no but how much you wanna bet when jughead signed up for the drag race he had a different car, and it was all set to go, and then the ghostbuster gang or whatever they’re called destroyed the car thinking it’ll put the win in the bag but they didn’t know about the secret weapon named betty ass cooper
homegirl shows up right as jug and toni are surveying the damage and toni’s like well there’s one other car the serpents got but it’s shit and won’t start and then she pulls the tarp off a junky old black camaro that hasn’t seen the sun in a decade, dust littering the air
and betty didn’t want to get involved but they came after jughead and now it’s-cracks-knuckles-personal and so she just stares down the barrel of that old engine and goes, “oh, it’ll drive”
A friendly reminder to keep an eye on your health during the summer, be it mental or physical! No matter how busy you may be, you have to make time to keep an eye on yourself and prevent any possible issues.
I might be one of the only people in the Kubo fandom who firmly believes that Sariatu never dressed like her sisters, but rather that before her betrayal, they dressed like her. Long flowing robes, layers and layers, lots of silk that spun around them as they flew. Slightly more subdued colors, of course, but still all the splendor expected of the children of the Moon. I like the idea of all three of them, lovely and cold in their ridiculous robes and flat white masks, looking more like actors then fighters until they had you at swordpoint.
Plus, it means the Sisters’ fashion choices for the last twelve years are essentially an angry proto-goth rejection of everything they once admired about her, the grace and softness and deadly beauty. Their anger and mourning might be subtle, but it’s there all the same, and just like all teenagers they’re communicating it through dark clothing and lots of rarely repressed rage. 99/1 they’re wearing black eyeliner under those masks too.
words: 4.8k summary: You can learn a lot of things about someone during a
thunderstorm. Sometimes even more than you bargained for. (A post-Jackady
a/n: this is dedicated to @gabzilla-z for inspiring me to write this silly thing and talking through the whole story, to @matchaball for listening to me geek out over plot details, and @mylady-fangirling for helping me navigate my way through French expressions of surprise! ❤️❤️❤️
When Adrien Agreste learns that Ladybug is none other than
Marinette Dupain-Cheng, he feels like he’s been struck by a bolt of
lightning—electrified, illuminated, and shocked to the core.
But he doesn’t know that yet.
All he knows is that in the two days that have passed since
Ladybug came to the Agreste Mansion to help him save his father from being
attacked by Jackady, he’s been replaying the events of the day in his mind over
and over again, especially when he’s alone in his room in the evening.
The memories flash into his mind when he least expects them,
distracting him from his surroundings completely. So when it happens again on
this particular evening, he almost doesn’t even notice that Ladybug is standing
on his window ledge, grinning and knocking on the glass.
Luckily, her knocks are loud enough to distract Adrien from
his reverie, and he practically runs to the window to help her inside once he
realizes that his lady is actually here in the flesh and not just in his
“Ladybug! It’s—it’s so nice to see you! What are you doing
He hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.
“Salut, Adrien! I,
um, just wanted to check up on you, to make sure that you and Monsieur Agreste
are doing fine. Just a nightly check-in, since it’s been a few days! You know,
hero duty and all. It’s what we do,” says Ladybug in a torrent of words.
She hopes she doesn’t sound as nervous as she feels.
616 tony is jUST such high level character porn jesus christ because like
“yes i am selfless and driven enough to wield the infinity gauntlet without letting its power consume me but also y'all don’t need to know i’m not gonna wish the gems out of existence ok that’d be stupid”
“i am totally the most qualified person to carry the SRA database and that may seem arrogant but on the bright side i do it because if shit goes south then i have a plan to DELETE MY OWN MIND”
“people call me self-important DID YOU KNOW THAT LITERALLY EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT IN SOME LEVEL maybe i am self-important i am totally self-important THIS THING THAT HAPPENED BEFORE I WAS BORN IS ALSO MY FAULT”
“‘Eras, pus vey mon benastruc,’” said Prouvaire, tapping his pen against his fingers. “It doesn’t have to rhyme – ”
“Ah bon, of course it’s got to rhyme, it’s poetry,” Grantaire snapped. “Poets rhyme things! – everything, in fact. They make life rhyme with death, reason with folly, light with dark. Such parallel patterns continue hand in hand with metaphor and simile; every poet is like the next, and that is to say every poet is an empty-headed fool worth little more than the coat he wears, which has worn ragged at the elbows.”
Prouvaire gestured at the paper. “The words that end each line then end the following stanze,” he explained. “Here, lumière can’t just rhyme, it’s got to stay as the – ”
“ – end, yes, always an end,” said Grantaire. “That’s another thing about poets – they’re always blathering on about endings.”
“Well,” said Prouvaire, setting down his pen. “You won’t have to worry about an ending, my friend, if we never begin.”