#mary answers!

[sparvverius]

and was marie antoinette effectively utilizing coquette dollette hyper feminine toxic femininity lana del rey old money ceramic baby fawn sad girl girlhood girlblogger girlboss power when she secretly conspired with foreign countries to kill scores of her own citizens in an attempt to restore the absolute monarchy and the regime that had rendered millions starving poor oppressed colonized enslaved and murdered

[uncharted-constellations]

I... Cannot stop

[kedreeva]

OC Askbox Game

I'm avoiding writing and you probably are too, so let's at least think about our characters while we do it.

You know the drill- send me a number (ONE number, you can come back for more) and I'll answer for an OC of your choice (if you know their name) or my choice (if you don't know their name). Feel free to name some of your OCs in the tags of your reblog, if you want to be asked about them.

How did you choose their name?

Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?

Do they have a love interest, and was that their choice or yours?

Do they have a best friend? If so, how did they meet? If not, have they ever/why never?

Did they have a pet as a child?

What catalyzed their introduction to the plot?

What attribute of them (some facet of their personality, their history, their look, or whatever etc) would you find most important to somehow preserve if they were transplanted to an AU fanfic?

If your character's financial situation were to suddenly flip (someone poor becoming rich, someone rich becoming poor, etc), how well would they handle it? What would be the first thing they would do?

If your character could have handed their role in the plot to someone else, would they have?

Free Space #1: Which of your OCs would be most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse? Which would die immediately?

Does your character have a pet peeve?

Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?

Who is your character's closest (by relation, fondness, or distance) blood relative?

How does your character feel about riding horses (or your world's closest approximation of a horse if it lacks horses)?

Is your character's first instinct fight or flight? Is there something that could force them to do the opposite?

What is your character's favorite leisure activity?

Is your character holding any grudges? Are they likely to stop?

If your character were trapped on a deserted island, what three things would they want to have with them? Which person would they absolutely hate to be trapped there with? Which person would they enjoy being trapped there with?

Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

Free Space #2: Which of your OCs would you most like to meet in person, if they could become real (or you could visit them) for a day?

Final Question: Ask me your own question about my OC

Remember: play nice! Send an ask to the person you reblogged this from, and try to send a few to folks that reblog from you!

[timbit-robin-art]

can you draw more gambit wearing a baseball cap? (bonus points if rogue it there too) 🩷🩷

Look what they found while cleaning the boathouse.

[barcaatthemoon]

Congrats on 1K!! Could you maybe do 64 & 10 from the big prompts list for any player of your choice??

10. "Your job isn't to make sure I make it out alive, not anymore."

64. "You were supposed to love and cherish me."

thank you, it's crazy. i feel like i just started this sideblog a few weeks ago.

bad habits || mary earps x reader ||

you weren't an athlete anymore. you weren't really anything anymore, not yet. there were talks about different directions and options since you decided to retire. for the time being, you had decided to go back home, back to the city where it all began.

manchester wasn't the biggest city that you lived in, but you swore that it was bigger before. there were supposed to be more bars than the one that mary apparently frequented. you couldn't stop yourself from running into her everywhere it seemed. slowly but surely, it was driving you crazy.

"that's gonna kill you one day." you didn't need to look to know that it was mary. she had met your eye inside, leaving you to count down the moments until she came over. mary couldn't stay away from you, not that you fared much better in the long run.

"well, it's not your job to make sure i make it out alive. not anymore, mary," you told her. mary frowned at you as she reached for your hand. you jerked it away, not wanting to hash things out. the breakup had happened over a decade ago, but it was still fresh to you. you had run away to the one place you knew mary would never go, america.

"what happened to you?" mary asked. she knew the same story that the media had gotten, but she could see that you were different. this looked like more than just a divorce and forced retirement. you were smaller, far too thin and frail in mary's opinion.

"i keep falling for assholes, that's what happened," you snapped. mary's face fell, but she didn't argue. mary knew that she had messed up when it came to your relationship. she hadn't loved you the way that you deserved. the worst part was that mary wasn't sure that she'd be able to do anything different if she had a second chance.

"have you got a place in town or are you at your mum's?" mary asked. it was like she knew exactly where this was going. a fight outside, a few drinks in the bar, and then the two of you would be fucking like rabbits until the morning.

