#bs part 1
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Только я вижу здесь слово “пиво”? XD
Папеньку едва уговорила пару неизвестных кустов ободрать xD Потом еще пару новых лягушек нашел и я его оставила в покое. Оставшись без присмотра Серхио быстро убежал в палатку спать XD
А Сереге дай волю - целый день будет с удочкой стоять XD
Но коллекции сами не соберутся. Отправила его ловить всяких насекомых.
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Hey now, Let her cook!
#dungeon meshi#chilchuck tims#senshi#laios touden#marcille donato#izutsumi#oyasumi punpun#<- In case you are wondering what the source for the little bird guy is.#Yeah that's right. I'm back to my extremely obscure crossover BS.#Punpun is one of those series that falls under the category of 'Good! but I cannot responsibly recommend this to anyone."#If Dungeon Meshi is like a friend asking you to go on a quick errand and you accidently go on a life changing roadtrip -#Punpun is your friend asking to go on a quick errand and they pull up to the vet and tell you your dog is being put down.#Then they explode into sludge. Melting your car. You hitchhike back but the person who picked you up is an axe murderer.#I could not finish it. My friends who did say it was good. But agree it was for the best I did not finish it.#Hey speaking of tone twists...We are one episode away from one of my favourite chapters being animated!#WHO'S READY FOR THE SENSHI BACKSTORY! WHO IS READY TO CRY!#ME! I AM! I spooked my flatmate with how energetic I was this morning. I'm vibrating with energy I was not designed to contain.#I should talk about today's episode here: It was very good. I love how they animated the familiars.#And!!! Anime only people now are in the loop on the Chilchuck lore. Part 1 of many. He still contains multitudes.#They all do to be honest! If this episode told us anything it was that we still don't know these characters as well as we think!#See you guys next week. I'll be inconsolable.
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out of context lyric discussion doodles solely because you guys like this... thing.... or.... whatever he is........
#i never ever ever draw bs spam or addispam because. i dont know what i want him to look like. it always changes.#i dont know what he'd look like.................. and you know what he probably doesnt entirely remember fully either so THATS MY EXCUSE#and also because its weirdly hard to draw them??? i start with his glasses n then frame everything around it usually#(which is probably causing me a lot of consistency issues but idc)#but like... what glasses.... how do i draw him theres no glasses to build his face off of#a few times before i drew the glasses first. framed the face. and THEN erased it because of how integral that part is to me#haha anyways i never draw these guys so. crumbs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i prefer the more fucked up freakass spamton anyways to be honest#i love mspaint sm is it obvious#AJWYAYYS I WANT TO DO ASKS!!!!!!!11I KEEP ACCIDENTALLY DISTRACTING MYSELF!!!!!!!1 THE VICIOUS CYCLE!!!#hi luka pretend this isnt here
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#I wanted to do bs as the office quotes for a while now#part 1 perhaps???#black sails#james flint#john silver#billy bones#black sails crack#bs as the office
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does anyone else obsessively scroll through their own art tag or reread their own fics scrutinizing every detail and trying to determine whether it’s Actually Good or not or am I just a freak lol
#I’m always staring at my art like ‘ok if I were just scrolling and came across this piece and it wasn’t mine would I think it was good#would I look at my stuff and think I was worth following#as if it EVEN MATTERS !!#‘good’ is subjective and all art has value bc it is a creative expression of meaning to the artist!#what’s this bs part of my brain that wants so badly to Be Really Good at things like I’m having a nice time isn’t that enough for u. omg#me rereading my own fics: how would I rate this on a scale of 1 to 10. if I weren’t me would I click out or keep reading#puts myself in a chokehold. literally get over urself bro
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you can always tell when someone doesn't have maga men in their life and god it makes me angry.. "if you're nice and compassionate you can be the one woman that makes them realize women aren't mean!" my mom bent over backwards for my dad for 25 fucking years he has plenty of other women kissing his ass and it never changed anything. do you really think that before being radicalized they never knew a single kind woman? they were never friends with a nice girl? alt-right men's problem with women isn't just that they've experienced too many mean women and they need to be shown that women can be nice, it's that they think women are inferior and don't deserve rights and don't understand anything so you can do what you want with them. and it takes a lot more than being nice to show someone that you aren't inferior. this isn't a case of being nice even when it's hard for the sake of deradicalization, it's about spending every fucking interaction with someone trying to get them to see you as a human being with value and a functioning intellect while they just laugh and show you that's never going to happen.
