#can't believe that one tbh

[bumpscosity]

(1 2 3)

[marshmallowgoop]

no thoughts just Heiji Hattori (HD)

[tei-to-tei]

December 5 - Solidarity

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ...

[salted15]

hey tadc fans . you guys liked the last jax drawing a lot so here's a doodle

(btw i do commissions now !!! you can order from me here)

[mochiajclayne]

Marineford Law is no question interesting to me because he pulled off a surprise, motherfucker moment and the timing was so good to the point that both pirates and marines least expected it.

Before I proceed with this self-indulgent lawlu meta post, I will go ahead and say that everything that happened between them in Marineford is a catalyst of establishing their connection later on in the future arcs. I am a firm believer that those feelings™️ started to truly bloom in Punk Hazard and went downhill in a good way in Dressrosa.

Long post ahead. Enjoy!

When I was rewatching Marineford arc, the part where Buggy was already carrying an unconscious and injured Luffy and Jimbei, their conversation sparked my interest.

Highlighting the bit where Buggy was confused about Law's verbal tic of using the suffix -ya in referring to anyone, overall doubting him, then asking for Law's name. Don't forget that Law is a little shit (affectionate) so he proceeded to ignore all of those questions to say this:

Interestingly enough, this part is tricky to translate. I found two translations that closely encapsulate what Law wanted to say here but mind you, and I will sound redundant about this with everything that has got to do with Trafalgar Law's speech patterns: he likes speaking in runarounds, purposely using terms with double meanings and connotations on them, and he's both reticent and cryptic. (I wouldn't say not to trust on his words but don't take them at face value.)

Law described his connection with Luffy as 悪縁 (akuen) which directly translates as evil destiny or connection.

Forgive me for a bit of sidetracking but the kanji used for akuen is the same with Robin's epithet which is "Demon Child" (akuma no ko). To further elaborate, 悪 (aku) means evil--both as intent and violating a moral code. It is also used to refer as the direct opposite of good.

Going back to 悪縁 (akuen), in true Law fashion, this word doesn't only mean evil destiny or connection. Depending on the context, it can also mean unfortunate love.

(It sounds tragic coming from him, isn't it? If your mind was blown after this part, no worries, I am too. This part gave me so much whiplash when I was researching about it.)

So, considering these two interpretations of 悪縁 (akuen), that begs the question, what is Law's connection with Luffy?

On surface-level, they are enemies as Law said so himself. They're rivals when it comes to One Piece. Their common ground, which is only known among people that Law trusts the most, is sharing the same secret name of D. However, I will take one step ahead and say that they both went through the same tragic fate of losing their loved ones, for being weak and powerless to protect them. They were both involved in circumstances where if they were capable enough, they could've saved the person they loved the most. Doomed by the narrative and subjected to trauma that breaks their heart and spirit should they be lesser men to handle such misery and grief. It is unfortunate, disastrous, and cursed to love fully knowing the fact that the other person could die like the ones before them but these two have the biggest heart.

Of course, Law will never say it directly. Thus, settling for 悪縁 (akuen).

It gets better. He did say 悪縁も縁 (akuen mo en) and 縁 (en) itself means fate or destiny (especially a mysterious force that binds two people together). Additionally, も (mo) is also a particle that is used for emphasis.

The implication, in turn, of what Law said to Buggy can be translated this way: Strawhat-ya and I (will) eventually be enemies, but an evil connection is (the futuristic possibility of Luffy becoming his enemy) is fate (that binds them).

Law made sure to emphasize that their "evil connection" is fate: specifically, that mysterious force brought them together and compelled him to be there, that he was meant to sail to Marineford, and help Luffy escape.

These two translations are the closest that I found to be accurate but it's still scratching the surface of what Law said:

This entire panel between Ivankov and Law makes it funnier because he clocked him IMMEDIATELY.

Ivankov asked if he's friends with Luffy to which he replied: no.

