#But that isn’t today

[watermelonsloth]

Why I Don’t Ship NaruSaku

Since I don’t want to get too predictable and I’ve picked on SasuSaku enough, I want to explain why I’ve never really committed to shipping NaruSaku.

If you’ve been on my blog or seen some of my posts floating around, you’d likely know that I’ve (sort of) praised NaruSaku in the past. Specifically I’ve said that they should’ve been canon. But, while I stand by that, I don’t actually like the ship itself that much. To be clear, I don’t ship based on canon interactions (quantity or quality) nor do I ship based on what I want or expect to be end-game. I ship characters based on how well I think they can help each other grow.

I’d say that most characters either need someone who is similar to them (they may need relatability/understanding or someone who can affirm their worldview) or they need someone very different than themselves (they may need someone to call them out on problems they don’t notice/recognize or need someone to cover their weaknesses). Both Naruto and Sakura, in my opinion, need someone very different than themselves. Of course, Naruto and Sakura are distinguishable from one another, but they’re similar in ways that lead me to believe that they’d suck at checking each other’s blind spots.

Could Sakura help Naruto study better? Yes. Could Naruto help Sakura become stronger? Also yes. Could Sakura teach Naruto when to hold his tongue and better read the room? Absolutely. Could Naruto inspire Sakura to have more faith in others? Without a doubt. But if you’ve noticed the pattern, you’ve noticed the problem. Naruto and Sakura are really good for helping each other hone their skills or become better in areas where growth is unnecessary.

I’m a firm believer in the idea that nothing is a problem until it negatively impacts your quality of life (with very few exceptions). No one has to polish their personality to perfection and I don’t think it’s healthy to try. Naruto and Sakura don’t have to perfect their skills in areas just because they struggle, Naruto doesn’t have to become a proper master of communication, and Sakura doesn’t have to hold back on making judgements. Working to overcome every flaw doesn’t make a person/character a better person, it makes them boring and unrecognizable. Meanwhile, in the areas they do need to work on, they aren’t really equipped to help each other. Primarily because they have the same problems.

Both of them struggle with priorities (putting Sasuke above their other friends and goals, ignoring the need for justice/closure in the pursuit of peace/calm, etc). Both of them ignore their personal needs in favor of helping other people. Both of them assume that they can solve problems better than the people around them, even if those problems aren’t theirs to solve. These are pretty major character flaws that have resulted in people (including themselves) getting hurt, these are what they most need to work on. Neither of them (at least as far as I can tell) would be able to help the other in recognizing these as genuine problems and then help them navigate (or at least motivate each other to navigate) possible solutions.

Have Naruto and Sakura helped each other grow in canon? Yes. Are Naruto and Sakura capable of being good influences on each other and help each other grow in other ways? Yes. Could Naruto and Sakura reasonably assist each other in overcoming their greatest weaknesses? Eeeeeeeehhhhhhh…

[desultory-suggestions]

On this Valentine’s Day please don’t forget about the Palestinian people. Candy is being bought in droves while innocent people are starving. While people are planning romantic dinners for their lovers, Palestinian people are losing their lovers to bombs and snipers. There is no rest for the Palestinian people today. Don’t let them mask what’s really happening behind pink ribbon. Fight for love, find empowerment in your love for others. We will not stop fighting, not for a single day. Palestine will be free.

[im-still-watching-anime]

apollo’s confidence in court: oh my god i’m the worst lawyer ever my client is going to go to JAIL because i can’t even do my JOB

apollo’s confidence outside of court: i’m the only smart one here, i’m the most normal guy in the world and NO ONE is doing it like i am, investigations are EASY, klavier gavin wants me carnally

[beegs-bugs]

Live footage of Jon gaslighting himself into thinking he’s only jealous of Peter Lukas because Martin is such a good assistant. No other reason.

Art by my irl friend Vin Who Isn’t On Tumblr

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Truly one of the absolute biggest bummers to selling beds is the two versions of “give me the cheapest bed you have.” This happens most frequently for 1. Children or 2. Old people.

Basically someone has a persons sleep health entirely in their power and decides to give them the absolute shittiest possible bed because they’re not worth more.

I merely resent cheap kids bed people. Upper middle class parents who casually assure me their cherished boy child doesn’t need anything wimpy like foam on his bed, and no, he doesn’t need back support despite doing almost all his growing in his sleep.

But I truly loathe the douchebags who come in from their fancy ass cars wearing watches that cost thousands and inform me their parent is moving into assisted living and they need a cheap bed for them to die on.

It’s not every time. Sometimes people come in on a budget because they can’t afford more but they generally want nice things for their dependents. But the callous way I’ve seen elders and children referred to and dismissed just bums me the fuck out every time.

[raddestrose]

I made some svsss ones

[valentimmy]

his favorite hobby is tormenting cloud 🔥

[soupfather]

Erm, what the flip guys

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer with pupils

That’s it, that’s the post

[0vergrowngraveyard]

werehog hurt little brother??? werehog monster????

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt

Tim is a genius, so it’s really no surprise that he’s got the number of each batfamily member saved in his phone long before he becomes Robin.

But then Jason dies (and comes back to life) and Tim is struggling to keep Bruce alive and Dick from spiraling.

To cope with the stress of having the lives of Gotham’s two most important vigilantes depend on him he starts leaving Jason voicemails and text messages on his old number detailing progress and setbacks, fears and hopes, and the dream of finally finding somewhere he belongs. Along with the crushing realization that Tim’s own hero — Jason— is long dead.

Unbeknownst to Tim, Jason listens to and reads every single one of the messages.

[panthermouthh]

And I said, “Hello, Satan

I believe it’s time to go.”

[timethehobo]

Take another heartbroken Emmy just because.

[luneariann]

Hhh

[nellasbookplanet]

Laudna truly is the personification of why loving someone else isn’t enough to heal you from trauma: you must love and value yourself, too. Laudna loves Imogen and will do everything for her, but she doesn’t love herself, and because of that views herself as acceptable collateral in The Cause Of Imogen. Because she sees no inherent value in herself, she also doesn’t understand that Imogen sees value in her, and that hurting herself ultimately hurts Imogen too. Instead she gets upset because she’s giving up so much for Imogen and Imogen doesn’t appreciate it, has even expressed disgust at it. Meanwhile Imogen is falling into despair because no matter how much support she gives Laudna she just keeps self-destructing, because she is desperately clinging to the idea that she has no inherent worth as a person. In the end, no external force will be enough to save Laudna. No one but Laudna can fight Delilah, and no one but Laudna can give her self-worth.