i cannot stress this enough: random women are not just going out and Being Mean to men. ur average guy interacts with plenty of women throughout his life- close women amongst their friends and family, casual interactions etc. most people don't start out being shunned by women, they start out being treated as NORMAL. & when they show their disrespect in normal society, it isn't tolerated, but when they go to alt-right spaces (which they're pushed towards online) they're told they're allowed to be as horrible as they want with no consequences because they're entitled to everything. it isn't "women aren't welcoming and the alt-right is so friendly so i'll become alt-right," it's "women don't let me disrespect them and the alt-right tells me fuck them, do whatever you want, you're entitled to it all" and why would you choose the group where you have to be a normal accountable person when there's a group that will reward you for being a shithead who gives no fucks?
the alt-right can afford to be more friendly and welcoming because they can allow bigotry. this can't work the same way for progressive spaces because we can be as kind & welcoming as possible but at the end of the day we have lines where we have to say "this behavior/speech isn't allowed in this space," and for certain people, that just can't win against a space where you can be as nasty as you want. these posts always end with a disclaimer saying "of course being kind doesnt mean you need to tolerate their bigotries" but what they don't realize and what drives me crazy is that women not tolerating bigotry IS the "women are mean" that radicalized them in the first place. they perceive you pushing back on any bigotry or bullshit as you being a meanie and treating them like they're ontologically evil. the 'kindness' they need to be deradicalized is you letting them walk all over you.
idk what the answer is to deradicalizing them and im sure relationships are part of it but you can be as kind as you want and all it will do is destroy you ime. i cant stand to see people (who have never even successfully deradicalized any man by being nice btw they always speak in hypotheticals and not from experience) double down on telling women to do things that will see no results and only hurt them, especially when any woman who has tried can tell you exactly how it went
#being as nasty as possible & shitting on everyone while giving no fucks makes you popular in certain spaces. that's tempting no matter what#to immature ppl. part of growing up is learning that you cant do that and real relationships need you to not do that#but that sucks. you could just ignore it and join the alt-right to be a manchild forever#if ur an asshole who wld u wanna hang out with: ur wife who says please dont be an asshole to me or ur bros who say she's a hysterical bitc#& u did nothing wrong?#if u had a maga dad/brother/uncle & u heard the way they talk about women its never abt being mean lol#it's abt how women are hysterical & sensitive & get upset at everything they do#im so sorry but a normal guy (i know & am friends with many) doesnt simply become an MRA because his girl friends made 1 men suck joke#if a guy truly has no fulfilling friendships with women or girls to the point where some feminist group 'being too mean' can radicalize him#bc he doesnt have any kind women in his life to prove that wrong. he already had issues.#you reach a certain point in your friendship with these guys where youve been SO kind and so supportive and welcoming and played therapist#for ages and then they turn around and say 'im voting trump cuz i like his personality better lol i dont care about rights and that bs'#even if you can deradicalize someone by being kind thats years of insane unreciprocated energy for ONE guy#who will end up being the person who never posts abt feminism except to say i became alt right because women were mean so be nice girls!#nobody tells anyone else to accept full blown bigots in their spaces either much less BEFRIEND them#bc nobody is expected to do this kind of service except women. <3#eat ass.
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I've decided the only reason Lloyd, known descendant of dragons, didn't tell this to Egalt, who refuses to train non-dragons, is for the same reason he never mentioned he's the First Spinjitsu Master's grandson. It just never came up. Nobody asked him directly about it. And besides, he's only like, one-fourth dragon, so does it really count? He doesn't look like a dragon, and he has never in his life considered himself a dragon. Mentioning his ancestry to Egalt probably would've just made him look like some hotshot, or make him more annoyed. There's no need to bring up such a silly little fact. He's sure it won't be important later.
