#there ya go
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The Lunar Oblivion
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Interesting bit about Bakugo’s character:
His eyes.
.
I was scrolling through some old liked videos on tiktok, and I encountered a post by user ttenkos (on tiktok) about how Katsuki’s eyes are hidden when he experiences a lot of hurt and emotion.
Because of that, it’s likely he’s crying here, they argued. (below)
Or he’s at least really hurt, and it’s apparent in his eyes.
And so a lot of us have made that connection. That Katsuki hides his face because he’s about to or is crying.
But like, I finally put two and two together and realized just how significant Katsuki’s eyes are—
Bakugo’s eyes betray his emotions.
Which is a trait unlike of any other character in My Hero.
This is established in the first damn chapter of the manga.
Bakugou’s eyes are like literally the thing that propelled this story forward because when Bakugo was shouting insults and blasting his quirk, they exposed his fear and motivated Izuku to act.
Then… Izuku tells Bakugo his secret. And the whole time, Bakugo is on the verge of crying.
From puffy eyes to a clouded glare, there’s something about his eyes in every panel.
He hides behind his hair for a while, and after that it’s revealed…
That Katsuki is crying :(
I love this scene so much. Wanna give it a kiss on the cheek /// there’s so much insight into their characters!
That same pattern is shown here:
And in that scene with Endeavor. But this time, he doesn’t cry when his eyes are exposed. Which I think says as much about his character as the previous examples.
.
.
.
And then there’s this, finally.
Yeah baby, that’s what I’ve been waiting for. That’s what it’s all about.
Anyways, there wasn’t really a point to this post. I just love what Horikoshi does with Bakugo’s character, and this little quirk (haha) of Bakugo just has a special place in my heart. So I wanted to share :)
#bakugou Katsuki#bakugo Katsuki#bakugo#bakugou#mha#bnha#mha 360#bnha 360#Kacchan#my hero#boku no hero#i love him so much#bkdk#bakudeku#Bakugo analysis#but not really#Bakugo summary!#there ya go#missingbk dkhours#missingbk-dkhours
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Potd?
#there ya go#it took me like 2 hours to decide whether to show the back or front because they're both cute!#peachy 🍑#lingering tease#asked and answered
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thinking about how if/when we get a rwrb sequel i think the central plot HAS to be alex becoming disenchanted with politics and henry giving up his title. not only is it what happens in the book, but also makes sense with how to handle this story in the current world that we live in. it has to be them in new york finding their way and alex naturally realizing he wants a quieter life as henry has his own seperate emotional growth, you know? they don't need any actual roadblock or conflict between them as a couple, they just need to have seperate journeys together that lead to the same destination. does that make sense?
the sequel just needs to be what we already have in bookverse post canon just expanded on.
also i want more kisses and sex and cuddles.
#rwrb#they could bring june in just as nora's gf or something#alex could be like oh she's like a sister to me#there ya go
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I'm obsessed with the idea of Alastor and Lucifer being in a QPR but those two can't be normal about anything so instead of being in a queerplatonic relationship, they'd be in a queerplatonic RIVALRY
Idk how to explain but they'd have this immense queerplatonic tension between them that could have started as mocking politeness so they end up with like an increasingly intense angry-friendliness situation going on lmao
#hey fic writers#please let this inspire youuu#im dying AND living for this concept#op is always full of rage and vague queerplatonic yearning#shit i should tag that#queerplatonic yearning#there ya go#radioapple#appleradio#hazbin alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#queerplatonic#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hells greatest dad
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adeptas sororitas - solitary requiem
did this in teeny tiny sittings over weeks, just for myself. was not a planned image but just felt nice to paint one of my fav subjects while listening to metal
#warhammer 40k#adeptas sororitas#sisters of battle#warhammer 40000#40k#warhammer fanart#fanart#love these ladies#it's my brand to draw them not kicking ass but just kinda being quiet in all their armor#there ya go#personal piece#promise i'll draw something besides people walking at camera next time lol#my brain is mush
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Genuinely curious and not trying to be rude, but how did you get to your initial pronounciation? Like, where do you see the "Tay" coming from? The "tte" grouping?
