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#making this brought me so much joy

somerandomdudelmao · 1 year

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So! I came across this:

youtube

And you have no idea what a unique emotions this thing brings me. As a story writer, as someone who knows the full context and all the spoilers. Oh my God, I can't even explain it to you...... But I can definitely tell you that if you stick around for a few more episodes of the comic. And then watch this animatic again. Oh boy, it will feel different

#I swear to fuchgjg goddd #this fandom #You see #In the midst of universal grief and mourning #this person brought me so much joy #hhhhhhh #this thing makes me so excited for the comfort part of the story #Youtube #animatic #cas fanart tag

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theteapotofdoom · 4 months

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Okay but the thing is!!! The thing is!!! No matter what happens to Tomura at the end of MHA!!! We absolutely HAVE to be funny about it!!! For real even if we get the worst possible outcome we simply MUST clown, we must make memes this is so important!!!!

#this post doesn’t make sense I don’t know how to exprès this property #but it’s important to me #we need to be funny about Tomura no matter what #because he brought us all so much joy for almost ten years #so no matter what Horikoshi decides for him Tomura deserves a happy send off #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shimura tenko

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queenlucythevaliant · 1 month

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Northern Lights

I heard a voice that cried, “Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!”

Who knows what to call the lonely exhilaration of gazing out into a bright Northern sky? Who can name it?

Jill could.

It was the same feeling that came to her at the teetering edge of a cliff at the end of the world. The same feeling as when she said her goodbyes to Puddleglum and Scrubb before they freed the prince. It was the same feeling that engulfed her now, sitting in the professor’s library with a volume of poetry before her.

The wild northern wastes were well named: utterly wild, perfectly desolate, and terribly Northern.

It was lonely there and often cold, but the sky was an endless whorl of gales and gray clouds. The stones were indigo under the pale winter sunlight, and at sunset they glowed a soft gold, as though lit from within. The gorges and moors lay before her, and Jill loved them for their vastness and their distance. Little grew in that country, but that which did was full of vigor. The grass was short and coarse. Every tree was victorious.

On a still, deep breathing winter night, Jill lay on her back beneath a covering sky. It seemed beautiful to her, rich and strong and glorious. Her eyes drank in the breadth of it until her tears began to blind her. Yet even then, she still couldn’t look away.

She felt bigger here in the wastes, like the landscape. Stronger, wider. The further she walked, the more she felt herself stretch out. One of these days, maybe, she would catch hold of herself at the edge and tug, and Jill Pole would open up clear as the Northern sky.

And through the misty air passed the mournful cry of sunward sailing cranes.

The thing that surprised Jill most about the battle with the serpent was this: there wasn’t any yelling. Always, it seemed, whenever she read stories about people fighting with swords, the combatants would let loose some guttural yell before their blows fell. They would scream and writhe in pain as they died. They would shout instructions to their fellows, “Look out!” or “Hit him there!” But the whole affair with the serpent passed with very little noise.

The poison-green coil constricted around the prince; he raised his arms and got clear, struck the serpent hard, and then Scrubb and Puddleglum dispatched the creature with heavy, hacking blows. The monster died writhing, but not screaming. And then it was over.

The thing that surprised Jill most about the moments before battle was, of course, the noise. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She couldn’t stop listening to her own breathing. Every footstep rang out like a gong, and any words exchanged rang with a kind of finality that made them sound louder than anything.

“You are of high courage,” Rilian told her when it was over.

Yet the thing in Jill’s chest just then didn’t feel like courage. It was a deep breath, a plunge, and a release. It was loud and quiet all at once, till she was standing, blinking in the night air as snowballs whizzed round her, and maybe that was something like courage after all.

And now, there was a stirring in her chest as she reread the words on the page. Sing no more / O ye bards of the North / Of Vikings and of Jarls! / Of the days of the Eld / preserve the freedom only / nor the deeds of blood!

She thought of grief. Of freedom.