"mum's couch, my old room was repurposed. it's fucking embarrassing, but it's my fault i guess. i was supposed to come back home at some point, but we don't always do the things we're supposed to, do we?"

mary stiffened as she looked down at you and asked, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"you were supposed to love and cherish me, but you didn't. i wanted you to fight for me, i fought like hell for you. now, it's all fucked up." you were on the verge of tears and couldn't stop yourself. once again, mary didn't even try to fight you as you hurled insults at her. she took it all on the chin, only going back inside when it became obvious that it wasn't all about her. true to the cycle, six shots later, mary was carrying you out of the bar with her arm wrapped around her waist.

"i couldn't fight for you love, not when you wanted to play with the americans so badly," mary said. you were barely awake, and mary was hopeful that you didn't really hear her. if you knew how much she had fought herself about letting you go, it would have opened a whole new can of worms that mary couldn't handle opening. instead, she'd go through this with you as many times as she had to until one of you finally moved on.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

SO I noticed that ofc gorgug being mad at Mary Ann is hilarious

But Mary Ann LOVES mango soda… and she asked gorgug if HE was drinking mango soda…

Do you think she was actually trying to attempt to find something similar with gorgug 🥹

Oh my god absolutely 🥺 she does not wanna fight these kids she just wants to be friendly with the kids on her team and find some real connection 😭

[thorias]

No, seriously, what the hell is going on here? The more information we get about this, the more confusing it becomes.

Nightcrawler encourages Remy to marry Rogue; the thought of it makes Remy smile. Then Rogue wears her famous first-date-with-Remy dress to the gala where she dances with Magneto instead and kisses him right in front of Remy. So Remy gets his heart ripped out and then dies believing that the woman he loves had chosen the other guy.

I, like many people, thought there had to be some kind of timeline reset coming to change these events because that's the only way they'd make any sense. I mean, why on Earth would you even think of doing it this way if the whole point wasn't to undo it? But Beau DeMayo has since dismissed the possibility of resolving this with time travel, so... WTF?!

Why have Rogue wear that dress? She could have worn literally anything, any other outfit, but it had to be that particular dress, a dress that has very special significance to anyone who loves the Romy relationship... and it's used as a way to completely gut Remy and the fans alike right before he gets killed?

WHY?!

And now that we know there's no time travel fix, this means that, even if Remy is resurrected as Deathbit, Rogue won't be going back in time, won't save Remy that way, won't get to rectify that moment by dancing with Remy instead...

...SO HOW DO YOU FUCKING FIX THIS THEN? WHY DO IT THIS WAY? WHAT WAS EVEN THE POINT OF THIS EXCEPT TO TAKE SOMETHING CHERISHED AND BELOVED BY THE FANS AND NIHILISTICALLY PISS ALL OVER IT JUST FOR THE SAKE OF ABJECT CRUELTY?

Was the cruelty the point? Did they just want to take something the fans loved and desecrate it because they think that's funny or something? What the fuck are we doing here?!

Yeah, there's two episodes left and a lot can still happen, but holy shit, I officially have no clue how they can pay all this off in a way that's going to be in any way satisfying or even make sense at this point...

[songsofadelaide]

Your Megumi Drabble of him teaching you the hand symbols but ! BUT! Imagine its years later and you both are making shadow puppets with your toddler. ;-;

DONT MIND ME IN MY FEELS

Hello! Thank you so much for all the love for Shadows as one. This idea is so cute and wholesome and I hope you don't mind if I write something about it. 🥺

shadows as one.

cw: female reader, future fic, established marriage, slice of life, child oc (fushiguro mikoto), papa!megumi being a li'l prankster — "you'd expect something like that from gojo-san! Not you!"

~ 20XX

"This is a bunny," you said with a smile as you tenderly moulded the soft little hands in yours to form the shadow puppet of a rabbit, the silhouette on your living room wall amusing your child so much that he didn't even pay attention to the way you gently squeezed his fingers for the form to stay put.

"Bunny!"

"Yes, a bunny!" You happily echoed his statement, trying your best not to engulf him into another embrace.