He also emphasized that that he doesn't have any obligation to help him but then went on to say this:

親切 (shinsetsu) means kind, generous, gentle, considerate. 不安 (fuan) refers to anxiety, uneasiness, worry, apprehension. These are surprisingly direct words but of course, Law had to go back and be cryptic again when he followed up with 理屈 (rikutsu), which could mean two things: theory, reason, logic or (unreasonable) argument, excuse.

I think this panel did a good job for translating it.

Law himself is providing Ivankov here the benefit of the doubt. To reiterate, Ivankov beats him to the punch which makes their entire interaction so funny.

Again, brilliant translation for directly calling out Law's bullshit. Lmao. Ivankov says 直感 (chokkan) here. It means intuition, instinct, hunch. Please take the next statement that I will say with a grain of salt but "instinctively moving your body" is usually associated with the context of being reckless to the point of directly exposing oneself to danger, consequences be damned, in order to protect someone.

Even Law himself acknowledged that he's not obligated to be there, so why?

Unfortunately, this is the elephant in the room that Law will never address. Several characters even made sure to point out that he helped Luffy two years ago and he purposely dodges that topic.

One thing I can guarantee is that Law never did it to get Luffy to agree for the alliance. Hell, he thought of the alliance after reuniting with Luffy! He adjusted his plans by then. Additionally, he never used the fact that he saved Luffy's life as his bargaining chip and leverage to get him on board the alliance.

Lastly, this is too much for saving a life on a whim, isn't it, Law?

[wiklm]

some rarijack for the soul

[beanghostprincess]

zoro is actually so fit because he has to carry the weight of being the gayest fucking character in one piece and that must be an awesome upper body workout

[catboyartist]

Yeah I've been productive the past few days

[jjinpang]

@namiargentum:thanks for the request

[skitskatdacat63]

Vettonso x Similar Helmets

SV Germany 2012 x FA Monaco 2013: Gold & Dark Red

I think a lot about Vettonso and their mutual relationship witn gold. They're both golden boys, they're both seen lit gold by the sunshine on many podiums throughout the years, both have worn golden boots, and as you can see here: both have worn golden helmets. The parallels in these particular helmets makes me feel insane. Both are: gold with dark red accents, both have their birthplace's coat of arms(Bergstraße and Asturias), both have team animal motifs, and both have symbols to represent their two championships(You by now know the signifigance of the ones on Fernando's helmet, but I think the ones on Seb's are actually a callback to his Formula BMW days when he used to put the smiley stickers on his car for every win.)

And did you know both of these helmets were designed by the same helmet design company? Yep, both of these are JMD helmets. I know JMD helmets are/were pretty popular, but still, there's something to me about Fernando commissioning the same designer that Seb has been using since he was a literal child. Parallels, am I right?

SV Japan 2010 x FA Japan 2023: White with Black & Red

Haha I remember @protocolseben and I discussing this a bit back in September when Fernando's helmet dropped. I honestly think Seb is such an innovator and trailblazer in terms of helmet design, and you can see his influence in helmet design as recently as this past season. I'm not sure if he was the first ever driver to don a matte white helmet with red accents as a representation of the Japanese flag, but it certainly envoked him in my mind when I saw Fernando's!!

I think Fernando's is pretty similar to all of Seb's 2010-2012 Japan helmets but I like this one the most so! I think if Seb wasn't restrained by the Red Bull logo, he def wouldv'e put the red circle where Nando put his so I think Fernando did a really good job, even if unintentionally, at emulating Seb's sense of design.

SV Singapore 2012 x FA Singapore 2012: Sparkly!

Like I said in the one above, it's crazy how much Seb influenced helmet design. He was pretty much the pioneer of sparkly helmets for Singapore, right? It drives me absolutely insane that there's actually pictures of them together in such similar designed helmets. It's kinda funny actually that even though they're pretty deep in the championship fight at this point, and Seb just got one up on Fernando; Fernando is wearing a helmet that is a direct influence from Seb!!! Is that not insane???