The lonely ache in her belly grew stronger. She felt herself uplifted into the huge regions of sky that were just beyond those cliffs, weightless as the breath beneath her buoyed her up, further, further…

When she saw Caspian up close, Jill thought that he looked like the sort of person who was meant to live in a castle. A silly thought, perhaps, since she knew he was a king– only she wasn’t thinking of Cair Paravel. No, Jill was picturing the ruins of an old British castle she’d visited once on holiday. She still remembered how the stonework had loomed over her, all towering arches and crumbling walls. That was where Caspian seemed to belong. He had an air of ancient tragedy about him.

When Rilian disappeared, all things had wept but one. The serpent coiled beneath the earth and flicked its forked tongue, spewing poison.

Now, the king half rose to bless his son. He whispered a few words as he caressed Rilian’s cheek, words meant only for those beloved ears. Jill saw Caspian’s lips move and wondered what a man like that could possibly say, when time ran so short.

They laid him in his ship, with horse and harness, as on a funeral pyre. Odin placed a ring upon his finger, and whispered in his ear.

Jill furtively took Myths of the Northmen and held it up to the professor with a question in her eyes. She was still shy around him and Miss Plummer, though she wished she wasn’t.

“Would you like to take that with you?”

“...Please.”

It takes a certain kind of person to be exhilarated by the heights. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling.

They walked to the train station with an autumn wind blowing hard, and though Jill couldn’t fathom why, she turned and saw Lucy grinning, fierce and joyful– grinning and reaching a hand out towards her friend.

Jill reached back and grabbed it. “What will you do, once we’re back in Narnia?” she asked.

The wind blew harder. The feeling of anticipation grew and grew, until it felt so big that she couldn’t dream of containing it. And there was Lucy, holding Jill’s hand and laughing like it was easy.

Preserve the freedom only, not the deeds of blood!

The second time Jill went to Narnia, she found herself not at its edge, but at its end.

The thing about the Norse apocalypse is: it feels believable. It doesn’t reach beyond earth’s horizon to pull down hope beyond hope. It’s only the kind of courage that hopeless humans have: you are going to die, so you might as well die bravely.

They found the last king of Narnia bound to a tree. His eyes were faintly red from crying, and his wrists and ankles red from the coarseness of his fetters.

In the Norse myths, Loki broke free of his fetters at the end of the world. He escaped to the helm of a ship made from the fingernails of the dead.

The last king of Narnia fell forward onto the ground when Eustace cut his bonds. Jill crouched down beside him and watched as he rubbed feeling back into his legs. He wasn’t so much older than her, she thought. Jill was sixteen years old; the last king of Narnia could not be older than twenty-two.

In the myths, the gods were ancient, hewn from the bodies of giants old as the earth.

Jill put out a hand and helped the last king of Narnia to his feet. Not for the last time, she shivered. Something deep inside her (deeper than her chest, than her heart, than the marrow of her bones, deep as her soul, deeper) was singing an elegy and she didn’t know why, or how, or where it had come from. The king clutching her hand, who could have been her older brother, would have no heir.

Yet when he asked, “Will you come with me?” Jill could only smile.

“Of course,” she said. “It’s you we’ve come to help.”

And the voice forever cried, "Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!"

“This really is Narnia at last,” murmured Jill. The springtime wood had little in common with the wintry lands she had traveled the last time she was here– but it awakened the same feelings of Northernness in her chest.

Their party may as well have been the only people in the world, for how isolated their little wooden path seemed. Yet it wasn’t lonely, really, cocooned in all that green with the wind in the leaves and the primroses nodding and blue of the sky peeking through above.

Jewel told stories about what ordinary life was like when there was peace here. As he spoke, Jill could almost hear the trees' voices speaking out of the living past, whispering, stay, stay. She was caught up to a great height, looking down across a rich, lovely plain full of woods and waters and cornfields, which spread away and away till it got thin and misty from distance.

“Oh Jewel–” Jill said with a dreamy sigh, “wouldn’t it be lovely if Narnia just went on and on– like what you say it has been?”

She needn’t be a queen, as Susan and Lucy had been, but Jill would’ve liked to stay. She would've liked it all to stay, if it could. She might have been a woodmaid in a place like this: with the turn of the seasons, the swaying trees, swords into plowshares. Oh, if only she could stay!

