beyond great

I really like puns and I want more bros hangin’ out being bros ya know.

Also, yes, my current Pandora playlist is actually named “grab some toast.” And I lazy colored this from a scanned sketchbook page because I didn’t feel like redoing the whole thing digitally, fight me.

I kind of suppose this could be considered a companion to the shitty comic in this sketch dump, but also not really. Just Adrien punning around.

Let me know if you can’t read my handwriting.

Artwork ©: alazic02

Do not repost.

A guide to being an apathetic Byronic aristocrat vampire in the 21st century
  • If the sun is up return to bed and wait until nighttime. There are not enough hours in the night to spend them sleeping. Once it is dark you can be all Dante Rossetti about it and stroll about some darkened woodland or else lay amongst Chinese patterned pillows in the nude reading Marcel Proust. 
  • In fact do a great many things naked. Or if you insist do them naked under a silk robe which trails after you as you stalk the halls of your estate.
  • And since everyone is fated to die anyway smoke cigarettes while you can. Be blasé about death in general. Or lament it constantly – incessantly – until all who know you associate it with your presence. That is what being a Romantic is all about.
  • And in the spirit of Byron take such bad care of yourself – by eating badly and drinking copiously – that you might at any moment pass into that lamented great beyond. The best ways to die are in a battle or in a Revolution as well as from sloth – simply laying about wasting away transfixed by a beautiful painting or the memory of a lost lover – or finally simply succumbing to an illness procured from exposure to the harsh elements of nature. The last is the most probable since you will often find yourself standing on mountaintops above mist-laden seascapes shouting Nietzschean quotes into the frosty air and heralding your own impending doom in the process.
  • Read many books. Watch Orlando by Sally Potter for immortal style tips.
  • Become a sensual creature (as opposed to a sexually satisfied one) so that you may either conquer a harmen of lovers wherein you can loose yourself for hours on end in a kind of Delta of Venus scenario or else live as an Dionysian hermit finding solace entirely in literature, flowers and moonlight.
  • Be not strictly woman or man but rather an amalgamation of femininity and masculinity. Embrace bisexuality. 
  • Keep strange pets. Anything besides a dog or cat or gerbil. Or if you must have a dog then choose a Borzoi or Wolf Hound. And if you must procure a cat then name it Lassitude or Nothing as Jean Paul Sartre did. Raise peacocks and keep a menagerie of exotic fauna and flora in an otherwise overgrown rose garden.  
  • Half of what you say ought to be a quote by John Milton, Dante Alighieri, William Shakespeare or Oscar Wilde. Either that or nothing. If you are not reciting – either the work of others or your own – then be quiet. Observe and consider, but rarely speak.
  • Drink red wine. And white wine. And champagne. Do not however drink vodka unless you find yourself in the Russian Winter Palace filial roaming pale and crazy-eyed down halls with a fur coat whipping behind you and a novel by Tolstoy in your pocket. 
  • Life is a feast. Eat oysters for breakfast and decorate your dinner table – and the food itself – with flowers. Hannibal is the go to cooking program for culinary flair.
  • In fact Hannibal ought to be the only tv show you watch besides Penny Dreadful. 
  • Wear chokers. All your jewelry ought to be heirlooms. 
  • Keep a much younger lover – if you are a woman – or a much older one – if you are a man – and have them rip the choker from your pale neck as you fall together in a passionate throw onto a 17th century ottoman.
  • Dress in shrouds of velvet and silk. 
  • Stay out of the sun.
  • A moushe – a painted-on beauty mark – is entirely appropriate, as is a Jacobin ruff.
  • From now on sex shall be referred to as Making Cattleya.
  • Appropriate venues for socializing are cafés which do not play music or serve cappuccinos, theaters built before 1960 and opera houses not built after 1930. Jazz clubs which refrain from fusion or acid. Libraries and old cinemas in general. Family estates and parental mansions, abandoned houses in the country side, churches and cemeteries, woodland openings and castle lawns, museums and – of course – small apartments where you can sit on the floor smoke cigarettes and discuss the collective sense of ennui you share with your friends.
  • Inappropriate venues are shopping malls, franchise coffee shops and anywhere where reading a novel or smoking might seem out of place. In fact stay clear of any place built after 1980. Avoid food courts, gyms, sports or hotel bars and clubs with more than one dance floor as the plague.
  • Refer to your circle of friends as your Family. Be religiously devote and romantically involved with them. When it comes to your actually family a cool somewhat distanced relationship is the most appropriate. Or if so inclined consider a more obsessive cloistering constellation that will inevitably lead to rumors of past inbreeding – the French aristocratic kind – and scandal. Refer to your parents by their first name or not at all and thus have them remain an elusive periphery to your life. 
  • Instead declare Richard Wagner as your emergency contact.
  • Descend stairwells slowly.
  • Express yourself through Greek axioms and lyrical poetry or lingering secretive stares. Consider perfume as a means of communication. 
  • Remember that the only respectable means of transport are the Oriental Express, steamships across the Atlantic or long boats along the Nile. You may also travel by foot if you do so in a languid fashion. As far as tourism goes the primary vehicle of experience ought to be stargazing and kissing. 
  • Consider yourself eternal
  • And eternity meaningless. 

