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araekniarchive · 2 years

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Maybe you made one already but i wanted to request a web on mary oliver's quote "mostly i want to be kind"

Thank you💫🌸

S. Bear Bergman, Your Faithful Servant, from Butch Is A Noun

Kaveh Akbar, Against Hell

Mary Oliver, Dogfish

@seravph, I THINK I AM GOING TO CUT MY HAIR

Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022) dirs. Daniels

Billie Letts, Where the Heart Is

@chaoticsandstorm, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it

Maria Popova, ‘Naomi Shihab Nye’s Beloved Ode to Kindness, Animated’ for The Marginalian

Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963

Patti Smith, Woolgathering

Danusha Laméris, Small Kindnesses

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dailydccomics · 1 year

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Diana’s different looks in Wonder Woman #798

#diana of themyscira #dc comics #diana prince #wonder woman #dc #mary marvel #mary bromfield #billy batson #WW vol 1 #my edit

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splendidnothings · 1 year

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Amazing Spider-Man #21 (2022) variant cover by Betsy Cola

#w #ww #www #wwww #wwwww #peter parker #felicia hardy #peterfel #mary jane watson #marvel comics #m art #marvel

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auroraleigh · 1 year

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some of my favourite musings on romantic (and sometimes obsessive) love for february and valentines

e.e. cummings / edith wharton / shirley hazzard / elizabeth smart / james baldwin / leonard cohen / marie howe

#web weaving #words #ee cummings #edith wharton #shirley hazzard #elizabeth smart #james baldwin #leonard cohen #marie howe #the age of innocence #the transit of venus #giovanni’s room #literature #love #valentines #ww

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sakuramoussy · 2 months

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Sol, a mysterious guy with a confusing past that Con and Kai meet in their journey.

#my art #whistold #ww sol #sol #coatimundi #anthro #furry #fantasy #ww marie #ww kora #ww ocean #ocean #marie #kora #spirits

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katlimeart · 6 months

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Made in 2023

If you've seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as NPCs from The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker

1 + 2. Mila

3. Mrs Marie

4. Rose

5. Sue-Belle

#zelda #legend of zelda #tww #ww #the wind waker #wind waker #zelda npc #npc #mila #mrs marie #windfall island #rose #sue belle #sue-belle #outset island #peach #princess peach

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seoafin · 1 year

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No I need every trigun thought you have bc wolfwood’s character is tragic like vash. This whole crew is just messed up and I need to see thoughts and feelings!!!

before anyone says anything you asked so i am answering. i talked about how insane it makes me that wolfwood is literally doomed by the narrative. both in the manga and stampede (sorry to those who think he'll make it out alive in stampede. he's dying.) our first look at him in both the manga AND stampede is seeing him carrying his own grave marker (which i could write a whole paper about just in the fact that it's literally a cross and a fucking machine gun!!!!!). it's representative of the lives he's taken and a tangible manifestation of his sins and guilt that is pointed out as extremely heavy by others. i think in the manga the only other person capable of picking the punisher up is vash??? (which makes me even more crazier bc what do you think that represents huh). the thing about wolfwood is that not only is he a character foil to vash, he completes vash in a way that only he can. only wolfwood can take the lives vash cannot in order to save people, which is something vash finally acknowledges during their fight with leonof the puppet master. i think the absolute saddest thing about wolfwood's character is that he is absolutely a caretaker at heart and violence is not at all inherent to his nature. in the orphanage he grew up in he cooked he took care of the younger children he helped the women out!!! thematically the orphanage he grew up in being the place of his last stand makes so much sense. he fights and dies to protect the orphanage and all the children (yes this includes livio). not to quote myself here but:

ww’s death doubles as salvation and tragedy. somewhere along the way of meeting vash and being witness to his unconditional love and forgiveness for humanity he found it easier to hope!!!! to begin to think that he could be saved. and that’s how he dies.

