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pedropascallme · 8 months

Note

u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude

In Our Perfect Present Tense

Pairing: Jim x f!Reader

Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.

The cottage was so quiet.

You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.

And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?

No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.

You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.

But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.

You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.

It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.

In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.

And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?

No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.

Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.

Which brought you back to the present.

There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.

“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.

“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”

“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.

But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.

You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.

You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.

“C’m’in.”

You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.

“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”

“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”

“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”

“Would you feel more at home in this one?”

“Maybe…”

“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”

“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.

“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.

“Closer.” Jim whispered.

“Hm?”

“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”

“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.

“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.

“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.

“You didn’t shoot me.”

“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”

“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”

You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”

“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?

“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.

“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”

“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.

“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”

“You say that with so much confidence.”

“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”

“It is.”

“True?”

“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.

“Why did you help me?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”

“You had company.”

“I needed company I would enjoy.”

“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”

“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.

“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.

“You liked me.” Jim teased.

“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.

“How long have you been holding out on me?”

“What?”

“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”

“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”

“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”

“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.

“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”

You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”

You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.

“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.

“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.

He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”

“You—need you.”

“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”

“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”

“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.

“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”

Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”

“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.

“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.

“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”

“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.

“You love it.” He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”

He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.

“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.

“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.

“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.

You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.

“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.

“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”

You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.

“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”

“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”

“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”

“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”

“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.

“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.

“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.

You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”

“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”

“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”

“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”

“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”

“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.

“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”

“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”

“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #28 days later fanfiction #jim 28 days later #28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #28 days later jim x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut

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eldritch-spouse · 4 months

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if one of the triplets, say obie maybe, were into someone (not dating but very much wanting to), what would make the other two interested in meeting their brother’s crush? maybe obie rambled about this amazing person he met to his brothers, and something he said (or maybe how he said it?) captivated mervin and/or ludwig’s interest?

or maybe it’s just a matter of them just wanting to meet this person to make sure their brother isn’t gonna get hurt

idk if i’m making sense here hdhdd

It's a big thing for any of them to start dating or show signs of being about to enter a relationship.

Obie struggles with his self-worth and self-image issues, even if he's quite subtle about it to everyone around him. Either he doesn't have anyone who's willing to give him the time of day in a romantic regard, or he's internalized his own self-deprecating spirals to the point where hints from others go unnoticed.

Ludwig has had a very negatively marking experience regarding his past relationship, as you know, leading him to also struggle to take things normally whenever it seems something could blossom into love. It's complex and has been debated here at length, but it's safe to say considering a relationship isn't easy for him.

And Mervin typically suffers from the difficulties most prideful demons in the dating market do. Not only that, his job steals a lot of his time, he's not infallible, he comes home burnt out on occasion, and sometimes he just doesn't have the energy to try and seek someone or make himself minimally palatable to others.

There doesn't need to be an outside factor, the mere hint that one of them is seeing someone is enough to get the others to pay attention or maybe push to also meet you eventually. Some of it is morbid curiosity, some is just wanting to embarrass their sibling as one does, but of course there's always the protection motive buried there somewhere, the desire to make an evaluation.

#Mervin oc #Obie oc #Ludwig oc #3moghost

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ravenousnightwind · 6 months

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As a child I think I've always felt an awe or appreciation of death and decay. Not delighting in morbid curiosities or even because I had suicidal thoughts at one point.

Is it any wonder why I looked to Hel for guidance? Is it any wonder why I worship her along with all the other gods? She stands boldly beside Var, Keeper of Vows on my altar. Next to her father.

Yes, I appreciate death. There's an awe and subtle satisfaction to some degree. A bitter sweet. Sad, but happy at the times shared in life. Why?

Like everyone else, I am subject to the great cycle as I like to call it. We're born, we live, and then we die. No matter how chaotic it becomes, no matter who goes first, what happens or doesn't. Death is always promised in life.

For me, there's a sense of appreciation for something so grand. That a time will come when the sun will set on my life. When my fire is extinguished for good. Whether there is an after I cannot say or know. Only that day will come, either sooner or later.