#ninjago#ninjago dragons rising#lego ninjago#dragons rising#lloyd garmadon#first spinjitsu master#egalt#text post#talk#dragon lloyd garmadon#the real likelihood is that the writers just quietly brushed that little fact aside (im so sad abt it)#but i think its infinietly funnier that lloyd went down the spinjitsu master route#it just never came up. no one asked. and hes not a COMPLETE dragon so like. why bother telling egalt#the whole time i was waiting for egalt & rontu to b like 'WHO in their SPINJITSUDAMED MIND trained you'#and theyre just like 'oh this guy named sensei wu hes lloyds uncle hes like a master' & egalt is like 'sounds like bs'#then arin as a huge nerd pipes up like 'AND HES THE FSM'S GRANDSON :D'#to which rontu and egalt break their necks whirling around like 'THIS SCRAWNY LITTLE PUNK IS W H A T'#egalt straight up refuses to believe it. rontu is very quickly doing the math & freaking out abt it#wherever these guys are from it might not even be ninjago so like they might not even know the fsm had sons#rontu: im sorry. so youre the grandson. you are aware your grandfather was half dragon half oni. right?#egalt in the background 'THAT BOY IS N O T A DRAOGN I REFUSE TO BELIEVE IT'#lloyd blinking owlishly like 'oh yeah i guess so. im only like 1/4th tho'#'BOY YOU ARE 1/4 OF ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL DRAGONS IN FCKING EXISTANCE'#'YOU ARE THE GRANDSON OF MY GREAT-GREAT GRANDMASTER'#the midlife crisis these dragons would have. the crisis the kids would have realizing this#lloyd now cannot go 3 minutes without someone asking 'is there any world-shattering fun facts abt yrself you wanna share'#the fun part is that lloyd forgets all of those informations bc its like. a normal day for him#no one tell wyldfyre she'll flip
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i'm tired, boss
#ffxiv stuff#at least 3 new outfits plus hair... really?#we're hitting a korean mmo level of p2w bs#and the worst part is how reddit is happily waving their credit cards at the shop#meanwhile from gameplay we got 1 crafted set. 1 ugly vanguard reskin for pvp. 1 emote. 1 ugly hair
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bea - eviscerate + stitch
this dark is everywhere, we said (and called it light)
a percy jackson au
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Lilith wakes to the latent heat of volcanic glass seeping up through the palms of her hands, lacing along the blade of her cheekbone, drinking down the tears that scatter out of her lashes as she lurches awake, gasping.
She’s lying spreadeagled on hard, garish black rock, glittering with the reflection of enormous stalactites – a ceiling of sharp ends diving down out of the gloom. Her hair, distinguishable only as a more greyish shade of black, is stuck in clumpy patches to the ground and it peels away as Lilith forces her leaden arms to move, pushing away from the ground that always seems like it wants to eat her.
A tremor of white pain travels from her breastbone to the hook of her floating ribs, and she groans as she glances down at blood-sticky rock. It is shiny, glassy like a dead black eye – and Lilith sees her sword lying in the manner of a crooked smile underneath her upraised body. The hilt is shaped like a fishhook, the blade concave near the hilt and pitching out into a broad convex near the tip.
There’s a chain of soft gold running from the hook of the handle to the blade, and it shines strangely in the wet reflective surface of the volcanic stone that runs up to the high walls of hell itself.
Lilith knows, without looking, that there is a very specifically-shaped bruise running from just underneath one of her breasts down the rungs of her ribs, terminating just above her hip. Others too, splashed across her jaw and the socket of her right eye. There is dried blood crusted in her hairline and on her lips, cuts beneath her clothes that have bled into the fabric.
The last thing she remembers is fighting, knee-deep in snow somewhere in the Himalayas. Red spotted in the drifts and an old oil lantern trying vainly to scoop the darkness up off the snow, throwing reflections onto white-capped stone. She was following a fresh trail of blood and gore up a switchback that couldn’t really be described as a path when a great shape came crashing out of the night.
She recalls being swept aside by a massive paw, or maybe a hand, and landing dazed in the snow. Rolling aside just in time to avoid a sharp-seeming downstroke. Might have been claws, or a blade, or a set of enormous teeth. Her lantern rolled away, and Lilith heard the ringing in her ears that announced death. She scrambled to her feet and saw where her light had been tossed away, where it came to rest by a shape lying limp in the snow, surrounded by a halo of blood.
Lilith didn’t need to roll the corpse over – didn’t have time, as snow swirled and a shape stalked her. There, with snow and ice muddling the feeling of stone beneath her feet, she felt powerless. She couldn’t reach out and rend the earth, couldn’t call fire up from the mantle of the planet. Too much interference, too much fear.
There was a crumpled polaroid in the back pocket of her jeans, showing a smiling woman in a puffy green jacket, pretending to blow on her hands for warmth, though she stood next to a bonfire and underneath a clear, starry sky.
There was no need to roll the corpse over because the jacket lay in pieces around the body, rent by claw or blade or teeth, and Lilith felt anger surge up inside her as she tore her sword out of its sheathe and turned in a wary circle, trying to pierce the blizzard with the tip.
But then she heard a flurry of movement behind her and something rammed into her back, tossing her forward and face-first into snow. A phantom voice in her head whispered through the wind as Lilith reached vainly, dizzily, for invisibility, for her god-given power over not being. Coming up, as usual, against the wall of her own scattered focus.
A voice in her head saying, shut the fuck up and fucking Travel, or so help me I’ll come back to life and murder you.
