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yuhi-san · 3 months

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I’ve seen a few posts pointing out how stampede vash lacks the anger that 98 and especially trimax vash has. Which is true.

And it is important. Because vash isn’t the too morally strong or good or kind to be angry or whatever. Vash has a lot of rage about a lot of things. he chooses to be kind despite it rather than not being angry at all.

His sheer determination to not give into anger and choosing kindness over and over again is very important to who he is.

(personally I think that while tristamp vash went through a lot already too, he simply has not quite reached that point)

What I haven’t really seen are post pointing out that stampede vash, unlike 98 and trimax vash, does not cry.

Vash cries a lot. Some of it is for the comedy and because he is dramatic like that and also he isn’t above trying to get pity that way (with little success lol).

But he also cries a lot just… because. I don’t know how to explain it.

Like vash has no shame or inhibition to cry when that’s what he feels. Not gonna lie, I know trimax mostly from spoilers so far (shame on me) but especially in 98 vash cries very freely. He cries when he thinks he will have to watch that ex-mob boss or whatever being shot. Cries after killing, cries after monev kills all these people and he wants to shot him but wont. And so so many more.

Like that time he just suddenly drops his donuts and cries in the middle of the street.

Vash is friendly and sociable on a surface level but he has cut himself off from so much. Keeps so many things on the inside. Crying seems the one thing he doesn’t hold back on. Maybe his only genuine outlet for the pain.

Vash hides his scars, his pain and much more but he never hides his tears.

Vash, in 98 even says ‘is there something wrong with that?’ when the kids note that he is crying despite being an adult.

In contrast to that, stampede vash never really cries. He even states that he doesn’t deserve to.

We see him shed tears just once, at the very end when it becomes clear to him that he can’t save nai and that his brother and him have grown so far apart that he barely recognizes him anymore. He sheds silent tears for nai, for them, at what he certainly believed to be the very end.

Stampede vash is not only a lot more timid than his counterpart but seems overall more repressed and and emotionally dulled/exhausted

#this reminds me that trimax and 98 vash as children would just follow knives around for a looong time with no agency of his own #vash cryinf after dropping the donuts kills me every time #i dont know how to say it but how vashs crying is handles compared to many other protags hits different #it feels more like seeing vash's pain and distress #and less like a visual reminder to the audience that this is a tragic situation #am i making sense?#maybe i am also just a little biased #also adding to this johnny young bosh was so good in that dub #none of the words vor abgestumpft seem quite right hmm #trigun #trimax #tristamp #vash the stampede #trigun 98 #he also tries crocodil tears on meryl but she shot that down when he was barely a sniffle in so there is that lol

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tadpal · 3 days

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what annoys me the most about taylor swift is that it appears that she and her fans have no curiosity or respect for the genre she works in

#like its pop but likeITS POP MUSIC!!! there are innovations and interesting twists happenign ALL AROUND HER #and she has the money and time and collaborators to really DO SOMETHING WITH THE GENRE #but she doesnt even reallt appear to enjoy it. every time she has to describe her own work she shies away from POP which is what it is #what ALL OF IT HAS BEEN #like explore the genre!! its influences!! where its come from and where its going!! what your peers are doing with it and what it says!!#its an interesting place to be!! you could do so much!!!#but NO. no curiosity for it. where is the love? or passion or drive?#and she consistently tears down other people working in the field. mostly women of colour #like the olivia thing and the way her fans talk about beyonce and rihanna #they pit her against arianna and drag mjs name around and throw in random comparisons and its like??? dont you guys LIKE POP MUSIC #DO YOU GUYS LIKE THIS GENRE EITHER.? DO YOU LISTEN TO OTHER PEOPLE?#do you understand that taylor swift having peers is a good thing. that she could foster relationships and learn and grow alongside them #that they could be her biggest influences and critiques and thats how healthy art spaces thrive. but NO SHE MUST WIN AT POP MUSIC #thats not the aim!!! or it shouldnt be!!! god!!!!!!!!!doesnt it tire you? dont you want to listen to someone who takes pride in their craft?#anti taylor swift #<-for blocklists if you hate hearing negativity about her ig

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an-established-butt-dent · 4 months

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“Solas?“

“Yes, Vhenan."