So I have to make my time with what I've got. I have to make it worth it for the sake of myself. For my own enjoyment, for the enjoyment of others. Even if it's all for nothing, to live is both a struggle and an adventure. How wonderful is it to be part of the cycle of life and death? Idk..awe inspiring to me I guess. Idk, maybe thats weird to say, but it makes me feel at peace with myself and my own choices.

To continue living, to continue my journeys and struggles with every last drop of effort I have. All for the sake of life.

#heathen #pagan #magick #norse paganism #heathenry #paganism #spirit working #hel #hella #helheim #death #living life to the fullest #positive mental attitude #mental illness #adhd #autistic #depression #living #life

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guessfuckingwhatbitch · 1 year

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Interest Level

Hello, Solo Leveling fandom.

I have a fic in mind I want to write but I need to gauge interest before signing myself up for a multi-chapter fic again because I have no fucking sense of control in my life, and apparently I wanted to suffer more than I already am.

De-aged Sung JinWoo has all his grotesquely overpowered skills but is WAY too young to be trusted with them - and his sister is freaking the fuck out because here is South Korea's 10th S-Rank, National Level Hunter, and she's wildly unqualified to handle this let alone raise a child. He's aged 7 or some shit, emotionally just as stoic, but she's unawakened and can feel an unsettling power rolling off him that she can only assume is his mana.

I plan on having their mother still in the midst of Eternal Sleep (I don't really care about sticking to canon timelines unless it's a Thing people want, might have Jeju Island Arch already happen. Might give Igris the ability to talk already, maybe he can already transform and has Ruler wings but is the Shadow Monarch so the colours are Gothic As Fuck, who's to say, not me that's for sure), so she does the only reasonable thing and panic calls the Korean Hunter's Association from JinWoo's phone. She can't be trusted to keep herself alive she should NOT be responsible for the world's strongest, and she's pretty sure the shadows shouldn't be trusted either. They are Monsters - literally - and if JinWoo is meant to be among Human Society and is Expected To Act Like A Human who better to call than the people in charge of Hunters?

They managed to wrangle her brother's reputation into something respectable, and they are strong too right? So if he throws a tantrum like the kids on their street do they can find a way to contain the damage. They basically do that with the current S-Rankers! What's one more????

Anyway, Woo JinChul and Go GunHe end up with a mini Sung JinWoo on their hands, and morbid curiosity leads them to try to find out what his actual skill sets are. Like hey! What could possibly go wrong?

Here lies KHA's collective sanity - death by Actual Cryptid Sung Jin-Fucking-Woo, Child Of Shadow's.

I hope for Chaos and Chaos only.

idk if you're interested in someone writing absolute bullshit where all I can promise is Shadow Gang Shenanigans and wishing desperately that this wasn't in their paygrade KHA members just like - like this fucking post or something. If you have a terrible, wondrously horrific idea you've always wanted to see comment it. I want to see that shit

I'm casual as hell so I don't care how you want to interact with me. So if you go "Hey you weird ass bastard I wanna see Sung JinWoo absolutely demolishing S-Rank gates solo", sure thing buddy that's fine

Have a day or whatever

#sung jin woo #solo leveling #woo jin chul #go gun hee #Shadow Monarch #sung jin ah #yoo jin ho #I make no promises #But i will probably write this anyway #fuck uni amirite #*cries in pain*

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twilightarcade · 11 months

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that clone thang

waves at you. Hi welcome to the post where I answer the clone question but don't really have a fun linear way of doing it so it ends up being as many words as my brain allows

[really fucking long warning]

anyways this question is reallyreally interesting and actually something I never think about despite the nature of it?? Like it's sorta one of those things that gets joked about or referenced a bunch but it's never actively on my mind. I think one of the major decision points for me would be whether they have the same memories as me, the same feelings, the same thought process, etc or if they're just some sorta guy that looks like me. I'm assuming it's the first but the latter is. Interesting at the least.