But you couldn't help it. Mikoto became the light of your world the moment he was born. It was impossible not to fall in love with him at first sight when he looked so much like his father— dark hair, length, feathery lashes that fanned out and framed his deep blue eyes... The nurse couldn't blame you for nearly snatching him off her arms when she was handing him to you.

And when Megumi first cradled your son in his arms, he was completely enamoured, even though it was like he was looking at a mirror. Dispelling the vestiges of his troubled childhood was no easy task— and he even questioned his own capabilities as a father— but he persisted to live in the present in the arms of his wife.

Mikoto beamed as he placed his small hands in his father's own, his cheeky expression never leaving his face as Megumi softly shaped his hands into the snout of a familiar canine.

"And this is a—"

You and your husband nearly fell off your couch when Mikoto just did the unthinkable.

The surprise appearance of the pristine white dog startled him so much that he couldn't help but let out a tearful wail of shock. You swiftly got over your disbelief when you heard him crying, his tiny hands hurriedly clutching onto you once you were within his reach.

"Where on earth—" you started, brows furrowed in confusion. It was too early for Mikoto to sense cursed energy let alone manifest it. And for him to possess his father's inherited technique meant—

"—hgk."

"Wh—" You were startled by the strange noise that sounded like someone being choked. You turned to Megumi, expecting him to be in deep thought, but all you saw was your husband sitting on the couch once more, his quivering lips pursed to a thin line in an attempt to hold his laughter.

"Megumi, I never pegged you as the kind of dad who'd make fun of his own kid," you clicked your tongue at your husband as you gently bounced your son in your arms. "You'd expect something like that from Gojo-san! Not you!"

"I-I'm sorry," he stated with a stifled voice before eventually sighing to himself. "I didn't expect Mikoto to be scared of the Divine Dog..."

"I suppose the rabbits wouldn't have been any different," you said with a sigh as well. "Then again, they're much tinier..."

"Give me," Megumi stated as he got up, gently lifting your son out of your arms and into his. He ran his thumb over Mikoto's warm cheeks. He didn't want to appear insincere, but he couldn't help but smile in delight at how emotive his son was, so different from when he was younger. "Papa's sorry, Mi-kun..."

His tiny version could only blink his blue eyes at him before eventually pointing to the Divine Dog in your living room. "Big dog..."

"Yes, big dog. Big dog is a good dog."

As if sensing it was being talked about, the white wolf got on its feet and circled its master's legs. It placed its snout in Mikoto's outstretched hand, a look of trust in its eyes.

"Try pranking him again when he's a little older," you said with a small laugh. A smile lit the boy's face again as Megumi placed him down on the floor so he could pet the harmless shikigami.

And if he inherits his technique... No. Megumi didn't want to think about that now. He was a father now and he wanted to get this thing right. He didn't want to miss a single thing in Mikoto's life. He wanted to be there right now.

"I don't want him to grow up so fast, though..."

"He won't," you chuckled in response, only for Megumi to take your hand in his. He threaded his fingers into your own, once again calmed by the sight of your three shadows coming together as one.

Author's notes: Happy birthday, Megumi! 🎂 Never imagined you as a papa before, but here's a little glimpse for us yearners hehe. 🥺💙

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

My friend put her cat in a shirt and why do I feel like Mary would do this with Pussy (will never shut up about that name)

because she would. and she’d make a post abt it.

[theballadoflucygraybaird]

What if I told you I'm a matsermind?

[poetrysmackdown]

what makes a poem a poem? does it have to be written in a certain way? is this question a poem if i want it to be?

Fun question! This is just my personal sense as an avid reader and less-avid writer of poetry, but for me it’s useful to distinguish (roughly) between poetry as a genre and poetry as an attitude or philosophy through which language and the world can be understood. And of course these two go hand in hand. I see poetry the genre as essentially a type of literature where we as readers are signaled, somehow, to pay closer attention to language, to rhythm, to sound, to syntax, to images, and to meaning. That attentive posture is the “attitude” of broader poetic thinking, and while it’s most commonly applied to appreciate work that’s been written for that purpose, there’s nothing stopping us from applying that attentiveness elsewhere. Everywhere, even! That’s how you eventually end up writing poetry for yourself, after all. There’s a quote from Mary Ruefle floating around on here that a lot of folks have probably already seen, but it immediately comes to mind with this ask:

“And when you think about it, poets always want us to be moved by something, until in the end, you begin to suspect that a poet is someone who is moved by everything, who just stands in front of the world and weeps and laughs and laughs and weeps.”