Also, if you're willing to share: is English your first language? Either way, what kind of accent do you speak with (French, New Yorker, Boston, Canadian, etc.)
Super curious how people get to these kinds of conclusions.
I'm from the middle of the East Coast, in the city they used to call Chocolate (Atlanta has that crown now).
I grew up around three(?) "Devonte"'s and an "Ashante".
Those two are pronounced...De-VAUGHN-TAE and Ah-SHAUN-TAE.
So, I saw "Miette" and my head said that cat's name is definitely My-Tae!
*smh*
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inspired by the rubio quote on emily - I understand believing the LMM heroines leaving their ambitions behind is somewhat necessitated by the historical context, and I sympathize with those who would have preferred a different ending for Anne or Emily...but also (esp w Anne), I find it the line of thinking frustrating because (1) it's a false dichotomy that's (2) belied by the text imo and (3) somewhat dismissive of marriage as less than. Anne keeps writing after her marriage. She reads her poems aloud to her family and (iirc) inspires her children to do the same. Just because Emily is marrying Teddy doesn't mean she'll stop writing. The text gives us literally no reason to think that, and in fact explicitly states the opposite when Emily says that she has to write. No matter what, she has to write. If Anne, who doesn't demonstrate Emily's level of ambition, keeps writing, it's nearly laughable to think that Emily wouldn't.
What's especially frustrating is that repeatedly, LM Montgomery's stories focus on the importance of community and family in shaping, sourcing, and strengthening creativity. In Emily, it's explicitly stated that she couldn't have written her breakthrough novel if she had moved to New York and followed her ambitions as such. That's doesn't necessarily translate to romantic support, but romantic support is one form of that! Certainly, these heroines all have domestic endings; it's almost as if LM Montgomery's defining characteristic is finding beauty and power in domesticity, all while acknowledging domesticity doesn't exclude talent and ambition. Her thesis is that women can, and do, contain both. Anne can dream of handsome princes one day and publication the next because you know what--quite a lot of girls do! Emily can fiercely chase publication and long for companionship because you know what - that's the most human thing imaginable!
Acting as if marriage is an imprisonment or hindrance of some sort while LM Montgomery's heroes are marked by being supportive of their wives' talents and ambition (Gilbert is unthreatened by Anne's intelligence; Teddy understands Emily's ambition) ignores the major themes of the novels. It also fails to grapple with the historical barriers faced in a substantive or satisfying manner; it simply poo-poos the semi-requirement of marriage as the happy ending all while ignoring how radical the statements that first, women have ambitions and, second, their ideal partner would support those ambitions, were for the time.
The position also assumes that publication is the only legitimate form of success for writers, and similarly, "real" success requires recognition. It ignores the inherent value of creativity, inserts its own standards for success, all while ignoring what the heroines themselves state they want. Anne wanted marriage and babies; Emily is deeply lonely at the end of Emily's Quest and desires a companion who understands her. LM Montgomery actually directly addresses the idea that Gilbert stole Anne from her ambitions in TBAQ, and Anne laughs at the idea. For Emily, it's more understandable because she does value publication and is very ambitious, but that's where point number one comes in. Would the critics of her (admittedly rushed and slapdash) ending prefer that she stay alone surrounded by people who don't fully understand her? If anything, it's implied that Teddy will enhance Emily's creativity by providing the support she needs, and has in the past when he literally gives her the idea for her first novel, A Seller of Dreams.
I understand the cut and paste ending of "love husband marriage babies" can get to be tiring, especially when presented as the "right" path for women. I admit that the historical context - and pressure - here is impossible to ignore. After all, the examples I gave above are only legitimate to the extent LM Montgomery legitimized them; there could have easily have been a version of the story where Emily only succeeded because she moved to New York. Even LM Montgomery, as mentioned above, writes Gilbert explicitly saying that he regrets that he stole Anne's talent from the world. Sexism is definitely present in these novels. Still, the condescending tone when talking about these ending irks me. In the end, I guess I find the sainting of ambition as ridiculous as I find the sainting of marriage and babies as paths for women. One's as gross a simplification as the other.