I said last time I would kill them which. Isn't anything I could morally justify in any way whatsoever. It's not from a place of fear or hate towards that guy in particular. It's not like "oh no I don't want a clone what time to kill him" it's more like,, yk. I think I would have more difficulty killing an exact clone of me, memories and all because that's such a dick thing to do?? I would hate to die so. They would presumably hate to die.? But there's also that mutual. Morbid curiosity I suppose. WHICH this whole thing is really generally dark and not on theme with this blog in general I guess but idk suck it up or whatever for now.

I would hate to kill someone in general actually, I don't condone murder, shockingly enough. Which this whole. Whatever. Opens up an argument about how I don't have the,, right? To kill my clone. Which I don't. I think he knows that though. I also know that. If we got into a? Legitimate fight. I don't know who would win. Obviously yes I should say me because I'm so cool and the original but that just goes back to the superiority thing don't you think? We're literally the same person and most of my actions outlined here is just some sorta. Mean.

Famously, I am not a fighter, not according to my dad at least. But that's just because I'm not? Running around and getting into fights?? I think if I jumped myself I could kill him. Or even just. Had a knife. I don't think we would fight though,? I think us killing each other or one of us could be arranged relatively peacefully. If that makes any sense.

I think if they were just an empty shell, some sorta guy that I don't know inhabiting my form, I would kill them. Without much thought behind it. Not out of hate for them, more out of hate for myself

back to less. Murderous thoughts, I think it would be incredibly comforting having someone I could like. Talk to. Assuming it's just. Me but not me. I could talk to them about absolutely anything! And they would get it! They would nod their heads and go mhm I know what you're talking about. I think in that respect we could be really good friends but that's not even really... friendship,? And even in terms of being comforting that's really limited because it's still just. Me. I'm still stuck with myself even if he does happen to be outside of my own mind. And I hate it and hate it and hate how as I'm going over all this I'm sitting here thinking "he would get it" because he's me!!! Of course he would get it.! Out of everyone on the goddamn earth if anyone was to get if of COURSE it would be myself!!! And it sickens me because there's still no further outside connection. I can talk to myself all day long but in the end does that really get me anywhere?? Does anything get resolved??? Like the whole thing with therapists and such is that you get an outside perspective on your problems or whatever and that's an INCREDIBLY inside perspective. i don't know.

getting away from that trainwreck because I'm trying oh so hard to get away from negatives here I think if like. I ignored all of that. We could be good friends. Maybe. I sort of hate the idea of having like? A reflection of myself? Some Guy that's not me yet still me. But in this ideal imaginative world, we could be good friends. We could bring each other up and all the good stuff. But at the end of the day I can't really escape the fact that.. it's me...?

I don't think I could live with that. I think we should walk away and never talk to each other again. I think the fact that there's some guy who's just. Me. Out there, somewhere would haunt me and eat away at me. In the perfect world we would be great friends! Do all that stereotypical "I have a clone time to make them do work for me" type stuff but in a loving caring relationship type way! But it's not really a perfect world and I'm not really a perfect person either and I would kill some guy that looks like myself just for the hell of it because I'm a dick I guess?????? I hate it and I'm a terrible person for it and i would not admit this in a court of law but oh my god!!!! I WISH I could just sum it up to one of the the generic responses but I CANT. I want me dead and I think I would also want me dead and it's some sorta terrible cycle till someone dies. Maybe it would be fine. Maybe I'm over thinking it. Maybe he wouldnt think too hard about it. But since he's me it probably would.? I sure would over think the implications of me being a clone of someone just look at me now! Documenting my delusions online. In a tumblr dot com post. We would be great friends if not for the horrors. I think we should vivisect each other.