Also, Fernando trying to be camp with trying the now in vogue sparkly Singapore helmet, and Seb accidentally completely blew him out of the water with his outrageous light up LED constellation helmet. But god yeah....to have pics of them in matching helmets from this era particuarly makes me emotional ;;;

SV Hungary 2021 x FA 2022: Pink with Dark Blue

I really could've picked any of Seb's 2021 helmets, but I thought this one matched the best with Fernando's main 2021 helmet(with the color pallet.) Also one thing, it's crazy how much control BWT has as a sponsor, I don't think I've ever seen another sponsor go so hard at having a chokehold on individuality. I like that we got pink liveries and pink helmets, but I don't think they should have that much control.

I'm almost kinda sad there wasn't any Miami GP in 2021, because I think that was the only unique helmet Fernando had in 2022. But these match pretty well! Pretty in pink!! It's crazy that their parallels in the 2020s are ongoing even before Fernando actually takes over Seb's seat. Thanks BWT I guess?

SV Abu Dhabi 2022 x FA Abu Dhabi 2022: Fernando's Seb Tribute Helmet

AND HERE WE HAVE THE PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE!!! The ultimate conclusion, it literally couldn't get better than this!! This is still unbelievable, like how is this an actual thing that happened!? Fernando intentionally branding his helmet, the only symbol of individuality in F1, with his rival's flag colors, HIS FLAG!!!!! Not to mention the literal "Vettono Best Moments" collage he posted alongside it....and the hand-holding....and everything that happened with them at Abu Dhabi 2022....

But god, after years of incidentally making parallel helmet designs, Fernando decided to officially tie the knot of the red string of fate, and make a helmet directly referencing Seb's. I think it's funny because as I said with two of the previously mentioned ones, those Fernando designs are pretty much inspired by Seb's, and here he is openly making one directly inspired by Seb. I don't really have words for how this actually makes me feel because it's just. Yeah. The most open and clear declaration of love and respect and admiration one could ever make. TO ME.

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

Anachronistic Greetings

by SigniorBenedickofPadua — Read on AO3

Pairing: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Rating: Mature Words: 2900 Tags: Sleep Deprivation, Accidental Kissing, Professor Hob Gadling, First Kiss, Getting Together, Dream Sex, Middle English. Counter Sex, or counter-foreplay to be precise, Accidental Confession, Daydreaming, Feelings Revealed by Daydreaming

Summary:

Hob is sleep deprived. That's fine, it happens, he's used to it. It's just that when you're 600-something the centuries can start to blend together a bit when you're tired. Enough so, apparently, that when Dream pops by for a visit, Hob's muddled brain decides to greet him with a "Salve!" and a kiss on the lips like it's still 1389 and he's greeting any old friend and not the cosmic being he's secretly in love with in the year of our Lord 2023. It's a good thing Dream is understanding. Very understanding.

Hob stared down at the kitchen table he was sitting at, resting his head in his hands as he absently followed the pattern of the wood grain with unseeing eyes, mind occupied with thoughts of absolutely nothing at all. He could have been sitting there for anything between seconds and hours for all he knew when he suddenly blinked and realised that he had entered the kitchen to get something to eat. Probably. He was fairly sure he hadn’t eaten yet.

He shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it and come back to the then and there. He had just gotten home from work, and he was going to have dinner. Right. Yes. Only problem was he hadn’t quite got to that point before spacing out and forgetting what he was doing due to the fact that he hadn’t slept a wink last night. He’d had to stay up late marking essays, after which his brain had just refused to shut off and stop thinking about Middle English syntax for long enough for him to fall asleep.