At the end of the day as well, LM Montgomery writes slice of life novels based on the charm of rural PEI and local community. She focuses on the everyday purposefully. Complaining that she doesn't have heroines who move beyond domesticity (although really, she does with Sara Stanley) is like going to a pizza parlor and complaining when you get served pizza. Again, this only works to the extent that you agree with LM Montgomery's presentation - but there's something silly in complaining that her slice of life semi-romance novels from the late 1800s-early 1900s all end in marriage for the heroine.
#like sure some women love to stay single and chase their dreams and you know what that's awesome#i am literally one of them#not these women#there ya go#this has been my pounded out rant post i made on too little sleep so forgive any ridiculous logical holes#also women *can* have both#tho that of course opens a deeper can of worms about failure of support networks and unfair societal expectations#there's a whole watsonian and doylist discussion to be had here i know#as in on the watsonian level it's fine on the doylist you can question it more#but the implication is that a woman's character arc ending in marriage is inherently sexist with which i do not agree#emily of new moon#aogg#lm montgomery
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I used to think I could contribute beautiful things to a fandom. I have since reevaluated this
#mp100#mob psycho 100#shigeo kageyama#reigen arataka#Dimple#meme#shitpost#fanart#art#my art#This took longer than I want to admit#but it brings me joy to look at still so there#did NOT think this was going to be my first art for the show but#there ya go
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Down to the last bottle
Trigun Stampede | Wolfwood x Meryl x Vash | Missing Scenes: Episode 10
A What If Meryl had managed to drag Vash into that elevator with her and Roberto, and stopped him and Wolfwood before it was too late?
Read on ao3 here.
__
“How many drinks have you had, little miss?”
Meryl doesn’t remember, or care, how many of these twice her size kegs of whiskey she’s had. All that matters is that she still knows exactly why she’s drinking, can still see his face, the pain-filled smile, her name on his lips as life bled out of him. It’s seared into her brain, seeping into her skin and settling in her bones – an ache that will stay with her for the rest of her life.
Even Wolfwood’s playful nickname for her only sends a pang through her heart. He’s right, isn’t he – she’s just a little girl who rushed into danger and got her mentor killed.
“I’m still average sized,” is what she says, remembering the way Vash would force his lips into a smile even when his heart seemed to have shattered into a million pieces.
“Still not big enough to down all that whiskey.”
Meryl almost laughs, but reaches for another swig instead. Before she can grab a hold of it, the bottle is snatched out of her hand with such vigour that her chair almost tips back. “Hey!”
Wolfwood just grins – not his usual one, but an emptier version, filled instead with the pain of a lost brother, of never-breaking chains. He lets himself fall into the chair next to her, shoulder bumping hers. “Sharing is caring,” he says and tips the bottle up.
They stay like this, enjoy that single moment of reprieve as long as they can. With nothing to do, Meryl feels her hands shake. Does she even deserve to make them rest? Shouldn’t she be going after those responsible for the empty seat across from them?
“Did he ask for a drink before?”
The clank of the bottle being set back onto the table almost drowns out Wolfwood’s words. His muscles look stiff, like he wants to reach out but doesn’t know how.
“Yeah, he–,” she tries, but chokes up. Her throat feels so thick. As if stubbornly contradicting her thoughts, Wolfwood’s hand brushes over her back and settles between her shoulder blades. The sob wretches out of her mouth.
“It’s my fault,” she sobs, and believes it, believes it in the very depths of her heart, “It’s my fault he died.”
“Hey now..”
“You know I’m right,” fingers curling into fists, nails cutting into her palm, “If I had just listened to him and stopped running into trouble, stopped sticking my nose into things I shouldn’t, then he wouldn’t– he wouldn’t have–”
“People die.” His voice sounds calm, repeating a phrase he’s told himself countless times before. And yet, his fingers dig into her skin, as if they hurt to say. “It might be your fault, it might not, but at the end of the day, people die. And you survived.”
Dragging her forearm across her face, Meryl snivels. “But it’s not fair.”
There’s bitterness in Wolfwood’s smile. “Life isn’t fair, princess.”
She’s learnt that now. To think that only months ago, she was living a cosy life with the only ambition of joining a newsdesk in the pursuit of justice, when she didn’t even know what justice was. The arm at her back sneaks around her shoulders, pulling her closer with a playful laugh.