#wordstag #thoughtstag #this is getting posted and finished once I get too tired to think better of it. btw.#god you have no fucking idea!!!!! I want that guy dead either for my entertainment of so I can be at peace but that's just a dick move???#Hey guy who's literally me! What if I killed you!#THATS NOT NICE. AND I HATE IT #I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT #AND IM SURE IT WOULD THINK THE SAME THING?? BECAUSE HES ME. AND I HATE THAT #I HATE HOW WE BOTH WOULD HATE IT. I HATE HOW WE'RE BOTH THE SAME #ITS TERRIBLE AND WOULD EAT AWAY AT ME HORRIBLY UNTIL ONE OF US DIED. OR BOTH OF US.#AND I CANT SAY I WOULD BE THE ONE TO KILL???? THE ONLY ADVANTAGE THAT I HAVE HERE IS KNOWLEDGE #KNOWLEDGE THAT HE IS DEPRIVED FROM ME. KNOWLEDGE THAT IT IS JUST LIKE ME. BEYOND LOOKS.#maybe he would find out that he's deprived from me.? Maybe it would hate me for that.#I donr know if I would hate someone for that. I guess it would feel kind of empty.#like this entire existence that you think you've built up for yourself was just. What. Stolen.?#I don't think I would hate the people for doing it particularly. I guess I can understand why one would want to #but I would. Lose something.#I don't know how that would manifest. Some sorta anger I guess #or just sheer emptiness #I can't imagine being nothing #like? You're just some sorta what. Worthless pawn?#no one cares for your existence because you aren't even an original thought in this universe #your whole existence is based off the fact that there's this other guy who is you #but they're the cooler one #they get to call all the shots #they don't CARE how you feel about it you were brought there against your will and they only way to get out of it is to die. otherwise #you're stuck with that.#I think that in of itself would kill me #I'm just going to. Stop typing #I am FINE thanks for asking. I made fried rice for breakfast today. It was too wet. I can't flip fried eggs. The tag limit is 30.

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turbulentscrawl · 5 months

Text

Hello there! I hope you’re doing well! I love your writing your are literally sustaining the entire idv fandom rn skcbsnsnd. I would like to request a match-up!

My name is Nico and I am a 21 year old female (she/her maybe they if i’m feeling spunky) bisexy (bisexual). ehmmmm. Idk what to say already LOL. uh I believe i am infp and 4w5 I am a scorpio rising and sun and capricorn moon. I personally think that my duality is silly, weird, kinda naive tbh, cute, chill, friendly, maybe a bit talkative? but im also very introspective, melancholic, wise, quiet, perceptive, thoughtful. i can be quiet insecure/self-deprecating/self-critical, i have a hard time being vulnurable and usually help others without allowing myself to be helped. i’m stubborn in that way and like to be independent and tough even though i crave being cared for lol. i am very passionate and empathetic and i have very strong intuition although i tend to ignore it in favor of “logic” and my attempts to feel in control. i am ambitious and always come up with grand ideas in my head and hyperfixate on them and ultimately become disappointed when i can’t bring it to fruition because it’s too ambitious. however that has also made me resourceful because i will find work arounds to make my ideas possible, even if it’s not how i originally planned.

i am a sort of solitary creature, and i know how to be my own best friend and to enjoy my own company, not having grown up with lots of friends. i didn’t used to go out much and i used to think i was very quiet and unsociable but after going out a bit more i have discovered that i can actually be a bit of a social butterfly, and it comes more naturally than i previously thought, although it makes sense considering i could talk to anyone and was a great leader/public speaker as a child. (and then anxiety/depression hit and i retreated into a shell as a teen.)

I used to say my favourite colour was green because I really like it, but then I thought it was grey because that is the colour i perceive myself as. but lately i have began thinking it might be red as that is what i have always been drawn to, regardless of what i think. idk why but it felt important to mention that.

anywhoo. my hobbies are playing any and all video games, watching horror movies, playing board games/card games, doing puzzles/puzzle books (crosswords, sudoku, word search), playing piano, singing. i love antiques and i love buying them because they are practical and beautiful and often much sturdier and long lasting than more modern things (they just ain’t built to last anymore) and i believe that they have so much character and soul and it’s tragic that there is a lost art in craftsmanship of furniture and clothing and like. shoes! and pens and clocks and everything! so i like to give those old beauties a new home where i can actually USE them as well as admire them.