Ahead, the last king of Narnia was softly singing a marching song. Jill tilted her head back and let warm shafts of sun caress her face.

I saw the pallid corpse of the dead sun borne through the Northern sky.

“So,” said the last king of Narnia, “Narnia is no more.”

He tried to send them back. Jill shook her head. It was very loud and very quiet. “No, no, no, we won’t. I don’t care what you say. We’re going to stick by you whatever happens, aren’t we Eustace?”

They couldn’t go back anyway. Neither would they flee, not south across the mountains nor North into the great wide wastes. No, they would stay. They slept in a holly grove on the edge of ruin, waiting for the bonfires to light.

Jill slept fitfully, but in between she dreamed. She was high up in the air, buffeted by clouds and pierced by shafts of silver sunlight.

They all died, in the myths. Jill knew that. It seemed beautiful and brave when she read it in her book, tucked away safe in the Professor’s library. It was terrifying now– and yet it was beautiful and brave still.

The dogs came bounding up, every one of them, running up to the king and his men with their tails wagging. One of them leapt at Jill and licked her face, tongue roughly lapping up the sweat and tears that had dried on her cheeks.

“Show us how to help, show us how, how, how!” the dogs were barking, almost ebullient in their enthusiasm. Jill bit back a sob. How lovely, she thought. How terribly beautiful. How dreadfully brave.

So perish the old Gods!

The white rock gleamed like a moon in the darkness when Jill finally reached it. She ran back to it alone, her hands shaking, while her friends stayed forward with their gleaming swords and Jewel’s indigo horn.

The while rock gleamed like the moon. Jill’s first shot flew wide and landed in the soft grass. But she had another arrow on her string the next instant. It was speed that mattered, not aim. Speed, and turning aside when she cried, so as not to drip tears on her bowstring.

The white rock gleamed. In the myths, a wolf devoured the moon. Peter’s wolf, slain many thousand years ago in this world, opened his jaw wide and darkness fell over everything.

Her next arrow found its mark. After that, she lost track. She pulled, and she prayed that her hands kept still another minute.

The unique thing–maybe the appealing thing–about the Norse myths, was that they told men to serve gods who were admittedly fighting with their backs to the wall and would certainly be defeated in the end. Jill let loose another arrow, felt the white rock at her back, and she knew that the clawing fear–beauty–bravery deep in her gut was the same feeling that she felt on the heights. The same feeling, but a different face. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling.

“I feel in my bones,” said Poggin, “that we shall all, one by one, pass through that dark door before morning. I can think of a hundred deaths that I would rather have died.”

“It is indeed a grim door,” said Tirian. “It is more like a mouth.”

“Oh, can’t we do anything to stop it,” said Jill. Better to be dashed to the ground than it was to be devoured.

“Nay, fair friend,” said Jewel. “It may be for us the door to Aslan’s country and we sup at his table tonight.”

A hand tangled itself in her hair and started to pull. Jill braced herself hard, for a moment, until her strength gave out. She was standing on the edge of a high, Northern cliff. She took another step, and fell.

Perhaps when the moment comes, our bite will prove better than our howls. If not, we shall have to confess that two millennia of Christianity have not yet brought us to the level of the Stoics and Vikings. For the worst (according to the flesh) that a Christian need face is to die in Christ and rise in Christ; some were content to die, and not to rise, with Father Odin.

The world inside the stable was beautiful. It made Jill’s chest ache in all the loveliest ways.

Build it again, O ye bards, fairer than before!