“Any more confessions to make while your priest is sober?”
“Shut up, you’re not even a real priest.”
They both stiffen when they spot a familiar figure slouching into the bar. As usual, Vash had left without another word after both him and Wolfwood dragged Meryl out of that elevator. She’s glad he headed her warning for once and didn’t walk into what was so obviously a trap. Still, Meryl lets her eyes wander over him as he lets himself drop down on her other side. There is something void about him, like another piece of him had been forcefully chaffed away.
But he’s here, with them.
Scooching over, Meryl carefully leans her head against his shoulder. She feels him stiffen, the physical contact too much and she almost jerks away to give him the space he needs. Before she can, his entire body relaxes, face sinking into her hair with a sigh. He nuzzles into her, nodding shallowly into Wolfwood’s direction. “How are you two holding up?”
Wolfwood raises his cigarette in a faux salute. “She’s down to her last bottle and this is my last cigarette. That’s pretty much it. What are you out of, blondie?”
Vash just laughs, pulls her a little closer. The message is clear.
Ever the observer, Vash nudges Meryl next, eyes burning into the gun lying on the table. “Did he give that gun to you?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, thinking back to that ugly spike of hatred that flared up in her, that want to take and take until what was taken from her was avenged, the emptiness when Wolfwood dragged her out. “I wanted to use it earlier. But I didn’t.”
His body presses closer to hers. “Meryl.”
“Tch,” Wolfwood scoffs, before she feels his arm back around her shoulder, fingers clamping around Vash’s coat, “you two are just the same. Seems like you’re gonna need me to look after you a little longer, huh?”
“If you want to be taken care of, Nico, just say so.”
She feels him smile into her hair. It’s a little broken, but they all are.
#trigun stampede#trigun#mashwood#meryl x vash x wolfwood#trigun fic#vash x meryl x wolfwood#vashmeryl#vashwood#my writings#there ya go#what have u done nightow three perfectly fine characters and theyre all depressed
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Please please write this thesis I will read it
"Why the Britcedes ping pong video is the greatest F1 content ever produced: a visual analysis"
Main arguments:
Mercedes just finding them a new table because the old one wasn't bouncy enough??
George complaining about the spot where Lewis put the net thingy, moving it, and making sure it's in the middle with an intensity that you'd think he's looking at nuclear codes
"That is such a big bounce"
"Body shot! Body shot!" while jumping up and down and smiling like a little kid
George being very serious while keeping track of the points
"Oh my world, it's ALLLLLL gone wrong"
'Ai ai ai"
George's face when he wins
THE BEST ONE: Lewis asks for a rematch as George puts his racket down on the table, starts walking towards the door, he then puts his arms up and says something like "I don't want to"; Lewis then starts hitting his racket against the table, says rematch again and George IMMEDIATELY agrees and says one more
#I edited the whole video so I could add videos instead of pics#but then I remembered tumblr only allows one video per post#anyway!!!!#there ya go#britcedes#george russell#lewis hamilton#answered
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Human Cactus Von Garlic. I was bored
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why do so many people see sams very large giant 6'4" body, his sweet honest demeanor, bright crooked smile that lights up his entire face, kind pure heart, silent but deadly heart break, those puppy dog eyes, and think 'that man would rather hold and treasure then be held and treasured' ??
that man wants to be held and he needs to feel fucking treasured.
he wants to feel arms wrapped around him and a chin being dug into his shoulder. fingers softly scratching his scalp. he sometimes wants to curl in so deep he disappears.
dean. deans hold, arms and fingers specifically. sometimes he wishes he could disappear inside dean.
and I think the reason why dean will always see sam as his small baby brother that needs protecting is because dean knows that.
sam is traumatized and no matter how much he argues his need to be independent and no matter how hard he tries to stay healthy, positive and not stuck in his own thoughts, i bet there are those rare times when he's weak - in his time of need - and the only thing that'll comfort him is to remember when dean used to tell him 'if you cant see them they cant see you' and he was naive enough to believe it. being small enough to fit safe and snuggled underneath deans arm. small enough to slip behind dean when he was unsure, scared or shy to hide instead of hover. small enough where dean could envelop sam into his arms and sam could barely see (be seen) by anyone.
and sometimes he needs that, he needs that, he needs that. (dean will always know that.)
that big macho man who we've seen grip and drag a woman into his lap just to get a high will eventually come down from that high and reality will come crashing down. and when that happens, he wants to be held and told he's good by the one person who he's always held in the highest regards.
he needs dean pressed up against him - protecting and steady - telling him he's good. he's so good. it doesn't matter what the demons, angels, what their own father had said.