“What are you drawing?“

He still has his eyes on the piece of parchment in front of him, but slows down the repetetive movements of his hand tracing the shapes on paper, as if that might offer him more time to find his answer. "Oh, just some practice. It helps me sort my thoughts," he says with the casual air of somebody trying to evade a question.

“Can I see, then?“

He glances up briefly and notices she has stopped reading her book on the early history of Neromanian magic. She has one elbow propped up on the table and rests her chin on her hand. She is looking at him expectantly, her book clearly forgotten.

He pauses the scratchy movements of his pencil and says rather hesitantly.

"It's not finished."

She leans forward a bit more, trying to catch a glimpse at his paper. He subtly angles it away from her. She might have barely noticed, had she not noted his newfound secrecy regarding his recent drawings. She has become increasingly curious over the past few weeks, and his forced casual demeanor after her question only fills her with more anticipation.

It makes her think of the first time he showed her his artwork. …

The first time she had walked into the rotunda in Skyhold and found Solas high up on the scaffolding with a paint brush in his hands and a concentrated look on his face, she was surprised to learn of his motivation.

"History needs to be documented," he had said when she asked him what he was working on.

After climbing down the scaffolding and taking a step back to admire the process of his work, he continued, "Not by the words of diplomats, but through the eyes of those skilled in artistry. Words will be forgotten, but images? Those will hold significance across time."

She had been moved then. By the bold lines in the fresco and the fierce look in his eyes as he regarded her as he spoke. Like she was someone worthy of admiration. Like he truly saw her. It reminded her of his words before their first kiss.

'You change everything.' He had said.

She didn't really believe him then. She didn't want to be put on a pedestal, far removed from the world and the simple and nomadic lifestyle of her clan that she was accustomed to. She missed roaming mountains and hills, not fighting blighted Templars and navigating treacherous games of power with nobles. That life had seemed like such a long time ago, even though it had barely been a year.

But perhaps she didn't need to suffer though all of this alone. She had her friends. Dorian with his jokes. Varric with his stories. Cassandra with her quiet support and camaderie. Iron Bull helping her with her fighting stances and teaching her new drinking games with Cullen. Even Cole, though he was still figuring out what the word friend even meant. She would help him with that, she had decided then. Friends; they made the aching pull of homesickness more bearable.

But Solas.

Who was he to her? She could call him her friend the supposed. She had the feeling they were becoming closer and yet there was an undeniable distance. Always leaving space for interpretation and mystery while never backing away from any of her questions. So much knowledge he shared, and still she had the feeling she barely knew him at all. He had slowly and unknowingly developed a talent for surprising her with new insights and he did so later again that same evening.

The next hour passed quickly while they were still talking about art and the different depictions of elven lore. He had stared at her intently for a moment, considering her.

"I want to show you something." he had said.

She never passed up an opportunity to learn more so she had indulged him, following him to a plain-looking crate to the side of the room. He removed the protective wards with a wave of his hand. He then uncovered some, by the looks of it, handbound books. He observed them one by one carefully, with a nod of acceptance when he seemingly found what he was looking for and handed her one of the books.

As she opened the first few pages she discovered they were sketchbooks filled with rough outlines in preparation for the next installment of the mural.

Excitedly he pointed to notes in the margin and spoke of where he learned the techniques for collecting and grinding his own pigments. There was a red ocre in the Western Approach that he had recently discovered on one of their missions which was apparently incredibly well suited for his purpose. At her encouragement he had shown her more of of his other drawings too. First of symbolism and color studies, but then more personal ones: of the views of the mountains from Skyhold, running Halla, drying herbs and even of some of the members of the inquisition she recognized.

In turn she told him about how she used to carve wood, especially when winters were rough and her clan was stuck in the same place for long waiting out the biting cold and punishing snow. To keep her fingers from freezing and her mind from wandering to dark places, she had started to carve.

"I haven't had the time since, well you know, this whole mess." she waved the fingers of her marked hand which flashed a sliver of green. Solas had looked thoughtful after her comment, almost like there was a tinge of regret behind his eyes.