#HE'S JESUS HE'S JUDAS HE'S MARY MAGDALENE #the punisher's range.........#it's a cross it's a machine gun it punishes and later it saves....#wowowowowowowow #vash taking on the punisher after ww's death makes me want to scream and eat drywall #vash taking on the punisher after ww's death means that we come full circle.#vash takes the punisher on his back along with the burden of ww'd death and the burden of all the lives ww had taken #that burden is what leads him to kill to save livio #redemption in consciously refusing to kill is what kills ww. there is salvation in the form of death. because he was always going to die.#trigun.talk

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llovelymoonn · 1 year

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who am i?

mary oliver house of light: “maybe” (via @weltenwellen) \\ the makanai: cooking for the maiko house (via @idleminds) \\ andrew wyeth spring (1978) \\ susan sontag as consciousness is harnessed to flesh: journals and notebooks, 1964-1980: “february 17th, 1970” (via @theoptia)

support me

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brbuttons · 1 year

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WW&tCF (ft. Matilda) - FR: Class War - 'Revolting'

'The children could only take so much pressure, so much discipline. And now, as they sang and tore up his classroom, Mr. Pratt could only stare to the horror at the front of the class: Miranda, his prize student, his teacher's pet, leading the charge from the heights of his desk... And bloody Turkentine below her, with the biggest shit-eating smirk he's ever seen.'

Okay, so some context under the cut:

a roleplay started with @bunnyonacupcake lead to a side-story post-factory (same verse as Factory Rejects) that follows Turkentine's class and its ongoing rivalry with the Class for Excellence. Said class is lead by Mr. Pratt, who is the most pretentious, deplorable, winning-obsessed man you'll ever meet. He's looks and sounds like Matt Berry if Matt Berry were a John Lennon kinnie, and holds his students to the highest standards that they've all become either snobby-nosed know-it-alls, or nervous wrecks.

One of those, is an AU of @bunnyonacupcake's Miranda Mary Piker. This little school-obsessed boffin is Pratt's parrot, watchdog, and star student. But over time, with influence from others (and some visits to Bill's shop), she eventually starts to see that maybe there's more to life than just studying and rules.

And so, I was listening to 'Revolting Children' from Matilda...

Thus came this little moment, when everything comes to a finalé.

#[[ I'll try and post the pictures of Pratt at some point; he is a colossal bellend and we love him ]]#willy wonka and the chocolate factory #charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf #mr turkentine #miranda mary piker #matilda #roald dahl #art #sketch #ww: class war

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dailydccomics · 1 year

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Cheetah in Wonder Woman #798

#barbara ann minerva #barbara minerva #dc comics #cheetah #WW vol 1 #mary bromfield #dc #siegfried #wonderfam

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bunnyonacupcake · 7 months

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Here, have some writing!

This is a little mini fic I wrote a while ago Class Wars, an AU @brbuttons has within the Factory Rejects verse.

Behold, a story about Miranda Mary Piker. Daughter of the Headmaster and her teachers biggest fan. Well, until she starts to visit Bills candy shop and he reminds her she’s only 12. She’s allowed to be a kid. This here fic handles the fallout.

——

All good things must come to an end. Miranda knows this, though, she’d foolishly and ignorantly hoped it wouldn’t end so soon. It’s Friday morning as she hurriedly sweeps water over her frizzed braids, slipping her Mary Janes on as she snatches her bag and scurries out the door. Her parents as always work early, so early as to leave little Miss Piker home alone in the mornings to get off to school on her own. Normally, she leaves early enough to prowl the hallways as their unofficial hall monitor. These past few weeks however, she’s been indulging in that extra half hour of sleep Bill encouraged her to take advantage of.

“You can’t burn the candle at both ends and expect it to last long,” He’d said sagely, setting down a peppermint stick on the counter and sliding it over to her. Miranda had scoffed and adjusted her glasses but silently took the peppermint stick. He had a point. Always did.