And so she Traveled. Reaching out to gather up the shadows into a soft blanket, into a blade she pressed willingly through her own body, carrying it away from the blood in the snow and the monster in the dark. And there was nothing and no one and nowhere to think of but home, wretched though it is.
Hades.
Lilith stands, dragging the sword with her so that it dangles with the tip almost touching the ground, resting the blade flush against the curve of her boot. It has a soft black glow, down here in such proximity to the waters where Lilith stood, stripped to the waist and running with cold sweat. Where she dipped the fresh-forged blade into the polluted waters of the Styx.
She’s wearing her black aviator jacket, sunglasses sticking out of the pocket, over a somewhat threadbare t-shirt with a weird, shadowy creature on the front. She keeps meaning to Google what it is, but a giant snake ate her phone last month.
And, anyway, there’s no one left to call.
As ever, a pall of ghoulish green light sits over the gateway to the underworld, seeping along the riverbank in both directions. It’s a little like dry ice, but this isn’t a stage or a theatre. It’s just where she lives.
Lilith frowns down at herself, at the spots where her jacket has frayed, where the black leather has cracked or been scraped away by claws, the chill sitting barely above her bones from weeks of sleeping rough up on the surface. The golden chain on her sword settles against her knuckles – a faint, weird warmth – and Lilith lets a small sigh escape from inside her mouth as the greenish mist rolls past her.
There’s something about the mist that feels animate, today. It almost seems to cup her cheek, to flow over her cheekbone like a cold thumb, taking a little heat out of the bruises. Though, there’s a pressure to it – almost a reprimand.
Lilith stares towards the gates and the looming canine shape that sits squarely inside, worrying the inside of her lip. Is it her imagination, the slightly-chiding care that runs through the green light, the cool river mist?
She doesn’t speak to her father – not more than a handful of times in her life. He didn’t save her mother from the bombs or her sister from starvation, and he tucked her away in a dreamless sleep until he had a use for her. So what does she owe him?
Nothing.
Certainly not conversation, or whatever paltry imitation of love he can scrimmage out of his rotten heart. Fuck you, she thinks. There’s no benefit in saying it aloud, but Lilith lifts her middle finger, pointing it towards the mammoth walls, toward Cerberus and the stupid, banal bureaucracy of death.
The ghost in her head chuckles, low, and Lilith feels the golden chain brush her fingers again though there is no wind here to move it.
A wave of dizziness wash over her – a wild urge to lift the hilt of the sword up to her mouth and kiss the chain, but all she does is stand there in the shadow of her father’s kingdom, aching down to the marrow of her bones.
Then, from behind, from down in the direction of the ferry, she hears the scrape of wood over stone. Here, on the parallel shore of the Styx where nothing moves or walks or breathes but Lilith.
She whirls, sweeping her sword around so that she stands – unsteadily – with her body held sidelong in a narrow target, blade parallel with her raised arm, tip pointed towards whatever foul thing has crawled up out of the river.
Then she freezes, blinks, feels all the moisture in her mouth turn coppery and sour, because it’s not a monster.
It’s a girl.
Shorter than Lilith, with a pair of dark eyes pooled above a grim little mouth. Lilith realises – with a sense of disquiet – that she is beautiful. There’s a dust of freckles sitting like an afterthought on her nose, her cheeks, drawing out the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her mouth is pulled tight, grimacing, but it hardly upsets the softness of her jaw.
She’s wearing a dark blue shirt over what looks like a thermal base layer. It’s cold down here, though it has never truly bothered Lilith. She’s built for it, or just used to it. Despite the extra protection, there is still a faint tremor sweeping through the girl as she stands, black rock glittering underneath her.
It’s easy to see why.
She is drenched in blood, leaning heavily on a spear made of bronze, decorated with tiny winged shapes. Lilith can’t make out what flying creature it is, but she makes a guess. There is, indeed, an owlishness to the girl as she stands, blinking through the gloom at Lilith, making no move to defend herself as blood spills out from where her palm is pressed into her stomach. Lilith can see the pink glisten of unearthed viscera beneath it, can see that her fingers are pressed inside to the knuckles.
A half-blood, then.
Lilith’s fingers tighten around the hilt of her sword. It’s Stygian iron – a substance that can only be forged in the waters of the Styx, capable of absorbing the essence of monsters, ripping them even out of Tartarus. Monsters and mortals and gods fear it, but the girl only blinks down the curve of the sword as Lilith holds it aloft.
Her voice, when it drifts out of her mouth, rolling into the mist, is clipped and precise and soft. All by itself it makes a crack in Lilith’s resolve.