'you are the greatest thing that's ever happened to me Sammy, the greatest thing that's ever happened to this world.' and it feels good and almost true, even though it won't last long (even though dean means it, means it, no matter fucking what means it), it feels so good coming from his big brother.
he'll close his eyes and breathe in deep, trying to ignore the instincts that argue against dean's praises, 'my sam. you'll always be my Sammy.' dean would softly nose the back of sams neck causing him to shiver, 'me and everything and everybody in this godforsaken world is lucky to have you. so so fucking lucky sam.'
dean is so full of shit, he'll even repeatedly say that 'no chick flicks moment' moto till he's blue in the face. but now look at him.
and remembering that usually makes sam feel light hearted and humored enough to 'just let it go, little brother.'
ffs just bc sams 6'4" giant and deadly doesn't mean he doesn't need to be held and feel treasured.
#spn#supernatural#samdean#wincest#sam winchester#dean winchester#i wrote hardly 100 words and this shit took me 3 hours#this is why i dont write#uGh#to be deleted#@wincestisnotabuse#There ya go#My stuff
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much like digby and wilma thistlespring's lawnmower i too was built for pleasure and lawn maintenance
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🪲
(Context: This ask game)
🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here
Not this game getting me to write ahead of time instead of all in one sitting-
This is the opening of Chapter 18 of Sweet & Sour Dipplins (it's unnamed as of now; what you're seeing may be subject to change but prolly not by much lmao):
Kieran’s POV
Kieran nearly gasped for air after screaming at the top of his lungs. There was a high-pitched, piercing ring that beated through his heated ears. There was an intense pressure that was building on him - he could feel the gaping daggers that were being shot from Juliana’s friends.
“So it IS true?!” Arven squawked. “The both of you are dating?!”
His eyes locked on to Drayton, and his leisurely posture seemed all too unaffected by the commotion that was erupting. He seemed somewhat perked, but he was all too muted, all too composed…
Had he PLANNED this?!
As Kieran shifted his focus back on Juliana, who seemed uncharacteristically flushed and as if the world was spinning around her, a booming shrill grated from behind him.
“HEYYYYYYY, you guys find the pokemon okay?”
The exclamation was uneven and bounced with the roar of spriting footsteps that were coming from the elongated echochamber that was the hallway between Terrarium and the rest of the school.. There was only one new person that seemed to bellow as loudly as his sister, and that was…
“Nemona!” Juliana squeaked, her face growing pale.
“OH, NEMONA,” Arven called out in what seemed to be strained exasperation. His arms began to flail wildly, and Kieran nearly stepped backwards as he pointed back and forth between him and Juliana. “THEY’RE APPARENTLY DATING! DID YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS?!”
Kieran felt Juliana’s Applin press into him as he wailed in surprise. Kieran tightened his grip around the pokemon as it retreated into him, and Nemona dashed past him in a boisterous frenzy. As she bent to the side and broke her speed with an abrupt halt in front of Arven, a small cloud of dust was kicked up from the powdery dirt below them.
Nemona began to look around frantically. “¿QUUUUUUUEEEEEEEÉ? Y-you! And you, Juliana?!”
Arven began to grit through his teeth. “Who even are you, anyway?!” He whipped around in a swift, harsh movement. “And Juliana, why didn’t you tell us?!”
“Hey!” Kieran growled.
#this was more than 50 words but I had time to type it soooo#there ya go#asks#ask game#my fics#dipplinshipping#kieran pokemon#kieran x juliana pokemon#juliana x kieran pokemon#kieran x juliana#juliana pokemon#juliana x kieran
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