i also love singing i have been told im good at singing but honestly i think im only mediocre. i sing in choir and i would honestly love to be an opera singer haha even though that might seem silly. i would love to be in a band too and i genuinely have been attempting to pursue that. oh i also study biochemistry in university i am suffering but it is interesting and i have always had an innate curiosity about things. i was a very dark but bright and curious child. i was fascinated by death and other things as a kid, but i never found it morbid it was just interesting to me.

i love science and random fun facts but i also love tarot and astrology (even though i barely know anything about it) and i am interested occultism and metaphysics and would love to know more about it because i don’t believe science and “magic” kind of stuff is mutually exclusive.

i feel like i am writing too much but you said write a lot so 😭 i enjoy talking abt myself as im sure most people do but i always feel bad for it lol. uhmm i do like writing and i used to do it a lot but ive been struggling with it lately. i also love lots of different types of “aesthetics” i suppose, such as dark academia/victoria /gothic/antique but also cottage core/witchy/nature/kinda hippy forest lady but also grunge/punk/garage rock/seattle in the 90s but also 70s and 80s style but also 2000s but i also sometimes enjoy modern fashion. idk im a real mixed bag but i love it i mean there are just so many things to love in the world. i am a very sleepy gal too i mean some people wake up early to be a hater but i wake up early so i can have time to go back to sleep.

i cant really think of much else. it’s hard to perceive yourself ya know, but hopefully there is enough information there for you and i sincerely apologise if it is too much!! thank you very much for your consideration and i hope you truly have a wonderful day. sending you good vibes full of love mwuah <333333 :3

oh i also really love sharks and foxes and bears and bats and squids. and cats. and silly little shrimps and trilobytes. and pterodactyls. OK WNOUGH-

-------

Yes I love lots and lots of info 👀

I ship you with Fiona Gilman!

-From how you write and what you’ve described, I’m getting a sense that you strive for a strong identity, but both struggle with and respect the complexity of trying to achieve that. Due to the nature of her worship, Fiona finds it attractive when people accept the intricacies of life. Things are rarely easy to pin down, life is fluid, people included, and she thinks it takes great wisdom to understand that.

-She shares your curiosity for life and the universe, and since your expertise seem to be so different, teaching one another is a great excuse to spend time together. ;) Unfortunately, there are some things in relation to the occult and her worship that she simply cannot share. It’s for your safety, as much as she trusts your ability to comprehend things that would break others…better safe than sorry.

-Fiona is an ambivert. She’s good with socializing, but she also likes equal time to have quiet time. Since you’re still getting the feel for these things, she’s fine letting you take the lead on going out or staying in. If you need space away from her? That’s fine too, there’s plenty of things she can busy herself with in the meantime.

-She’s both persuasive and a little sneaky, and will take steps to assist you in getting better at accepting help. If she has to, and if your workload is too big, she will go behind your back to help with a few things. Nothing major, partially because she feels bad and partially because she hopes you won’t notice, but she can’t just do nothing when she feels like you’re sinking.

-She’s not much of a nap-taker, but as long as she’s not busy with something she does like to offer you her lap as a pillow.

Runner Up: Grace

#idv matchup #turbulentscrawl

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oodlyenough · 1 year

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I kind of took the Ellie killing the infected scene to be about her undeveloped grief and rage relating to Riley's death. Like maybe it was an infected that looked similar to the one that killed Riley/bit her and that was why she looked so angry right before she killed it - a bit similar to Joel's PTSD with the soldier. Less sure about the carving an eyebrow into the thing lol. Unless maybe that's also something Riley did/they joked about, and it's kind of a morbid fasination. idk. That's all what I'm hoping anyway, that it's related to Ellie's backstory. Otherwise it's just... odd if it doesn't come back again.

Oops I missed this ask earlier!

Going to add these replies from @quantumtardis too:

These are reasonable interpretations to me, and they make sense, but I have to admit I didn't get any of them from the scene itself, lol... Not to say you guys are wrong, just the scene didn't really work for me.