#okayyyy so #i've been down the tolkien/lewis/norse mythology rabbit hole lately #it's a lot #but i've been picking at this piece in my head for a while now #which is more a rhapsody than anything else #but another for my narnia/classic lit sequence of pieces #the quotes are mostly pulled from Longfellow's Tegners Drapa translation #which Jack discusses in Surprised by Joy as one of the works that inspired feelings of joy and 'Northernness' in his boyhood #there's also a Weight of Glory quote in there #(paraphrased)#and one from the intro to Joy Gresham's book on the 10 Commandments that Jack wrote #(that's that last passage in italics)#i'm not really sure i was trying to make a point with this so much as just. explore that feeling of northernness #bc really northernness is two things #it's joy and exhileration brought on by beauty #and it's that beautiful hopeless courage when faced with unwinnable battles #and i love how intertwined those two things are for lewis #and let's be honest for me too #so that's what this is #hope it holds together okay #narnia #chapter one #night under narnia #dying of thirst #pontifications and creations #leah stories

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bi-wan · 2 years

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Just one more kiss

Birthday countdown: 7/7!

Happy birthday to me! 🥳

Ko-fi 💕

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #of course i had to draw them 🥹#they make me so happy #being part of the obikin fandom has brought me so much joy this difficult year #thank you all #cam.png

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underwhelmingalchemist · 7 months

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I keep seeing anti-makeup posts and making fun of people for defending it, but like... The way I do makeup genuinely brings me joy and is an act of self-care. Sometimes, it's just fun to make my eyes rainbow and sparkly and/or draw tiny little bats on as freckles. I get criticizing makeup from a standpoint of "You shouldn't NEED to do this," but then some people go 100% and call people bootlickers if they dare to say that they enjoy makeup

#i drew little tiny bats on as freckles the other day and it brought me so much joy!#i did different styles of makeup in different pride flag colors for all of june #it's a tool of self expression! and it's one that brings me a lot of personal fulfillment #it's not about making myself more appealing it's about art!#makeup

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wttcsms · 4 days

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funny you mention when fic writers delete their fics cause i still remember that atsumu fic (counting blessings??) you wrote about him wondering if he made the right choice putting his family over his career and it was just sweet and crunchy and hgiturhj and it destroyed me and i'm pretyt sure it's gone forever but i just wanted to let you know i adored that fic even thought it was probably just a quick side quest for you

ok honestly, deleting my blog instead of archiving it was insane behavior & i regret it sm purely bc i miss all those atsumu fics 😭 it is for sure gone forever because i used to use tumblr's draft system instead of google docs (more insane behavior tbh) and i never crossposted to ao3 😭 many mistakes were made

but, it's funny that YOU mention this because i was seriously considering bringing back my dad!atsumu fic series (which im hoping is the fic you're remembering; i'm not sure if it is, but the one that i'm remembering is his kids accidentally breaking his trophy case and all his trophies and awards get ruined & there's introspection from him & how all these reporters and whatnot said he still had many years left in his prime & his early retirement is a mistake, etc.)

#no bc im making the banner rn for the one shot/drabble collection 😭#that series brought me so much silly joy i hope our memories are thinking up the same thing #if not though THANK U STILL FOR THE KIND WORDS!!!!#💌 favorite

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raycatz · 3 months

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I'm supposed to be doing homework but also,

isn't it interesting that there's Jojo's LinkedUniverse and then also the LinkedUniverse fandom's LinkedUniverse? That LU became a conduit through which to examine and compare and contrast Zelda games with this cast of characters as a base? That was their original intention and the fans went "heck yeah!" and ran with it? The LinkedUniverse fandom's LinkedUniverse is a monster of the week story where everyone contributes, it has hundreds of authors and storytellers all working together and trading tales. It's a scenario in which Jojo's LinkedUniverse is both the source material and also just one instance in the larger weave. And the LinkedUniverse fandom's LinkedUniverse lore deviates from (and is much deeper than imo) that of the original comic mainly because of that 1 person building a thing vs hundreds of people building a thing. And isn't that so cool?

But then also with the decline of the fandom I dunno I feel like the LinkedUniverse fandom's LinkedUniverse has been dying. Updates would spawn a burst of creativity and multitudes of branching ideas and what-if scenarios explored through art and fic and discussion, building on it, adding it in to pre-existing stories. I feel that activity around updates has been ticking more towards exploring the comic within the context of the comic itself, and less within the fandom's takes on it (not taking that step forward of "yes, and," and "yes-anding" fanworks as well.) Or not updates in particular, but the state of the fandom is deviating from taking this base and running and sharing to something more controlled and wary? Isolated?

