice at last will be served-”

“Please listen!” Arianna begs. The alchemist ignores her and hammers loudly at the machine. Everything feels like a haze, his words of anger and contempt drowned out by a ringing noise in her ears. The room spins in her peripheral vision as she struggles to think of something, anything, to say.

In front of her, Varian suddenly stops at the amber rocks, a yearning look on his face as he stares up at his only remaining family. There is something unreadable in his expression, something wistful and wanting. 

You’ve lost someone, she thinks. You’ve lost someone, and God help me that is something I can understand.

“I know what it feels like!” Arianna shouts before can stop herself. Varian freezes, hand hovering over the amber prison. “Please, just-”

“Be quiet!” Varian scowls. He turns around, furious, but Arianna boldly stands up, feet carrying her as far as the chains would allow.

“You care, you care so much about the people you love that you’ll do anything to help them. I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. Believe, me, I know.”

“You don’t know anything!” Varian cries. His eyes screw shut, hands clench tightly at his sides. “You don’t understand anything. He’s all I have! He’s all I have left!”

“And what would he think of you now?” Arianna counters. “What would he think if he saw you threatening people’s lives, endangering innocents on your quest for revenge? How will this make things better?” She watches as he brings his hands to his face, shoulders shaking violently. There’s an urge, deep and powerful, that makes her want to go over and hold him tight, but she can’t. Not now. Not with her being so close.

“You were friends with my daughter, Varian. You still are, I think. She talked about you, about how smart and brave you were, how incredible your inventions could be. Varian, please, prove to me that you’re the same boy she talked about.”

“There’s no other choice!” Varian says. “I-I’ve done too much, I’ve gone too far to turn back.” He frantically rubs his eyes, desperate to keep her from seeing him too closely. “I need to make my Dad proud. I have to free him!”

“Listen to me,” Arianna pleads. She tugs on her chains and prays that she can get closer to the boy. “This feeling, this empty, awful feeling of despair. What you are doing will make none of that go away. It will only keep adding up until you can barely stand anymore. I would have done anything to see my daughter-” her voice cracks slightly, breath hitching on the last syllable. “-and I know you’re willing to do anything to free your father, but this isn’t the right way. This isn’t the answer to what you’re feeling.” She reaches out her hands with all the strength she can muster. “Varian, are you listening to me-”

“I-I-” he stutters, breathing becoming erratic. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, and in that moment Arianna sees the mask he’s built fall apart. “I don’t, I d-don’t-”

“Varian-”

“I want him back.” A strangled sob erupts from his mouth, piercing Arianna straight to her bone, and just like that, a dam seems to break. “I want, I-”. He wraps his arms around his body and bends over. She can hardly make out what he’s saying. “I c-can’t fix this. I can’t fix any of this-” he lets out another choked cry, grips the goggles on his head and throws them to the ground.

It’s agonizing to Arianna as she watches him. She remembers the pain, the suffering that went through Frederic’s mind when he realized there was nothing he could do to save Rapunzel. And it scares her as similar the two are in their pursuit of their goals.

She yanks at the chains, but they only seem to dig deeper into her flesh and the distance between her and Varian remains the same. She wants to speak, to shout, to tell him it will be okay, as he continues to sob. After realizing how useless trying to escape would be, she seriously considers throwing something over there to get his attention before a small chirp echoes from below. 

Startled, she looks down at the small raccoon (Rudiger, she vaguely remembers from Rapunzel) and almost lets out a shout of joy when she sees the rusty key in his mouth.

“Thank you,” Arianna says, and she wastes no time in unlocking the chains. They fall to the ground with a loud thump, but the sound seems miles away as she goes to embrace Varian.

In hindsight, she realizes a second into the action, a dozen very bad things could happen. She could be hit. Pushed away. Splashed with whatever concoction he has in his belt. But to her relief, the boy melts into her touch with a pained whimper. She clutches him tighter, murmuring words of comfort that she hopes reaches his ears.

And it is in this moment, in this cold, dark room, that the burdens of the world seem to lift a little.

The rescue arrives a few minutes after. She sees them before Varian does, in the corner of the room, arms raised with their weapons, and despite the urge to run over and unite with her family, she stays stone-still.

Varian’s cries have begun to die down until they are nothing more than soft sniffles and shaky gulps. He looks up at her with a shocked expression, as if he can’t believe she would even consider helping him. In return, she gives him a warm smile and gently tucks back a lock of his hair.

“I-I,” he wipes his nose with his sleeve. Looks away. “I did, I did this-”

There’s nothing Arianna can say now. Because sometimes, no matter how hard you try, the only way to let people heal is for them to accept what they’ve done.

“I’m sorry,” Varian finally cries. Fresh tears spill from his eyes and he furiously rubs them away. “I didn’t want this. I promise I didn’t want this-”

“Varian, Varian-” Arianna brings him close again. “Listen to me. It will be okay. You know it will be okay.”

“I committed treason,” he gasps. “I took you. I’m going to be jailed. I can’t see my dad again.”

“Breathe, Varian,” she firmly instructs. “In and out.” Her voice carries over to Frederic and Rapunzel. They come out of the shadows into the shine of the small light, and she sees her daughter’s eyes widen in shock. Beside her, Frederic stands equally conflicted.

“I’m sorry,” Varian whimpers again. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry-”

“Varian,” Rapunzel says.

With a lurch, The alchemist scrambles out of Arianna’s hold, legs kicking about as he tries to stand up. “R-Rapunzel-” he glances at the King in fear, then back at her. “I, I-”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” she says. “I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “I didn’t want this. My dad-I wanted-” his back hits the table’s leg and a glass vial shatters next to him. “I’m so sorry-”

“I sorry, too,” Rapunzel says. She takes a small, hesitant step forward, arms reaching out just like Arianna did. “I’m sorry for breaking my promise. I’m sorry that your father is stuck in the rocks. I know we can fix this, though.”

“How?” Varian asks, and Arianna is struck by how young he looks now, head ducked in both shame and fear. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” Rapunzel admits. “But we will soon, okay? We just have to keep trying.” She holds her hand out to the alchemist in hope. “Together?”

There’s a pain-staking silence as a minute passes. Then two. Then three. But Rapunzel never once wavers, never once moves from that very spot, and a swell of pride erupts in Arianna as she witnesses her daughter’s kindness.  

Finally, finally, Varian takes Rapunzel’s hand and allows himself to be pulled up. She immediately throws her arms around his neck, head buried in his shoulder. It is awkward at first, with him not what to do or what to say, but the alchemist slowly returns the gesture with an equal amount of affection.

There are no words, Arianna thinks, for the feeling that comes with being forgiven. And in the shadows of the prison, in the suffocating darkness that has trapped Varian for so long, she swears that her daughter’s hair glows with the promise of healing. 

When you see it, REBLOG IT.

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