Actually, come to think of it, that was two nights ago. Had he been awake all of last night too? He thought he might have been, having been too tired to fall asleep because the human body was bloody stupid like that. He attributed the fact that he hadn’t simply collapsed in front of his students while lecturing to his experience marching for days without proper rest back when he was constantly fighting for or against one Plantagenet king or another. But just because his body had kept going through the day didn’t mean his brain had followed at the same pace.

He felt a little bad for his students, to be honest, because he doubted his lectures had been up to his usual standards. At one point, if he remembered correctly, he had slipped into Middle French for several sentences before realising it, and, while talking about how the printing press had contributed to standardising the vocabulary of the English language, he was pretty sure he had used the pronouns “I” and “we” a few too many times to be entirely advisable for someone who was keen on keeping their immortality a secret.

He blinked again. Food. Right. He’d gotten distracted thinking about why he was distracted in the first place. Maybe he should just give up and go straight to bed, to catch up. Or maybe he’d better stay awake and go to bed at a normal time so as not to fuck up his sleep schedule even more by going to sleep at five in the afternoon. Hm. Dinner first. Then decisions.

He had just gotten up from his chair with the intention of opening the fridge to see what his options were when he heard a knock on his front door. Seconds later, he heard it opening. Hob instinctively reached for a sword which no longer hung at his hip before realising that a burglar probably wouldn’t bother knocking before breaking in, and that he had, in fact, forgotten to lock the door behind him when he got home.

The door closed behind his visitor, and he heard a familiar voice call, “Hob?”

Ah, of course. Who else would just waltz into his flat without waiting to be let in? He supposed he should be grateful Dream had learned to knock at all instead of just travelling by sand straight to Hob’s living room as he had often done back when the two of them had first started spending time together outside their centennial appointments. A wide smile spread across his face as he made his way into the hallway and laid eyes on his old friend. Sleep deprivation or not, Dream was always welcome.

“Salve, my freend,” he greeted him, laying his hands on Dream’s shoulders and standing on tiptoes to reach up and plant a kiss on his lips. “Wel y-mette.” He turned and headed back towards the kitchen. “I was just going to figure out dinner. Can I get you anything?”

There was no response, but Hob hadn’t really expected much of one. Asking Dream if he wanted something to eat or drink was mostly just a habitual courtesy — he knew he rarely indulged in such things in the waking world. He opened the fridge and looked over its contents with his own needs in mind as he waited for Dream to catch up and join him in the kitchen, which took longer than expected. Settling on some leftover stew, he removed the tupperware from the fridge and wandered over to the breadbox on the counter, cursing when he realised he was out of trencher bread. Wait. No. Why the fuck would he use a trencher? He had plates nowadays. Christ, he needed to sleep.

“Is this style of greeting coming back into fashion?” he heard Dream ask from the doorway, and he tore his eyes from the breadbox he had been blindly staring at for just a bit too long to look up at his friend.

“Hm? What greeting?”

Dream raised an eyebrow. “You do not usually kiss me when I enter your home.”

If Hob’s brain had been moving slowly before, now it froze completely. “Kiss? I didn’t—” His short-term memory finally caught up with him and he felt suddenly faint. “Oh, God… I’m— Fuck, I’m sorry, Dream.” The ice-cold fear that had gripped his heart was somewhat lessened by the fact that Dream looked mildly amused rather than offended, and he buried his rapidly flushing face in his hands. “Christ, I didn’t mean to— Sorry, I’m really out of it today and I think my brain has been stuck in the wrong century the entire day. I was going for a friendly greeting and apparently chose something that would’ve been appropriate six hundred years ago — before, you know, kissing on the mouth like that had the, uh, intimate connotations it has today.”

“I am aware of the greeting customs of humans, past and present,” Dream said, and when Hob dared to look up again, he could see the corner of his friend’s mouth twitch slightly, “I was merely taken aback by the anachronism.”