Miranda practically skips up the steps to the school doors, slipping inside and hurrying off down the semi crowded hallways towards the pristine classroom door neatly labeled 7S. Normally, she’s the first one in, standing near the door as some mock sentry, adjusting her glasses and crowing Pratt based propaganda.

Today, the only sentry is Pratt himself.

Miranda feels something wrong the minute she’s in front of him. His neutral resting face is usually something resembling smugness or casual disinterest. Today, he stands with arms crossed, glowering. Miranda grips the straps of her school bag tightly. “Good Morning Misther Pratt.” She says obediently, staring up at him. His glowering does not falter as he looks at her, does not break out into that fake, perfect smile he usually gives her. “Miss Piker.” He says simply. He generally only uses their names if they’re in trouble. Miranda gulps.

“Come inside. I fear we have some unfortunate news to discuss. Don’t we?” He says, stepping aside. The hair on the back of her arms stands to attention as she follows his instructions, trying desperately to think what she’s done wrong. She’s done plenty wrong, she knows that, but she’s been so careful. Her parents haven’t heard any news of her spending time outside of school, her grades haven’t slipped, she’s brushed her teeth twice after every night of sneaking sweets-

Every seat is full except for her usual spot in the middle of the front row. She steps towards her desk to set down her things but Pratt clicks his tongue. She knows his little quirks well and freezes in place. Slowly sets her backpack onto the floor. Slowly turns around as Pratt closes the door. He folds his hands behind his back and strolls over to the front of the room, tutting and shaking his head. “Miranda Mary Piker. Grade A student, top of the class… beating out Gabriel Carver for the final seat in class 7S by mere points. By all intents and purposes a picture perfect student. A winner.” He says, staring down at her. Miranda instinctively folds her hands obediently in front of her, now painfully aware of every wrinkle and stray hair in her appearance. 7S children are supposed to be pristine. Perfect. Pratt sniffs and reaches behind him to take up the infamous conductor's baton that rests on the chalkboard ledge. He looks out at the rest of the children, sitting obediently in their seats. His scowl turns to a smirk.

He slowly starts to tap a rhythm onto his palm with the baton.

“And yet… recent events have proven otherwise. I have reason to suspect you, Miss Piker, have been colluding with the enemy. With Turkentine.” He says and the accusation causes a gasp to ring out across the classroom. A flush starts to creep up Miranda’s neck. She opens her mouth to defend herself but is quickly silenced with a look, Pratt slapping the baton onto the desk with a quick ‘thwap’.

“Should anyone have come to me with this information, why, I would have found it preposterous,” He says, now turning to address the room, “Insanity! But I have seen, with my own eyes, Miranda Mary Piker at the sweet shop in town. Not only engaging with its owner and Turkentine but even eating candy.” He says, his emphasis on the last few words making it sound like a criminal offense. It might as well be one in Pratt's class.

“Miss Piker, you wouldn’t happen to remember what my first words were to you all as a class?”

Miranda didn’t cry. She never cried. But being humiliated in front of the class, stared at… She feels the back of her throat tightening up.

“Um. You are our god, our… Our leader and our savior.” She says slowly, trying to take a deep breath.

Pratt purses his lips and tilts his head, feigning confusion. “No, I don’t think that’s quite right. I believe I said… Messiah. I am your messiah. Can you say that, Miss Piker?”

Miranda’s face burns. “You… are our… Methhhiah.” She mumbles quietly. Her lisp turns the word into a jumble of ‘th’ and hard ‘s’ sounds. Pratt's face contorts into a wicked smile she’s used to seeing, but never aimed at her.

“What was that, child? Say it louder.”

“Mesthiah…”

“Louder.”

“Mesthhhiah.”

The room is silent except for her and Pratt, as she tries her best to look obediently up at him. Hold eye contact Miranda. Winners don’t cry.