When someone calls a member ugly/untalented/unimportant reaction moodboard

Every meme I make is so passive aggressive I’m doing backflips

(If you save like or reblog, credit if you use)

Credit to @bts-reactions-active for original photos!!!! They work really hard finding pictures for their blog so full credit to them for the original reaction photos, and please check out their blog, it’s great!


Photos from when I went with some friends to the Hokusai exhibition at The British Museum! Seeing a print of The Great Wave in person was nice but really, I fell in love with his brushwork and ‘manga’. My favourite from the exhibition was a portrait of Konohanasakuya-hime from 1834. I bought a book so I can examine and maybe copy some of his sketches for fun. We also went for udon at my favourite noodle bar and coffee at my favourite coffee place, I am so spoiled + grateful for having such lovely friends :º)


filed under tropes that utterly wreck me: smelling each other’s clothes

in which kageyama accidentally puts on hinata’s shirt. a tiny scene from @bigspoonnoya‘s fic obviously, which you should treat yourself to if you are into really well-written, sexy fics with a ton of emotional depth. :’D

also, on the subject of steve’s superhuman status…

i felt like this movie was brutally heavy-handed about showing us just how much steve’s body can take. like, we get a hint of it in first avenger but even steve isn’t sure by the end of the movie the entire scope of what his body can do–what can be done to it. then in the avengers, we get a little more…ideas about his endurance, his agility, his combat skill–but they’re just glimpses, and really, nothing earth-shattering is discovered.

and then this fucking movie comes along, and all of a sudden, the audience is seeing in visceral constant detail just how super this soldier has become.

steve fights like lightning in a bottle–he’s a tremendous force in a contained, controlled package. we see his skill, but more than that, we see how his skill is the vehicle for his power. how many times do we get it reiterated that this dude is magnificent? the very first scene of the movie is all about how he’s running THIRTEEN MILES in 30 minutes like it’s nbd. and then rumlow pointing out steve’s jump sans parachute and how well he was single handedly taking on the ship’s crew before rumlow landed. and then his fight with batroc, how it’s very specifically meant to show that even without the shield, steve is more than capable. that he can withstand things and do things other human beings can’t. that HE and HIS FISTS AND FEET AND MASSIVE MUSCLES AND CORE STABILITY can and will fuck you up. the entire first half of the film is all about steve being a force to be reckoned with, not just as a person but as a body, as a physical presence. 

and as the battles escalate, so too do the stresses on steve’s body. every new thing was like a dare. a step further. a question–how much can this guy withstand?

steve, leaping through a window into ANOTHER BUILDING ENTIRELY, crashing through WALLS like they’re nothing, running at top speed and withstanding the force of throwing the shield and being thrown the shield, stopping a hairsbreadth from the edge of the roof.

steve, getting ambushed in an elevator, several burly and skilled men and their assorted weapons against him. this scene is SO important–those little electricity things that rumlow zapped steve with at length and several times? remember how a tiny little zap was enough to knock out that french mercenary? yeah, well, it barely pHASED steve even after it’s stuck to his gut for like 30 agonizing seconds, repeatedly. that whole scene is an exercise in showing the audience that steve literally has the strength of multiple men, maybe even more. (and he knows it, too. it’s why his fairness, the fact that he gives those goons the OPTION TO GET OFF THE ELEVATOR, is so much more remarkable than it otherwise would be. because he knows what his body is capable of now. and it’s a fucking lot.) 