Hob took that as confirmation that he was forgiven for his slip-up, and he allowed himself a slightly nervous chuckle to lighten the mood, trying very hard to push back the thought that he had actually kissed Dream. He now knew what those lips felt like against his own, after having fantasised about it for ages. And this is how he found out? Through an absent-mindedly archaic greeting that was over in a second? Fucking hell, Gadling, get a grip. He needed to invest in sleeping pills after this, to prevent anything like it to ever happen again.

“Well, still. Sorry. Wouldn’t have been appropriate even if this had been the 14th century, would it? We’re hardly equals — you know, with you being a literal king and all. Someone like me should have kissed the hem of your coat, or the ground at your feet, or something like that.”

Dream took a step closer to where Hob was leaning back against the counter. “You are not my subject, Hob Gadling. You are my friend. I would rather have you kiss me like an equal.”

And wasn’t that a thought? Hob tried to remind himself that Dream’s words were on the subject of platonic greetings in a historical context, but he was finding it very, very hard not to imagine him saying the same thing in a modern context — as an invitation. His eyes dropped down to Dream’s plump lips, which looked so much softer when turned up in fond amusement than when pursed in annoyance or fury. Quite against his conscious efforts not to, he recalled the way they had parted slightly in surprise when he had covered them with his own and how they had not been as cool as he had previously imagined them, but pleasantly warm and lush. He imagined they would feel even more so if Dream initiated a kiss instead of being surprised by one. Especially if he abandoned the platonic pretence and kissed Hob the way he had dreamt of for far longer than he cared to admit.

Dream’s lips moved, saying something that Hob didn’t quite register, but which at least made him realise that he had been staring rather rudely.

“Hm?” he said again, tearing his eyes away to meet Dream’s. They were darker and closer to him than they had been before. “Sorry, what?”

“You are sleep deprived,” Dream stated simply.

“How did you know?”

“I am Dream of the Endless. I know.” He stepped even closer to Hob, almost crowding him against the counter. “And, being half asleep as you are, your daydreams are far more vivid and harder to ignore than usual.”

“What— Oh.” Oh no… “Fuck, I’m sorry—”

“No need to apologise,” Dream murmured. He was practically hovering over Hob at this point. “Unless…you did not mean it?”

His nose brushed lightly against Hob’s, and Hob forgot how to breathe. “Mean what?” he managed to squeeze out, dizzy with proximity to his oldest friend.

This close he could smell him. He could feel Dream’s breath (which he did not strictly need) dance over his lips when he spoke again, a low rumble which reverberated through Hob’s entire body and lit a fire in his belly.

“Do you wish me to stop?” Dream clarified, and there could be no question as to his meaning. Not when his body made contact with Hob’s, pressing him up against the counter, gently but insistently.

“No,” Hob breathed, half suspecting that he had, in fact, fallen asleep at the kitchen table and that this was a dream. But he had been friends with Dream long enough to be able to tell the difference between dreaming and waking, as well as how to tell if his friend was actually there in his dreams. As unlikely as this was, his feet were firmly planted in the Waking, even if his mind was at risk of straying dangerously close to the Dreaming in his current state. “No, I don’t.”

“Very well.” Dream’s voice was halfway between a purr and a growl as he surged forward, closing the remaining distance to slot their lips and bodies together.

Hob had been right. There was a world of difference between giving Dream a little peck on the mouth and being kissed by him in earnest. To say that sparks flew would be an understatement. It was more akin to being consumed but a wildfire, burning hot and fierce. Gone was the reserved stiffness his friend often exhibited in public. Now he sank his hands into Hob’s hair with passionate abandon and licked into his mouth like a man dying of thirst hoping to catch every last drop of water in his cup. He pressed himself close to Hob, slipping a knee between his legs and rolling his hips experimentally, obviously pleased when it wrung a moan out of Hob.