The LinkedUniverse fandom is a phenomenon to me. And it's not something I think should be replicated in regards to other LinkVerse comics but it's also something beautiful and creative? Like, Jojo to a certain extent has or had lost control of the fandom's versions of these characters. She made them and we respect her wishes for them but they no longer belong to her?

The LU fandom's LU is a collectively written LinkVerse and exploration of the loz games, using these characters and relationships as a base (which is why I think people mistag by accident so much.) Sure, you could use the characters directly from the games or make your own LinkVerse to explore the relationships between the loz games. However, within the context of the LU fandom, you get the advantage of the template already being there for the character's personalities, meeting, secrets, and an open ended goal, and these things are understood by a large number of invested people, leading to this huge collaborative project.

This is what's so special about the LinkedUniverse fandom to me. Watching this thing be built and getting to be a contributing piece of it. Maybe it shouldn't have happened. Like, if something like that were to happen to anything I've made I think that'd be really scary. But it's also something incredible?

It's why I have a hard time accepting it when people say they hate the LU fandom. How could you hate the creativity? The shared stories? What's been made? Isn't it incredible? It's another LinkVerse, in a way, one that belongs to many. I hate the instances where people have tried to police the way the characters are written, both within the fandom and towards Jojo's comic, and the issues in communication, and callout posts asjhfksdf Problems in reconciling the LU fandom's LU, Jojo's LU, other LinkVerses, and gen loz. But the phenomenon of the fandom itself, the shared collaborative LU fandom's LinkedUniverse? I think it's such a cool thing. I think it's such a cool way to explore and examine the loz games and craft stories with so many other people.

I really enjoy all the LinkVerses that are around now. I don't think the fandom for LU is something that can be replicated. (or should?) (it's both something odd and a loss of control for Jojo but also a conduit for an incredible amount of creativity and community.)

It's really interesting to me. It's really interesting to witness. Or to have witnessed?

#rays random ramblings #I can't stop thinking about the LU meta #and all the shit's that happened ashjfsdfsdkhgf #but also- wtf it was so cool though?! This thing is so cool #and also like how the pandemic and quarantine likely contributed to how big this thing got as well #I need more people to talk about this with ajgshfsdf but also no #I feel like I should mourn this thing??? that's still alive? or has changed to something less recognizable?#mm... all the shit's that happened makes me sad and also so angry asjhgfddsf terribly conflicted #this thing that brought me so much joy and sparked so much creativity having such a bad rep now or has changed #aa..#but it's also brought me so much anxiety asjgfsdf #it's interesting I dunno #lu fandom

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months

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Hi! I wanted to congratulate you with finishing Season 1 of mdzs and thank you for your art and blog! It's really funny and always brightens my day.

I'm not an artist but I wanted to make something nice for you so please accept this (actually poorly-drawn) fanart and wishes to have inspiration and many plot bunnies for either Season 2 or other art projects, as well as nice summer (whichever form it takes wherever you are)!

Thank you again!

If I can impart anything (besides a good laugh out of readers) it's that the line between artist and non-artist is imaginary. You made this lovely piece of art; you are an artist now B*)

#fanart #thank you so much for this adorable art! I have tucked it into safe keeping in my favourite things folder B*)#I love the two ink pots...very real to how I make these comics (red and black micron ink pens (yes all of this is traditional))#All this beach art is really making me want to go lie in the sun....take a cat nap....snzzz #I am very happy to have brought joy to your day! I hope to keep up the fun throughout the next two seasons!#I have many fun things planned and am so excited to show them off!#May your day have as much joy as your art brought to me B*)#It is drawn! And made with a lot of love!#I am a misleading blog who regrets the depreciating blog title I started with! Do not fall into my same trap!

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tinyfrenchowl · 25 days

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Oh. Oh.

So this is what it means

To not be burnt out.

I left the office, and arrived

Home

With two pages scribbled on the metro

Of a comic I want to draw

A story I want