The "checking to see how human they are - oh, mostly mushroom" is the most interesting/believable angle to me. In the game, Ellie eventually has dialogue about how the infected aren't people, even if they look like it. I would consider that a fairly important beat for her, so I wouldn't mind if they're building towards that kind of conclusion.

I guess how I would've expected the scene to go would be Ellie working up the nerve to approach it, out of curiosity, and then working up the nerve to kill it, kind of like practice, and maybe a bit of catharsis. It was the forehead slice that threw me and changed the vibe of the scene in a way I didn't anticipate.

#anon #quantumtardis #you've got questions we've got answers #the last of us hbo

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gentlemancrow · 3 years

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idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #Fan fic #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #Fricklefracklefloof

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riverswater · 3 years

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I'm sorry you're not having fun! Here are some silly questions to help you pass the time.

1- which of the 1D boys would you want helping you with a DYI/crafting project?

2- if you had to spend one week living the life of one of the boys (on their shoes, so to speak), who would you pick? All the ups and downs of it

3- One ticket for a One Direction reunion show, or ticket/transport to follow Louis during his whole tour?

None of this to be taken too seriously :p

BELLS!!!!!!! THIS is aaaaah wonderful thank youuuuu so much aaa 💓💓💓

1) ok so the obvious answer for this would be Zayn?? I could get him interested in anything, cross stitch/paint/gardening/ceramics I think he'd be down for anything 🤔 but I also think he'd get soooo focused on the task it'd be like I'd be on my own?? Gksnfksk idk of this makes sense!! He's a focused lad I respect it!!!!!! Idk I feel like Niall would be hilarious to have bc he'd TRYYYY but idk how far he would go kfhskgjs I think Liam would try a little too hard like WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE FUN ITS ALRIGHT IF THINGS AREN'T PERFECT 😭 fkshgkdk

2) omg okay. I'm a bit tipsy but. Maybe I'd like to be Liam just to ignore people and have a nice bath all day long. Idk I feel like he doesn't do these things for himself BUT HE SHOULD YOU KNOW. HE should have funnn relax a littleeee and idk Harry is way too busy. Louis would be interesting bc I'd LOVE TO KNOW WHAT HE IS DOING. WHERE IS HE. I can't be Zayn i can't look after all those animals and wake up at 5 am. I can cuddle with cows all day long but having to do the actual work? Nah. And Niall idk what he's up to lately but I can't do golf I get angry thinking about it. Gksbfks this answer is sooo superficial I'm sorry <3 ok but seriously maybe Zayn would be first on the list (maybe we body swap at 9 am who knows) and Harry the worst one (I don't wanna go stuff i get tired just looking at him)

3) okay. So. Seriously speaking Louis all the way. But maybe my anthropological morbid curiosity about the wackass relationships that there are between those 5 fuckheads would win over anything. I'm fascinated. I'd love to watch them trying to interact. Trying to make up an actual show. The small talks omg. This isn't even a "I miss them" it's more "oh I wanna study their brains" you knowwww??? like on a serious level? Louis. On a "i wanna write several academic articles about how fallen-out-childhood-best-friends"? The 5 dickheads all day. Glsjflsk

Thank you so muuuuch for sending me these I HAD LOADS OF FUN 💓💓💓💓💓💓💓 I hope everything is understandable and also that you're having the besttttt Friday niiiiigjt 🌸💗🌼💘 besitos!!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

#Thank youuuuu #I hope you're having fun 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸#Mwah #alcohol mention #Ltnekgek to be sure!!!!#Bells #Asks

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thatsinterestingveryinteresting · 4 years

Text

k so lets go over each side’s function.

it’s nice to clear things up so y’all can start theorizing on the orange side bc it literally takes me weeks to put together a metaphorical and physical puzzle

k so i will add on as i rewatch episodes over the next few days but please tell me to add on if i miss any. head canon counts as well and will be removed if another side exemplifies the function canonically

ok lets go

Logan

logic

planning

intelligence

facts

academics

right hand

inquisitive

appreciation for learning

left brain bean

language

memory but not like nostalgia cause patton does that

deductive reasoning

literally the only brain cell ( most of the time. other times virg or janus has it)