‘You’re the daughter of Hades?’
It is, Lilith thinks, mostly a statement. In her bruises and her battered black clothes, with the life-eating pall of a Stygian sword in her hand, Lilith looks like the bastard child of death.
The stranger is a hazy shadow, cut to the quick by the perpetual drain of this place; the sewer of the Styx washing by with a sound like a hundred thousand muttering voices.
Blood patters softly onto the stone at her feet, but it scarcely has a chance to pool before the stone swallows it. The girl, hair half-unbound around her shoulders, strands falling down around her face to complicate it with shadows, stares at her own boots for an instant, wobbling. Lilith understands what she is feeling; it took weeks for the rock of this place to feel solid, to stop warbling underneath her with the threat of turning to liquid, to blood, to ink.
Lilith has dreamed of the bottom of hell, and this is not it. This is only the threshold.
‘Who’s asking?’ she growls, taking a careful half-step forward. It’s more of a shuffle, really – a habit born from fencing lessons held deep inside the walls of the Underworld, in a garden full of soft fruits and the promise of spring. The place she learned to fight.
The girl straightens, stiffening under Lilith’s scrutiny. There’s a sort of raw-boned intensity to her, like she’s holding herself very precisely in check. Her fingers, too, have tightened around the haft of her spear.
She’s shaking, blood now flowing down to drip from the tip of her elbow where it’s clamped tight against her body. Lilith wonders what it took for Charon to ferry a dying girl across the river.
The tip of her sword is only a foot from the girl’s throat as it bobs, as she raises her chin to expose the bumpy layers of cartilage sitting in a line; the very slight bulge above her windpipe.
There’s no point in asking who sent her. If she’s a half-blood, there’s only one place she could have crawled from.
Softly, again, the girl speaks. Backlit as she is by the green glow on the shore, she carries the countenance of a ghost. Lilith might mistake her for one, if she didn’t know better.
‘My name is Beatrice,’ she says, in a voice like cold water and warm milk, ‘I am a daughter of Athena.’
There’s blood on her lips, Lilith realises, as they pull into a grimace. They shiver as Beatrice pulls her fingers out of the slit in her stomach, holding them out in wry invitation.
It’s utterly bizarre, but Lilith finds herself lowering her sword, leaving it to sit against the leg of her jeans. Beatrice has proffered her right hand, so Lilith is forced to juggle the sword into her left so that she can reach out, tentative, to wrap her fingers into the sticky, blood-stained cup of Beatrice’s hand.
‘Lilith,’ she says. Somehow, it feels like an admission, like giving something away.
The daughter of Athena smiles. Pink-tinted saliva dribbles down her chin. It’s ghastly, but Lilith finds that she is somewhere on the opposite end of disgusted, wherever that might be.
There are, after all, no destinations along the river Styx but one. Death.
Beatrice squeezes her hand. She takes a ragged breath, her dark eyes heavy-lidded and hazy, boring into Lilith’s. ‘Pleasure,’ she says, a little giddily. ‘I thought I would have to go deeper into hell to find you.’
‘Well, here I am.’
A tightening around her hand, not quite a squeeze. ‘Here you are,’ Beatrice says. She lists forward, catches herself, ‘I’m here-‘
She coughs, and the redness of it floats weirdly in the mist. Beatrice stares, shakes her head like she’s trying to banish a ghost.
Her voice is very faint. ‘We need your help… daughter of Hades.’
Then the daughter of Athena, her skin like dark gold even in the bad light of the Underworld, falls forward. It happens slowly, at first, like she’s just taking a step, but then Lilith sees her knees buckle, watches the spear slip through her fingers.
And without thinking she steps forward, capturing Beatrice’s warm body in her arms.
...
Ten minutes later Lilith crouches next to a limp figure she has propped up against the pitted, high stone wall, feeling like a thief as she unbuttons Beatrice’s blue shirt and peels her black base-layer away from the slice in her lower abdomen.
Her sword is on the ground next to her, at a right angle to her body, the hilt in easy reach. Beatrice’s spear is propped up against the wall. It is, indeed, covered in tiny filigreed owls.
Beatrice does not stir as Lilith raises her hand, ignoring the unhappy shiver of the mist against her back as she draws on the power in her blood, summoning up a sliver of bone from a tiny vial of bone dust she keeps tucked inside her boot. It forms in the air, turning from powder to liquid to solid bone in the span of a moment, before settling down into Lilith’s red-painted palm.