The conversation steered in a different direction afterwards, like the seriousness of their predicament weighted more heavily on their shoulders than before. The mysterious books disappeared back into the chest and not long after she had excused herself and called it a night. Somehow she couldn't shake the feeling she had overstepped.

A few days later she returned from a short scouting mission. She climbed the steps to her sleeping quarters, exhausted. She hardly noticed there was an odd-shaped package leaning against her bedroom door until she almost stumbled over it. Her tiredness trading itself for curiosity, she moved to pick it up.

There was no note attached but once she unwrapped the bundle she discovered a beautiful and distinctive elven carving knife and a solid piece of oak wood.

She couldn't help the warm feeling that spread though her body, feeling the comforting weight of the wood and the cool metal of the knife in her hands.

….

She shakes her head as she's brought back to the present. That same rotunda they have since spend so much of their time together. Researching, reading and talking. There had been barely an evening where she didn't end up in the rotunda with Solas. At least when she wasn't away from Skyhold, trying to save the world on missions throughout Thedas.

She looks at Solas from her spot at the table with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

It takes a lot of effort to hide her smile.

Whith an amused tilt to the corner of her lips she says, "You know, Dorian told me he found some sketchbooks laying around, depicting a rather familiar elf. Anything you would know about that?"

Is he… Is he blushing?

"Um, Well you see." he cleares his throat trying to school his expression. "Those were private… And hidden for a reason."

She can't contain a smile. Solas flustered, that's a rare sight.

"You've seen them?" he askes quietly. She notices he has started fumbling with the edges of the paper. She didn't believe his ears could turn a brighter shade of pink.

"Maybe," she says while averting her eyes to the ceiling. She glances back to him out of the corner of her eyes.

Solas looks at her like she has grown an extra pair of ears.

She leans back in her chair and stretches out her legs comfortably under the table. Knowing she has him she doesn't want to push more and decides to spare him some of her teasing. She turns to look at him and softens her expression.

"I rather liked them."

Knowing that is probably not enough to explain why she had looked at his private belongings without permission and seeing the dumbfounded expression on his face slowly making space for embarrassment she decides to tell the whole story.

"I know shouldn't have overstepped, but Dorian said he had something urgent to discuss and before I was even halfway up the stairs he assaulted me with flying books, shouting about discovering my secret admirer. Either I would have stumbled to death or caught them. And, well… Once I started looking I couldn't look away… " she trails off with a slight tinge of shame in her voice.

"You liked them?“

She lookes at him, surprised by the hopefulness in his voice.

A wave of understanding washes over her.

He hid the drawings from her, not because he didn't want her to see them but because he was afraid of her rejection. Even though they had spent the last few months becoming more and more tangled up with each other, stealing fleeting glances and sometimes passionate kisses, they still hadn't really taken a moment to talk about what there was between them.

When she saw the drawings he made of her she had finally understood his interest in her was genuine and went beyond anything resembling a casual dalliance - something she can now confess to have been rather afraid of, because she had developed deeper feelings for him from the moment he started sharing detailed stories dreamt in the fade and his perspective on magic intertwined with life. And then there had been that first kiss… Wel let's just say she's in way too deep to turn back now.

And for all the effort he put into keeping emotional distance between them, he had apparently failed from the moment he had started putting her likeless on paper. For she could see the passion and emotion in the lines, soft shadows and hidden meanings. It made them stand out from all the other drawings she had seen by his hand.

What he couldn't yet put into words, he had found a different way of showing.

"Yes I-" suddenly feeling unsure she pauses for a moment and crosses her arms looking for the right words. "The drawings, they reminded me of who I could be." She takes a deep breath finds her courage and continues. "Someone who people will tell stories about. Not stories about Divine intervention, but of an elven woman's fight for justice. For a kinder world. Somehow I never really managed to see myself that way when I look in the mirror. But those drawings… I guess it's easier to understand who I've become by seeing myself through your eyes. To see the change I'm part of, but most of all to remind myself of where I came from."

She had uncrossed her arms and angled her body towards him over the table. A determined expression rests on her face. He hadn't taken his eyes of her from the moment she started talking.

He looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, considering his reply.