Roman

creativity

romance

love

passion

femininity

could be gayer

left hand

fanciful boi

desires

pride

confidence/ego

curiosity

right brain child

imagination

Patton

morality

right and wrong

parental figure

emotions

memories (specifically nostalgic logan deals with dates, times, etc.)

dad jokes

inner child

empathy

decisions (shared w virg)

religion

selflessness

impulsiveness

Virgil

anxiety

fears

vigilance

dare i say (formerly?) paranoia

caution

honestly thomas’ hidden emo

i would say procrastination but that would make virg anxious idk

“negative” mental health?

self deprecation

memory (to an extent)

self awareness

decisions (shared w pat)

common sense (sometimes)

fight or flight

instinct (survival ig)

Janus

deception

lies basically

capacity to lie (cause character thomas blocked these i

self preservation

inner mom friend saying you need to take care of yourself

denial

possibly the side that controls the barriers

embarassment maybe

hidden desires

selfishness

Remus

intrusive thoughts

“bad” creativity

morbid thoughts

envy?? jealousy even?

inner void kind of thing possible TW: (“hey you could literally end up driving off this bridge” “you could literally stab someone right now” that kind of thing but it keeps you safe and is just an indirect warning)

literally no filter

imagination

Orange (yet to be revealed)

possibilities-

procrastination

anger

laziness

jealousy

self control/control

guilt

apathy

leslie odom jr.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides headcanon #ts sides #ts remus #ts roman #ts virgil #ts janus #ts patton #ts logan #ts spoilers

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honourablejester · 3 years

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Fantasy, Horror and the Intangible

I’ve been thinking a bit lately about why I like some stripes of horror/fantasy and less others. Actually, I’ve mostly been thinking about how I like dark fantasy, but I like dark fantasy mostly in the sense of ‘fantasy crossed with gothic and/or cosmic horror’ not ‘fantasy but everything is horrible and ultimately soul-crushing’, like I want ghosts and eldritch star gods, not grimdark ‘everyone is a terrible person and morality is meaningless’ bullshit.

Sorry. That was strongly phrased. But. I grew up in the 90s. I’m a little tired of grimdark.

And I think when I look at it a bit, it comes back to a basic … not ‘problem’, maybe, but divide, with a lot of fiction. I think it does probably come back, in a large sense, to the ‘realism’ debate. What I mean is, I’m getting a sense with a lot of fiction that it wants sort of … tangible conflicts? Tangible threats, tangible moralities, tangible consequences. Physically grounded things. There’s a feeling I get that fiction right now doesn’t like a lot of the more … ambiguous or delicate concepts or emotions.

Okay. Pulling back a bit. Here are a few subgenres that I really, really like:

gothic horror

cosmic horror

fairytales

paranormal investigation

There are others, obviously, I like a lot of things (sci-fi, most notably), but these are the ones I’ve been circling lately. Because they have a thread of something in common, and something that’s actually increasingly hard to find: intangibility. Uncertainty. Also: wonder. Awe. Curiosity. Apprehension. Terror. Insanity.

They’re genres that play a lot with non-physical threats and promises, essentially. With emotions to do with things that aren’t here yet, or things that may not be real, or things that are felt but not seen. They have consequences that are often not merely fatal or unfatal. Costs in cosmic horror, gothic horror, fairytales, paranormal stories, and even mystery stories are often more on the abstract end: you lose your sanity, your humanity, your freedom, your believability, your reputation.

They’re stories that famously rely on emotions. On atmosphere. On dread, enchantment, curiosity. People don’t usually have powers, they have feelings. They sense things that other people can’t sense. They see things that other people can’t see.

There’s magic in all of them. There’s another world layered over the base one, secrets that most people can’t see. There’s wonder. Whimsy. Secrets. Arcane rules. Mysteries.

And then, because that other world often contains monsters, there’s fear. Apprehension. Terror. Dread. Not just that you might die, but that you might in some way lose yourself.