It’s not ideal, but she can hardly wash her hands in the river. It’s full of plastic and rot and blood. Instead, she makes do with the little wadge of bandage and thread she keeps in the pocket of her jacket.
Beatrice continues to breathe as Lilith carefully threads her bone needle. There’s a voice in the back of her head spouting stupid facts about the history of needles and sutures, but Lilith hisses at it to shut up before dipping the sharp end of the bone through Beatrice’s flesh. The thread turns red as it passes in and out, but it’s proper surgical suture, so it also tugs the flesh back towards itself. It makes whole.
Distracted by her work, it takes Lilith too long to notice the change in Beatrice’s breathing. She finishes her row of stitches – they’re thick and lumpy and as elegant as she can make them, but there is no ringing in Lilith’s ears to ordain death, so it must be enough.
At a loss for any other implement, Lilith picks up her sword and carefully cuts the thread, leaving a little curl of it to sit against the taut muscle of Beatrice’s stomach. She has, of course, attempted not to notice the ripple of honed, hard muscle that runs the whole length of what necessity has forced Lilith to unearth; the evidence of a life spent fighting.
She has attempted to ignore it.
When Lilith looks up, sword resting on her knees where she’s crouched, balancing effortlessly on her heels, she finds that Beatrice’s eyes are open. Hazy with pain, but alert underneath it all.
A tentative smile flutters across her lips, ‘You saved my life.’
She dumps the sentence at Lilith’s feet like it means something.
Lilith shrugs, ‘I’m a freak, not a monster.’
The freckled skin on Beatrice’s cheeks wrinkles in tandem with her frown, ‘Wh-‘
‘You said you needed my help?’ Lilith interrupts before the question can come out and make everything awkward.
Beatrice’s stomach is still laid bare, covered in fingerprint marks where Lilith has touched her – in every single place Lilith has touched her.
Mercifully, the daughter of Athena lets her question fall away. Her bronze spear shines off of some strange reflection in the volcanic rock.
‘Yes,’ Beatrice says. There’s some depth to the word that Lilith doesn’t look down into, in the same way she doesn’t peer into the waters of the Styx as the ferry glides over it. Some mysteries are not fit for consumption.
‘Alright.’ Lilith nods, ignoring the way that the gold chain on her sword tightens against her hand, like a warm tongue, ‘Tell me what you need.’
#warrior nun#wn pjo au#sister beatrice#sister lilith#warrior nun fanfic#i'm reading these books again & now it's everyone's problem#gonna call this part 1#it'll eventually be avatrice & camilith i think but in the meantime have the usual homoerotic bs between bea and lil#ty for the prompt!#casper writes#i'll put this up on ao3 when it's not 2:30am
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До новых встреч, Гранит Фолз :)
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Here we goooo!
New long comic! This time a witch au, called bewitching star (short form bs au, cause it’s fun)
#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me belpholo#belpholo#bs au#part 1#my art
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Lion Guard Finale Praise + Rant
There is a lot I hate about The Lion Guard's final episode but the one thing that will always hold a special place in my heart is the return montage:
You can't tell in screenshots, but in the background, the LG chorus sings a reprise of the Departure Theme from the premiere episode, with this montage being a book-end to the goodbyes that the Guard said to their friends and families in that episode.
It's really sweet and powerful because it's a beautiful example of "Show, don't tell" (a rule which this show, particularly in Season 3, and the LK sequels in general are not the best at following). We see what the Lion Guard had left behind when they went on their journey to the Tree of Life, how much they had missed their home and how glad they are to be back and how that feeling was reciporicated by their friends and families.
Keep in mind that earlier that morning they were under the belief that Zira invaded the Pride Lands and had possibly killed the royal family and subjugated the Pride Lands' non-lion subjects if not giving them a same gruesome fate (since Kion knows that Zira is a lion supremacist, god-forbid what would happen if she ever got near Mtoto, Thurston, or Ajabu), and on the Pride Landers' end, the Lion Guard had been gone for such a long time with no one having any way of knowing they'd return or if they died. So this reunion was likely also a huge relief for everyone in the Pride Lands, especially Simba, Basi, and Timon and Pumbaa (who no doubt would've been scared shitless at the idea that their kid could be missing forever or dead and have no way to confirm or deny that possibility). It's just all around amazing to see. When watching the episode for the first time when it came out I thought something was wrong with my computer because despite there being 14 minutes left, I wholeheartedly thought the series was going to end there....
...which is why I'm very mad that it didn't and forever disappointed at the route they went with for the actual ending.