"Very well" he says while some of the tension visibly drains away from his body. She raises her eyebrows in question. "Then it's only time you started showing me your carvings in return. Some good blocks of wood have gone missing. I overheard Blackwall complaining about recently." He shares the accusations with a bemused smile on his lips.

Now it was her turn to blush.

"I was planning on showing you, but first I wanted to practice… " she trailed off her sentence, knowing she doesn't actually have a valid excuse for hiding it from him. And it was not like she hadn't backed him into a corner first.

Feeling relieved he wasn't pulling away at her recent discovery she changes her mind with newfound courage and stands up abruptly while extending her hand in invitation. The purpose of their late night reading session forgotten.

"You're right. And I'm willing to offer you a tour of my recent carving exploits, but only if you can refrain from commenting over the woodchips carpeting the floor." He starts to move as if to get up but she makes him pause as she isn't done yet. "But in turn I will pose for your next drawing." Solas looks at her confused for a moment, as if considering her question.

She pauzes for a moment and adds without hesitation.

"Naked."

"What?"

"That's right."

From a balcony upstairs they could hear some muffled movement followed by a familiar voice echoing down "You know Solas, if you're looking for nude models you only need to ask!"

"Dorian!" they say in unison, horrified.

Solas quickly tucks the sketches under his arm and stands up to grasp her hand, surprising her by pulling her close so fast she has to steady herself with her other hand landing on his chest.

Only a breath away from her ear he says softly so only she can hear.

"It seems like you found yourself a deal, ma Vhenan."

She squeezes his hand in response and when she looks at him there isn't a hint of his previous embarrassment. Instead there is a look of hunger and challenge in his eyes. It's so easy then, to lean over and kiss him, her lips a promise and Dorian's earlier interuption temporarily forgotten. Before she can get lost in the soft press of his lips she pulls back and feels a delighted thrill in the way he slightly chases them as she takes a step back. With a teasing smile on her lips she tugs on his hand bringing him back to reality and encouraging him to follow. As they make their way quietly towards the door she throws a judgemental look over her shoulder towards where she imagines Dorian to be hiding.

She is just able to make out a muffled conversation on the first floor "… These lovesick fools seem to keep forgetting this is a public space, if they don't want an audience they should find a room!"

Not sure if she should be terribly embarrassed or slightly thankful for Dorians intervention she doesn't manage to hide her smile.

"Let's get out of here then." she says as they start to make their way through Skyhold.

He squeezes her hand.

"Gladly."

#solavellan #solavellan hell #solas x female lavellan #solavellen hell #solavellen fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #No one can convince me otherwise that this scene hasnt happened #bioware robbed us from this being a real cutscene in the game #I mean dont you just love the idea of Solas sharing his passion for art and history with lavellan?#and all this time at skyhold #for sure she has run into him a few times covered in paint #and i just love the headcannon that solas ans lavellan forget they have an audiance of Leliana #Dorian and Fiona sharing popcorn and betting on who will make the first move #and you just know the frustration Dorian has felt #seeing the fools in love while they barely make a move at each other aside from fleeting glances #he had to get involved somehow #imagine dorian spending weeks on tearing down the magical wards on that chest #just to findout it filled with portraits of lavellan #LOL #dragon age inquisition fanfic #the dread egg #solas #solasmance #inquisitor lavellan #writing and artwork by me #acrylic ink and finelines on bamboo paper

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franklespine · 4 months

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Lucifer telling Sam "you've gone soft" in 11.10 is soooooooooooooooo...

Yes it's all a manipulation tactic, but Lucifer walking Sam through his memories, things that seem a lifetime ago, saying this is how you were before: bold and decisive - this is the Sam that saved the world, this isn't you anymore - when Lucifer is the reason why Sam is the way he is now. Insane. There are rare moments of gold in supernatural and one of them is when they play on the psychological horror in the fact that Lucifer; his torturer, tormentor, abuser and other half of his soul is the one that knows him best. He knows how powerless Sam feels - now that he's got lifetimes of trauma from the Cage that have skinned and flayed him on every level. His rigorous, borderline obsessive routine he keeps in his daily life through exercising and healthy eating - all to maintain a semblance of control. Yet deep down, it's like he told Rowena in s13:

"It’s not going to change anything. You’re still going to feel helpless."