Pratt sniffs disinterestedly and scans the classroom once again. The faces he sees must look sufficiently scared into submission because he turns to Miranda once again. “I must remind you child that in 7S, we are here to build winners. Winners are not born. Winning is achieved through hard, diligent work.” He says. He uses one finger to push his glasses up on his nose.

“Hands on the desk.”

The air feels like it’s sucked out of the room as every child gasps and holds their breath. Hands on the desk to receive a smack is standard punishment, especially in 7S. But not once, not ever, has it been Miranda.

“No- shir, please I can explain!” She tries but flinches as he snaps his head towards her, eyes glinting behind his frames.

“I won’t tell you again child. Hands. On. The desk.” He says. His voice is cold like steel and as Miranda approaches and tries not to shiver. She puts her hands on the desk, palms up. She wants to close her eyes and hide away from it all but she knows she’s to keep her eyes open and watch. So she does.

Pratt whips his conductors baton down onto her open palms, hard. Despite her best efforts, a whimper escapes her trembling lips even as she tries to calm herself. It stings like hell and will surely bruise she thinks to herself as he whips it down again. Then a third time. Tears sting her eyes but he pulls away and sets the baton back onto the chalkboards ledge. “To your seat, Piker. Let that be a reminder of what happens when you lose focus in 7S.” He says stiffly.

Miranda nods quickly, taking a shaky breath. “Yes shir. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Now, everyone, let’s open our arithmetic books to page-“

Class passes by torturously slow. Half of the class looks at her with smug looks and the other half regards her with pity. Miranda can’t tell which she hates more. When the bell rings for lunch Miranda knows the first thing she should do is study like usual. Get cracking on her homework, forget these notions of rest, disregard her newly found routine of going out to have lunch.. Yet her feet carry her as fast as she can to the now familiar facade of Bill’s candy shop where she shoulders open the door and stares at the kindly gentleman behind the counter. He turns with that soft familiar smile that turns to a face of concern as soon as he sees Miranda's distress. “Hey now,” He says with such genuine softness it brings tears to Miranda’s eyes, “What’s going on?”

It takes a lot of deep breaths, soothing words and a peppermint stick to finally get Miranda to talk. As she does the tall girl slumps in on herself and mumbles, tucking her hands under her arms to hide evidence of her supposed failures, her usual confidence gone. When she’s done she looks up at Bill again, tears shining behind her thick glasses. He stands before her covering his mouth with one hand with a look of horror and pity.

The bell rings behind her. Miranda tenses at the sudden noise while Bill relaxes at the sight of whoevers walks in. “Mr. Turkentine.” He breathes and closes his open hand into a fist, pressing it against his mouth. Miranda jerks up and nearly chokes on her candy. “I have to go.” She says quickly, slipping off her stool. “I can’t let anyone from class see me here again! I’m already in trouble and if my parents found out, oh god-” She starts to ramble. Scrambling to gather her bag, she pauses when Bill clears his throat. “Miranda.” He says carefully.

“Show him what’s happened.” Miranda swallows and turns to face Turkentine who stands at the doorway, face screwed up with confusion at the conversation he has clearly missed. She takes a breath then holds out her hands, palm up to reveal the thin and tender line of bruising. David moves closer, dropping his bag and kneeling to meet her height.

“Christ. What did you do to get this?” He mutters.

“That’s from Mr. Pratt. He did that as punishment for talking to you.” Bill says. His usually gentle voice has an edge of hardness to it. The idea of anyone hitting a child is despicable, let alone hitting a child as punishment for talking to another person. Turkentine blinks twice at her hands. Then he looks up at Miranda in disbelief. “He did this, for talking to me?” He asks.

Miranda nods silently. He looks to Bill behind the counter.

Turkentine clenches his jaw before standing and snatching his bag back up. He turns on his heel and marches for the door. “Wait! Where are you going?” Miranda cries, running after him.

He pauses with his hand on the handle as he turns to look at her.

“I’m going to have a talk with Mr. Twat.”

#ww: class war #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #miranda mary piker #bill the candyman #mr turkentine

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