In the span of less than a full day since the Lion Guard returned from the Tree of Life, all of them instantly want to head back there on a whim after losing the Lion Guard contest, which would wind up in them completely uprooting their lives and leaving their home and families again for the sake of this one kingdom that we've only seen for seven to eight out of 74 episodes plus a TV movie! The reunion showed us that the Guard was strongly attached to their home and families, but now the ending forces us to ignore that to logistify the Guard willingly going to the Tree of Life without any on-screen goodbyes or send-offs. No scene of doubt, no goodbye songs, no parting ways between characters, nothing, it just jump cuts from "Hey, let's go back to the Tree of Life even though we've only been back here for a day" straight to them at the Tree of Life for Kion and Rani's wedding. Isn't the episode's title supposed to be "Return to the Pride Lands?" Yet the "return" plot stops mattering after the first 11 minutes.
The whole Guard leaving with Kion doesn't even make sense: Bunga has Timon and Pumbaa at Hakuna Matata Falls, Beshte has to co-lead the hippo pod with his father, Ono has his flock and possibly even Ona (you could argue that he would want to return to the Tree of Life because they healed him, but that's not the reason they went with - Also the poor dude lost his Mark of the Guard twice, the first being after he lost his eyesight to protect the Pride Lands from Scar, like, what the fuck?), Fuli had been the most admant about returning to the Pride Lands, and Anga showed no interest in staying at the Tree of Life and seemed perfectly ok in the Pride Lands.
Even back in the days where people were theorizing what would happen to the Lion Guard that caused them to be absent in TLK 2, I never saw reason for the whole Guard to leave if Kion ever left, and even then, I never expected any departure to be permanent because it would go against their whole life-style. It feels like they only had them leave like this for the sake of some "twist" that didn't need to be there. And even if they were going to go with this route, they could've had the Guard separate, with some staying and some going to at least make sense.
Much like Makini, Season 3 ignores crucial story elements of the main characters from the first two seasons to both justify their "plot-twist" by the end and to wrap up any “plot-holes” with the Lion King 2 and forces the audience to suspend an inappropriate amount of their disbelief. So while I like the reunion in the final episode and whilst my love for the show remains un-matched, knowing how it all ends and that (according to some writers) it was planned from the start to end like this makes me feel cheated in a way. One of the most disappointing endings I've seen from a show which I've been willing to follow from start to finish and this is coming from someone who's watched both Jake and the Never Land Pirates and Bunk'd.
#the lion guard#Kion#Bunga#Fuli#Beshte#Ono#Anga#The Lion King#Disney jr.#I'm back on my bs again ranting/gushing over the Lion Guard aren't I?#For years I've always questioned the Lion Guard's production especially in Season 3#Because with so many episodes in Seasons 1 and 2 there's so much that Season 3 retroactively goes against despite being intended as the end#I have a hard time believing that the pitch sold to executives was always “The diverse interspecies Lion Guard is upstaged by lions#...and their long journey home as well as their live-long dedication to the Pride Lands is a bust bc now they are all a part of a lion prid#... so that they can all witness a child marriage between Kion and Rani on our fucking children's show"#At least Bunk'd's “ending” had a sendoff moment between the departing characters despite the season not being worth a fuck#This is.... just awful#rani#lion guard night pride#Pride Lands#Pridelands#the lion guard season 3#the lion guard rani#the lion guard kion#the lion guard bunga#the lion guard fuli#the lion guard ono#the lion guard beshte#the lion guard anga#critical
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Yall I'm so sorry I do not like Peacemaker
#that show annoys me down#my hatred for it is not as bad as the cw verse#but the writing in that show legit pisses me off#and i hate the directon the dcu film verse whatever is going#like theres one gross ass line about a certain flop actor that you wont get without context#that whole style of writing is bad and terrible and i hate how so many comic adaptations have that humor#ur not funny#Please do not bring up comic adaptations around me unless its the reeveverse#not even the new superman movie im interested in#its so funny that i disagree with the snyder fanbase on most things EXCEPT that the new superman movie looks bad but ik its gonna get praise#and clog my tl for like weeks afterwards#this is the part where i would like be sorry about the rent but i love bitching and moanjing about how much i hate comic adaptations like#i hate them sooooo much#doom patrol was a breath of fresh air since it actually LIKED the material and engaged in it in a edgy yet sincere way that so many comics#but ALSO it was actuallly good and played wth the medium in a really cool way and was well written and fun and actual good gay rep#Is the batman the best most well written thing ever? NOPE! but it does adapt the comkc in a way i find interesting#titans was shit from a butt and i only watched it because the actors were so well casted. like even krypto was perfect#I never watchrd harley quinn and dont plan too but i feel like i might like that#you couldnt pay me to watch that kite man shit#snyderverse was trashhhh except the snyder cut#for some reason i just never watched wonder woman 1 but i watched 1984 and i wanted to kms#nobody is doing it worse than marvel. even the bad movies get praised by critics#pure formulaic bs#idk i am obviously the target audiences for that shit but i have zero desire to see superman or the upcoming comic books movies from dc or#marvel
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Certified florida moment.
