This is my favourite headcannon in ages!
based on a headcanon I have that he probably told Shiro at some point and Krolia might have seen it during the trip and yeAh
Deadpool 3 perhaps? The pair have snogged before.
But what if they just happened to cast Andrew Garfield as the boyfriend in Deadpool 2, and someone in the movie is like, “hey, you look just like Peter Par-” but Deadpool tackles them before they can finish and then just looks directly at the camera and is like, “this is my boyfriend, Pete Parkley, and he is definitely not Spiderman because that would be a serious breach of licensing rights.” and then he just grabs Pete and tows him away by the suspicious red spandex collar poking out over the top of his T-shirt
Random Headcanon: That Federation vessels in Star Trek seem to experience bizarre malfunctions with such overwhelming frequency isn’t just an artefact of the television serial format. Rather, it’s because the Federation as a culture are a bunch of deranged hyper-neophiles, tooling around in ships packed full of beyond-cutting-edge tech they don’t really understand. Endlessly frustrating if you have to fight them, because they can pull an effectively unlimited number of bullshit space-magic countermeasures out of their arses - but they’re as likely as not to give themselves a lethal five-dimensional wedgie in the process. All those rampant holograms and warp core malfunctions and accidentally-traveling-back-in-time incidents? That doesn’t actually happen to anyone else; it’s literally just Federation vessels that go off the rails like that. And they do so on a fairly regular basis.
My favourite spaceship: the Ancient (both in age and the name of its creators) ship Destiny. A ship that travelled across galaxies for millions of years, searching for meaning in the universe, until Syfy cancelled the show it was on. Such a beautiful design, and well thought out too.
A poem I wrote recently after starting to study Irish history:
I sit in class,
And learn of a past
That in many ways once was mine.
Though generations divorced, is it not natural to pine?
For a heritage too vast to grasp.
At home are pictures of a land unfamiliar:
Of faces, green spaces and castles.
And though their meaning escapes me,
And the memories long left me,
I know they mean much more.
In my mind's ear I hear fiddles,
But all I comprehend are riddles.
To follow is a rite of passage
From which I could only scavenge:
A path left but unearnt.
The waves of the coast call to me,
They beckon me back to the quay.
Again I hesitate to follow,
My connection only being hollow,
But now I have a chance to see.
To see revolutions rise and quickly fall,
The mistreatment and the brawls,
And the poets dreaming of a free home.
They tell stories of white horses- across the fields they roam;
A return to a culture stolen.
To discover the rural lands once more,
To grasp the many wars,
To comprehend the intricacies and allegiances.
The negotiations that devolved into grievances,
And the retaliations spun into tales of yore.
One image stands out in the mist:
A memorial of cold stone.
This one belongs to my grandfather, but I know of many more:
O'Connell; Parnell; Struck down by hearts broken, by causes lost.
The Banshees’ howls echoing around them.
I may not grasp the history, the language or the myths.
My blood may not be Irish like those before me,
But I have the chance to learn, to reconnect.
I know what I am:
An English boy thinking of the nation from which he got his name.
do you ever get confused about where your mental illness ends and where you being a piece of shit begins ?? like am i just being difficult or can i really not do that