Just as Lucifer knew that playing on Sam's desperate faith in religion and scramble to achieve purity (to be saved - as he said in s2) would be the only thing to get him to even go near the Cage, Lucifer knows that throwing back in his face his increased docility as time goes on as Sam's true failure and the reason why he will fail everyone around him is the only thing that could make Sam let himself be Lucifer's vessel. The way he spins it to sound like Sam not letting Lucifer out is proof of his weakness and helplessness. What if that was my last straw?

This scene, this whole episode, was so good and it made me want to claw my eyes out.

Lucifer calls him prissy. He says I never liked you but at this point - when you made the hard choice to save the world and condemned yourself in the Cage to me in holy matrimony, I respected you. You're not that person anymore. You're soft and placid and weak and that's something to be ashamed of. You're going to doom the world now because you're too screwed in the head. Look at you and your first romantic affairs when you were younger - Solid B on the tongue action - yes I know that about you too.

Lucifer being all righteous in saying that its the fact that Sam and Dean would do anything to save each other that is the problem that keeps dooming the world. And it's horrible because Sam knows he's right, the viewer knows he's right - their codependency is their moral pitfall, but it's all spiraling to the worst conclusion.

Tell you what - the second half of s11 can shove it's sympathy for the devil routine down my throat all it wants, but I will never stop hating that slimy bastard. The potential of s11 was unmatched in reaping psychological warfare on Sam, and it was a shame that it played out in such a... goofy... unnuanced... cheap semblance of a redemption arc... way that it did. But still, it is scenes like this one that pull through to make the season worth it.

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phosphophylight-of-my-life · 10 months

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oshi no ko aqua is such a fun character bc by most counts he's a more than decent guy.

in his first life he regularly visited hospital inpatients who had no visitors. he was genuinely happy and excited to help Ai deliver her babies, because he wants her to be happy on her own terms. he saves Akane simply because he can, and gets angry at the staff on her behalf. he doesn't stop at saving her life and spends sleepless nights turning around her public image. at that point there was nothing in it for him to keep akane around, she was just a person he was able to help and wanted to help.

by most counts he's a pretty decent guy who steps up when people need him most, except. except he's also a guy who really wants to kill his dad and that makes him manipulate people somewhat often and this is somehow not entirely at odds with his instinct to help others

#oshi no ko #like he's a doctor i can rly respect yknow #except for the patricide thing #gorou said do no harm unless it's my dad #also the way that gorou regularly visit patients is something SARINA has to tell the audience and not gorou #bc to gorou is nothing worth mentioning #for quite a while i was like man gorou is kind of sleazy for only visiting sarina esp when she's so young and vulnerable #but he visits the others also... sarina was just the most special patient to him because she introduced him to ai and also #because she was a kid whose parents never showed up #also SPOILERS FOR LIKE CH90+ OR SMTHING BELOW #the way aqua doesnt let akane dirty her hands like ok aqua we get it you want the best for everyone who isnt your dad #wipes tear someone get him therapy hes a decent guy who's ruining his life #also the way he is conscious of how he's playing w akane's feelings and tries very hard to be honest with her and to do her right #like sigh okay aqua i GUESS i cant hate you #and that one ghosting kana arc where i wanted to beat him up and then he was like i dont want to drag kana into this & he looked terrified #like SIGH. OKAY. FINE AQUA i cant hate you after all #like apart from the patricide (which is big know) the biggest downside to his personality is how cold he is #he pushes ppl away all the time and is just borderline rude #but like idk i feel like thats a byproduct of his 'i plan to go to jail for patricide and dont want to drag others down' mindset #which is like... well. you can't hate him for that.. he's looking out for others in his own way

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jacksprostate · 3 months

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Before Project Mayhem, before fight club, before Marla, before Tyler — there is still one sad sack of shit.

The hard part about work trips isn't making the plane or seeing another family of five burnt into their leather seats. It's missing support groups.

See, if you're lucky, the company will send you out to a major city. Cities are great. A little advanced work to find a slightly below average church or library, you're set each night you're there.