#i hate it here <3#yeah man just keep pouring concrete on everything there will be no consequences just keep building yea just keep on doing that#hey @everyone did you know there are other places in the world#you can just go there. go there instead. stop moving here. do people not realize they are actively destroying this place by moving here#we do not need to cater to every boomer in 1 state#please. plesase. plseas. pls. plseas please plsea its. so .. crowded. please. drop dead already.#not going to post the full article (its not that long) but this shit was happening in secret#sometimes i wish gators were less chill. if they were like crocs at least some of the golfers would be taken as payment yknow.#if you want to cut down some of the rarest ecosystems you really do need to get deathrolled by a gator i dont make the rules#a large part of my hatred of tourists and transplants is because of things like this#they do not come here in good faith. they come here to see artificial bullshit which leads to building MORE artificial bs#or they come here for 'culture war' nonsense. importing the dumbest rich people as public service to the rest of the states.#the other part is that they are either rude or stupid almost every time#we do not need more golf courses. or malls. or water parks. or hotels. the only thing we need is affordable housing and public transport#but that will never happen because fuck you if you aren't a millionaire. thats how things work down here.#the craziest thing is- at least in the 2 (used to be 4) golf courses i pass by regularly. you rarely ever see a single person on them#they got rid of 2 of them because it was more profitable to build a shopping center on 1 and they are building a soccer stadium on the othe
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柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第二十七回 「宿縁の命」
#柄本佑#tasuku emoto#光る君へ#hikaru kimi e#1x27#made by me#fujiwara no michinaga#藤原道長#okay first of all finally someone called out michinaga's bs#that the waka thing was all about vanity#way to go sanesuke#the way his face glowed up but tried his best to keep it cool & act reluctant when haruaki suggested 1 emperor 2 empresses#oh my god michinaga just say you want it#only with the mahiro part that he's still somehow saburo😢#but idk I'm not sure about the way Oishi sensei -- I dont even know how to put it into words#I think it really is the tackiest way of connecting these two together#sometimes I watch this show and certain parts make me feel like that she lives in a like Y2K east asian idol drama time-capsule#I feel a little bad for nobutaka - not that I feel I get to judge mahiro for that#certain humor in this ep is so crazy and genji like emon misunderstood Tomoko#and complained that it's too much to teach Akiko to moan during sex with tenno. omg ijbol so hard🤣#anyway artistically I love a bi-color episode#Tasuku's getting so friggin' THIN in the past few episodes#he did michinaga justice but I hope he takes care of himself
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also i rewatched all of snw s1 to prep for s2 and i know i’ve complained about this before but it REALLY gets annoying for the show to completely go ham on spock’s love life when i’m not waiting a week between episodes… like i get they want to explore spock’s humanity and that’s cool! but why can’t that be expressed in the form of “erica recruits spock to help her with a prank” or “la’an tries to reach out to spock now that she’s started therapy because they have such similar trauma and we get an uncomfortable but genuine friendship” or “number one and spock hang out like in that short trek.” why does it have to be “women flirts with spock” EVERY TIME 😩 like i’m still excited for s2 cause i do love most of the show but it is such a shame that they just cannot let this go especially because ethan peck is a PHENOMENONAL spock who cares about and respects the character so so deeply and like 75% of the material they give him is THIS bs :(
#especially bc they are apparently doing smth with la’an and jim in s2 as well……………UGGHHHHHHHHHHHH#also i know that captain angel is nonbinary but the actress is a woman and the character is still very femme. like i don’t think#they would’ve gotten all those flirty lines w spock if they had been more masc#i want s2 to be good SO BAD and i think it largely will be i’m just. not excited for this part#disco spock when will you return to me. when will michael get her mention#f: star trek#trek: shows#trek: snw#ch: spock#t.txt#also also i know i’ve said before that like it’s fine cause we know how spock ends up and its not like this#and i still do desperately hope we see that arc but 1) good god if it’s portrayed as negative growth i’m gonna lose it and 2)#all this bs is still excessive and annoying rn in such large quantities#oh and also 3) for all the personality and charisma they gave chapel her whole arc is still spockcentric which 🙃
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