oh and then he leaps out of the elevator and falls several thousand feet at full speed and not only lives but barely staggers after a couple minutes of shaking it off and then he leaps onto a moving jet and disables it before somersaulting to the ground? this isnt just innate confidence, it’s a lack of fear borne from the knowledge that his body can take it.

like sitwell said–“are you kidding me?” it’s pretty significant that in a world of superheros and mutants and gods, sitwell is shocked by a SUPERSOLDIER and what his body can do. as well sitwell should be, tbh.

bc MULTIPLE TIMES steve uses his own body as a buffer between the shield and people he’s protecting–two times with nat and a potentially catastrophic and close range explosion and once FALLING OUT OF A FUCKING SPEEDING VEHICLE. he knows the shield will provide the first line of defense, but he also knows his body is capable of creating another. his body becomes a shield, too. a weapon and a tool.

and it’s worth noting that he’s posed as superhuman by acting as a mirror to another superhuman. when he’s fighting bucky on the bridge, he matches bucky move for move–i still cant decide whether that fight is meant to drive hom how powerful bucky is or steve, tbh. like, on one hand, we already KNOW how strong steve is, so the fact that bucky is fighting him shows the audience this isnt just an assassin–he’s souped up more than the average human. but on the other hand, we see early on how fast and powerful bucky is, and when we see his fist hit the shield we get a sense of his incredible strength even more, and that just shows us AGAIN how very strong steve must be to keep up with him and fight him like an equal.

anyway, the next round of death defying comes with the helicarrier business. and a lot of his awesome comes from how well he moves and how tactical he is, but there are elements–when he leaps into the open air and freefalls waiting for sam to catch him, when he uses his upper body strength to fucking climb up the outside of the helicarrier after being thrown off the side–that you’re reminded again that beyond him being a great soldier, he’s also got a body that is a conduit for all that knowledge, all that skill. and that body is a weapon unto itself.

guys. guys, he’s shot MULTIPLE TIMES and STABBED and he just wrestled a super assassin into submission and he STILL makes it up to change the blade for the helicarrier. and when the helicarrier is crashing, he stILL has enough strength to move a steel beam off bucky. and then he SITS THERE AND GETS PUNCHED REPEATEDLY IN THE FACE BY A METAL HAND. this is the first time we really see steve rogers bleed in this movie. the first time we really see how exhausted and worn down he must be. THE FIRST TIME in TWO HOURS–after multiple battles and running away and fatigue and villains.

but even as he bleeds, he lives. he’s alive. conscious. TALKING. as a viewer, at this point, i was just like–how much can steve take??? how much MORE??? and it seemed that steve would keep answering me with “i could do this all day!”

except then he falls into the potomac. but EVEN THEN we don’t see him get mouth to mouth. we see bucky drag him to shore and leave and steve’s breathing on his own. his lungs are EXPELLING THE WATER IN A THIN STREAM OUT OF HIS MOUTH. steve is literally defying everything i know about drowning and breathing in this scene. his body :( so magic :(

given all this, the fact that one of the last scenes of the movie was steve in a hospital…it feels right. it feels like we finally get to see steve slow the hell down and take CARE of himself. it feels like there was a natural culmination to all that getting beat up and beating other people up, and it’s there in that hospital bed, waking up with his wounds not yet healed, showing that as superhuman as he is, even he has some limits.

but those limits are pretty well fucking beyond most powered humans, imo. and that’s another reason i love steve rogers.

McCoy knowing Julian Bashir. 

McCoy constantly seeing Julian at medical conferences because he still attends them. 

McCoy always talking to Julian because the boy is bright for an idiot who thinks frontier medicine is anything but the worst damn thing anyone could ever have the utmost privilege to engage in and he’s so proud of this kid.

McCoy learning of Julian’s status and telling him it ain’t natural that Starfleet would consider punishing a man simply because of something he had no choice in since he’s met Khan twice and the damn fool wasn’t anything to write home about, augment or not. Julian though, he’s a good kid.

McCoy also pointing out that Julian can’t be that augmented if he’s dumb enough to have a crush on a Cardassian spy and still too cowardly to do anything about it.

Leonard Horatio McCoy just being a salty mentor/father figure to Julian Subatoi Bashir.