It's a bit of novelty, getting to be a new face all at once. People assume you've just been diagnosed. It's never the failed treatments, the degradation of their life and everyone in it, the continuous experience of knowingly dying — none of those things are the worst thing that happens to you.

It's finding out they will.

So people cry. They crowd around, I sob like I've been told I've got stage four colon cancer and three weeks to live. We all cry. I sleep soundly on the plane back or in the nice, four star hotel my company provides me.

Flying out to a small town, though. I'll be awake enough to be hallucinating by the time I get back for Remaining Men Together. The only mercy is that the next time I show for all the groups I missed, I can see who thought I died. I get to be resurrected.

The other part about small towns, you have to take a second, shitter plane to a local airfield, or you have to take a rental car. One of the most popular rental cars available right now, it'll light itself on fire if you use the cruise control at the wrong time. I know this because I sat next to another guy with my job, who worked for a different company, and he said I'll show you mine if you show me yours. So I told him about the faulty airbags, and he told me about the overheating switch.

I prefer to avoid driving.

All the rental place at the airport has left for me, it's one of those flaming cars. I use cruise control. If I don't, one of my narcoleptic spells will send me into the Jersey barrier.

When you drive into these small towns, you have to try to pay attention, or you'll end up a county over talking about the wrong wreck. They're otherwise interchangeable, but the miles on your rental car won't line up and those are the type of records that might get pulled out when the company is finally sued for the big one ten years down the line.

As a result, I see the same decor on the way in every time. Meth lab. Abandoned homes. Garbage fire. Classic Americana. There is no four star hotel here; I sleep the same.

The only reason I've been brought out here is because the poor shithead who drove his truck into the ditch drunk was driving my company's flagship vehicle. It loses power steering if the car jostles the right way going above 55 miles per hour. I've been told to keep track of potential incidents and make sure the company can firmly claim it's not at fault.

We've had this problem for decades, and we will for many more. Sometimes, everything is falling apart.

The job is simple, and I only get tempted by the town's blatant opioid addiction for a day and night. Painkillers would probably make me sleep. The thing about being a recall campaign organizer, though, is like recognizes like. It's not only other Compliance and Liability guys who tell you company secrets while sharing the aisle in business class.

When I'm finally back in my own town, after my own support groups, after crying my eyes out into Bob's meaty middle — I pick up my mail. There's the newest IKEA magazine. Half of it looks like shit. The type of thing you'd only see in some curated art deco, modernist, post-modern traditionalist bohemian minimalist apartment.

I have to have it.

I go to sleep, hard, like God himself tucked me in. I sleep with my wallet net four hundred heavier, because even an IKEA spree tends not to outweigh a work trip. I sleep, with my called in IKEA goods only two short weeks away, my job well done, and I know, my life is complete.

#fight club #my writing #KEY INFO: this is Before Tyler #bit experimental as a result. how to peel away some of the narratorisms but have him still be the narrator? how to make him complacent #like a wisconsin dairy cow but still have undertones of extreme conscious and subconscious distress?#all car faults mentioned are real #ford had an overheating cruise control switch #and some other overheating fire switches #and jeep. i know because i knew a guy with a jeep — they randomly lose pwoer steering sometimes #horrific and scary and potentially deadly in any car — but jeeps have this known and bizzarely widely accepted flaw called the death wobble #which refers to the oscillations that rapidly feed on each other if the car is slightly out of tune #and can result in tearing the steering wheel from your hands #until you slow down #for some reason that's just accepted.#theres a lot of jeep propaganda #anyway you combine those two #you get the picture #i dont doubt theres been incidents even if there hasnt been major recalls lol #i hope this one comes across well... it's always strange to explore an almost hypothetical version of a character. the narrator where Tyler #is just a growing little menace in his head....#I think what made this one fun for me though is the narrator would still be pretty openly bleak I think but the SUBCONSCIOUS stuff.#especially all the stuff I implied at the end. very fun to write #and it was also just fun to lay down the like.... seeds. of things #this is before Tyler in the sense that it's before he was well cooked. Before they met. Etc. Pretty early into the support groups. But yk #he is sleeping.

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