Similarly, after adopting the attentive posture of poetics, there’s plenty of things that can feel or sound like a poem, even when they perhaps were not written with that purpose in mind. I’ve seen a couple of these “found poems” on here that are quite fun—this one, for example. The meaning and enjoyment you may derive from the language of a found poem isn’t any less real than that derived from a poem written for explicitly poetic purposes, so I don’t see why it shouldn’t be called poetry.

That said, I do think that if you’re going to go out and start looking for poetry everywhere, it’s still important to have a foundation in the actual language work of it all. Now, this doesn’t mean it has to be “written in a certain way” at all! But it does mean that in order to cultivate the attentiveness that’s vital to poetry, one needs to understand what makes language tick, down at its most basic levels. It will make you better at reading poetry, better at writing it, and better at spotting it out in the wild.

Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook is an extraordinary resource to new writers and readers, and a great read for more experienced folks as well. Mary Oliver’s most popular poems are all to my knowledge in free verse, and yet you might be surprised to find her deep appreciation for metrical verse (patterns of stressed/unstressed syllables), as well as for the most minute devices of sound. In discussing the so-called poetry of the past, she writes,

“Acquaintance with the main body of English poetry is absolutely essential—it is the whole cake, while what has been written in the last hundred years or so, without meter, is no more than an icing. And, indeed, I do not really mean an acquaintanceship—I mean an engrossed and able affinity with metrical verse. To be without this felt sensitivity to a poem as a structure of lines and rhythmic energy and repetitive sound is to be forever less equipped, less deft than the poet who dreams of making a new thing can afford to be.”

In another section, after devoting lots of attention to the sounds at work in Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, she writes,

“Everything transcends from the confines of its initial meaning; it is not only the transcendence in meaning but the sound of the transcendence that enables it to work. With the wrong sounds, it could not have happened.”

I hope all this helps to get across my opinion that what makes a poem a poem is not just about the author's intention, and not just about meaning (intended or attributed), but also about sound and rhythm and language and history, all coalescing into something that rises above the din of a language we would otherwise grow tired of while out in our day-to-day lives.

I'll always have more to say but I'm cutting myself off here! Thanks for the ask

[marquisdeglad]

Alright, was Marie Atonette a bitch or was that something the French Revolutionaries made up?

Marie Antoinette was an out of touch aristocratic rich girl, who had the bad luck to be queen of France during one of the worst periods of economic inequality the country ever faced. Her biggest crimes were marrying a supremely incompetent and unpopular king, and wearing fancy, expensive dresses at lavish parties when the peasants were being taxed into starvation.

Everything else? The Jacobins and the rest of the revolutionary mob slandered her to justify killing her. They had already decided the king and queen had to die, as they were symbols of the oppressive monarchy the Revolution overthrew, but they needed to make it look good to the population.

You have to remember - the peasantry and lower classes of France were legitimately suffering and oppressed, both economically and legally. But the Jacobins were bloodthirsty maniacs, led by a man who was called "The Incorruptible" because his fanaticism was unwavering.

So, was Marie Antoinette a good person? Who knows. She was incredibly privileged in a time when many had nothing. She was hated by many. She was vilified by the propaganda machine of one of the most fanatically violent revolutionary parties in human history. She was demonstrably out of touch. She was obviously in over her head.

Her last words were to apologize to the the executioner for accidentally stepping on his foot as she climbed into the guillotine.

[foolsocracy]

i love your spidey robbie :3

thank you!! heres some more doodles of him :]

[timbit-robin-art]

can u draw rogue and gambit do not separate. my bf is too scared to ask u. thank u love u

Be not afraid of The Goobmeister (that’s me. I’m The Goobmeister). Now enjoy this day at the beach with the sillies.

[yjposting]

More Yellowjackets + text posts who cheered

[ivppiter-06]

Why no one warned me about what i would feel with "We Become We" from Journey To Bethlehem????