Hob’s hands flew up to Dream’s hips, finding their way beneath his stupid, elegant coat which he still hadn’t removed. He clutched at the fabric of his shirt, using it to pull his friend even closer, marvelling at the solidity of his thin body as he splayed a hand over his ribs and moved it in a caress around to his back. He could count every knob in his spine by touch, yes, but the muscles surrounding it were strong and firm and they danced beneath his hand as Dream reached down and lifted Hob onto the countertop like he weighed absolutely nothing — and fuck, if that wasn’t a turn on…

Hob retaliated by wrapping his legs around Dream’s lithe form and groaned when his friend rutted up against him. He was reasonably sure that Dream must have made himself taller than he’d been a moment ago for their groins to still be at the same height, but he had a hard time focusing on that when it felt so damn good to have Dream’s obvious erection rub against his own, even through far too many layers of clothes. 

“Fuck, Dream…” he gasped when Dream, a good while later, broke the kiss to instead mouth at the side of his neck, then up to nip at a sensitive earlobe, all while slipping his hands under the hem of his shirt to palm at longing skin. “Are you… Ah! Do you want to take this to the bedroom?”

He was proud of himself for managing the question without his voice trembling. Despite the fact that Dream had initiated this whole thing and was clearly as excited about it as Hob was, he still felt the half-irrational fear that any sudden moves or potentially offending propositions might send his friend running like he had the last time Hob had dared presume too much.

Dream hummed against the spot where Hob’s ear connected to his jaw and dragged his fingernails lightly down his back, sending a shiver down his spine. “A sensible idea. You are weary and need to rest.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Nevertheless, I think perhaps you ought to get some sleep. I can feel you yearning for the Dreaming, in mind and body alike.”

“For its ruler, maybe. I may be a bit tired, but I’d rather continue this than try and fail to go to sleep right now.”

He would never admit it, but a pang of anxiety shot through him at the thought of interrupting this at this point. He needed them to see it through, and to talk about it afterwards to figure out what the hell it meant. If they stopped now, if Dream left… Would they have the courage to bring it up the next time they saw each other, or would they dance around it for a few more centuries? He wasn’t sure he could bear that.

Dream pulled back enough to meet Hob’s eyes. His lips were red and puffy and sported an amused smile. “Hob, I shall join you in the Dreaming, naturally. I too am quite keen to finish what we have started.” He punctuated this with a roll of his hips which chased Hob’s fears away to make room for arousal. “As for falling asleep — there are certain benefits to keeping the King of Dreams as one’s lover. It will not prove an obstacle.”

Hob hardly heard anything he said after the word lover, which bounced around in his head like an intoxicating echo. “Well, then… Bringe me to bedde, louer myn,” he murmured, lifting a hand to push a strand of Dream’s wild hair behind his ear. It was just as soft as it looked.

His lover smiled and whispered, “Slepe, thanne, my biloued.”

Dream bent his head to place a gentle kiss on Hob’s forehead, and suddenly it was nigh on impossible to keep his eyes open. The last thing Hob was conscious of before sleep claimed him was his head slumping forward to rest on Dream’s shoulder. Then everything went dark and fuzzy.

***

When Hob next opened his eyes, he knew he was dreaming. He found himself in a room he did not recognise, but he knew it belonged to the Palace of the Dreaming. It was unclear whether he knew it because he recognised the stone the walls were built from, or the style of the lofty stained-glass windows, or because of the way you just knew things sometimes when you dreamt, but it hardly mattered. What mattered was that he was lucid, that he was in a bed, that he was naked beneath the sheets, and that Dream stood before him by the side of the bed, dressed only in a diaphanous black robe which was seemingly woven from pure shadow.

“Hello, Hob,” Dream rumbled, voice impossibly deep and sonorous here in his natural habitat. His eyes gleamed with starlight as he looked down at Hob.

“Please tell me I’m not currently asleep in a heap on my kitchen floor,” was what Hob managed to say after suppressing the urge to just whine and rip that horribly teasing robe off of Dream’s body.

“Of course not. I carried you to bed. The point was to ensure you got some restful sleep, which the floor is hardly suited for.”

“Oh, that’s the point of this, is it?” Hob asked with a breathless laugh, running his eyes down the neckline of the robe, which plunged dangerously low.

Dream smirked. “Among other things.” He placed a knee on the bed, and then, in an unnaturally smooth movement, he was seated across Hob’s hips, their bodies separated only by the gossamer fabric of the robe and the silky satin of the sheets.

“And what were those, again? Would you care to remind me?” Hob teased, reaching out to slide his hands up slim but powerful thighs.

“It would be my pleasure.”

That night, as Hob would later reflect, put every wet dream he’d had in his very long life to shame. The next morning, he woke up well-rested but starving, with a distinctly uncomfortable situation in his pants and a tupperware container full of spoiled stew waiting for him in the kitchen. That didn’t matter much, however, when he also woke up to find the King of Dreams in his bed.

[silusvesuius]

n*loth not being able to bag anyone over the (human term) age of 25-30 at most is the only logical and real conclusion to me because it can be just explained away as him wanting to prove and control everything and anyone (Cus he's a man!) but being stuck in that demographic because his unbearable and vile personality is a force that nobody can look past once they've outgrown the possible fear and idolization period of anyone but also n*loth in particular.

[yasmeensh]

Finally got to paint something a little more proper for my project. Paleolithic kids see a dragon come down from the sky 🐉

a few more doodles of my OCs Tam Kujo below >>

drew this one in the span of three days during class time :p. A few lines here and there while I wait for the prof to set up the slides and start the class. Kept going until I felt like not adding anymore.

two more

[tricoufamily]

he's too hot to be called greg. you gotta call him gregory

[eskawrites]

sometimes i still think about the fact that nancy is one of the most powerful, plot-critical characters in stranger things, and how she has led her own arc every single season--from driving the search for barb to taking down the lab to figuring out the flayed to being a fucking general by the end of season 4. and about how she was taking care of the kids during the last half of s3 and how she was the leader of the hawkins group in s4. like, i really cannot emphasize that enough. once the main character with superpowers and the actual war veteran chief of police are out of town, nancy is the unquestionable leader. the person everyone turns to without thinking twice. i’m serious. nancy is a teenage girl who has her every move questioned and doubted and still the only people more powerful than her in the show are a girl with superpowers and a war vet.

and when danger--physical danger--shows up, she doesn’t fucking hesitate. she’s diving straight into the upside down. she’s leading the older group to safety again. she’s shoving aside the 5 different traumatic experiences she just witnessed to put together a multi-step military operation and she’s taking point to go shove a shotgun in vecna’s face. and yeah, they end up not being alone when they face vecna because el is there, but nancy doesn’t know that. she’s fully intending on going to kill an adult man who has control over an entire dimension and has been murdering people with his mind, even though she has no backup, no superpowered el, no hopper and his government contacts, nothing.

and yet.

AND YET

the vast majority of natalia dyer’s press for s4 was about a love triangle. and i get it, a lot of interviewers can’t get away with not asking those questions, but you know what else you could ask about? nancy’s growth over the last 4 seasons. how it felt being the leader of the hawkins gang. how she thinks nancy feels after losing another friend. what was running through her head when vecna had her. what her thoughts are regarding nancy’s plan, or what’s going through her head during that final scene when she’s *checks notes* standing behind the show’s protagonist and looking at The Plot as it rises from the ground.

or, i don’t know, ask her what it’s like being the person handling guns on set. what those upside down night shoots were like. what her thoughts are on nancy’s choice of college! what she thinks about the perm! for fuck’s sake there are only a thousand different questions that would’ve been far more interesting or at least personal to her character. but no. every interview boils down to team steve or team jonathan, as if a tired, already resolved love triangle is anywhere near as interesting as literally any other part of her character

[aolechan]

Alejandro Muñoz and ✨His Outfits✨| Part 1