I think another thing I’m skirting around is that they’re genres focused on exploration rather than combat necessarily. Sure, you might slay the werewolf eventually, or shotgun some cultists in the face, but the combat usually isn’t the point. The tragedy of the werewolf is the person who lost their humanity to it. The terror of cosmic horror is that the cosmic entity that spawned said cult is likely fundamentally unbothered by losing it. These are stories with the tangible powers of combat are fundamentally lessened, because the true wonder is exploration and the true terror is something that all the shotguns in the world can’t stop.

I remember leaving a prompt on a comm once, I can’t remember for what, and what I wanted was a low-level ESP-type paranormal story. With psychics sensing things and investigating. What I got was X-men level ‘Professor X fights baddies’. Which is … I feel like a lot of fiction nowadays defaults onto ‘have powers, fight baddies’. Which! There is nothing wrong with! Sometimes I very much want that! But not in that instance. I wanted a lower-key story where people felt things.

(I did thank them anyway, I did enjoy the story, it just … didn’t quite hit what I wanted)

IDK, I just feel like, maybe as a consequence or just co-morbid with the massive rise of things like the superhero genre and the oddly non-conflicting, despite all logic, ‘realism in fantasy’ type debates, a lot of fiction right now is going out of its way to feel a) grounded in physical reality and b) action-oriented. Threats are things you can stab. Horror is man’s general inhumanity to man. Powers are things you can fight with. Your righteousness is shown by who you punch in the face.

I miss the less tangible emotions of fairytales and gothic horror. Those two particularly. The wonder and mystery of magic, the terror and apprehension of the unseen. Where you’re guided by exploration, by feeling, by sensing things. Where the threat is not necessarily to life-and-limb, but to the soul, the humanity, the sanity. Where righteousness is resisting your own corruption, not punishing someone else’s.

(Sidenote here on Dracula: I feel there’s a thing here with Mina Harker vs Lucy Westenra a bit, in that Lucy was unmarried when she died, and fell to corruption, while Mina, the relatively ‘sinful’ woman who had a husband and presumably had relations with him, began to be transformed but spent the whole latter half of the book staunchly resisting it and standing beside Van Helsing – granted, though, there are practical considerations in that no one knew what the fuck was going on with Lucy so they just didn’t know enough to save her in time, while with Mina everyone, including her, knew what was up and what she has to fight – anyway, sidenote ended)

I just want more stories with the more delicate and intangible sorts of feelings, I guess. Wonder. Particularly wonder. Seeing things that are not necessarily useable but still magical. And apprehension. Terror. On the darker end of things. Not just fear for your life or cynicism or despair, but the creeping fear and atmosphere you get when you don’t know what’s happening. Where there are unseen things happening, and you’re worried not for your life but for your sanity and possibly for your humanity. Where you fear not being killed but being changed. (Or, on the flipside, where you hope to be changed, transformed, become the fairy princess you secretly want to be)

I grew up on the likes of The Last Unicorn. The Neverending Story. Dracula. Ghost stories. Fairy stories. Stories where you can just feel something else beyond the bounds of what you know. Where the price of love is regret, where the price of power is humanity, where the cost of evil is haunting and insanity. I grew up into mystery, into cosmic horror, into fantasy. I like the intangible. I like the feeling of things out there that I can feel but not know. I like thrill of fear from a good haunted atmosphere, from the knowledge of threats that I can’t actually touch. I like the vast feeling of cosmic horror, of things out there that are just too big to comprehend, let alone fight. Not because I like despair (I very much do not), but because I like the feeling of exploration, that there is more in the world than we can understand (yet) and that we might still be willing to take the risk to try. (Usually in cosmic horror this results in gibbering, but hey, at least we’re still trying)

I like stories where the solutions are also equally intangible. You learn enough about the ghost to lay them to rest. You investigate the cult and find out how the seal the cosmic gate. You win through exploration, through engagement with the emotions, not always through physical force, even if that does also have its place with, say, staking the vampire through the heart. Stories where victory is resisting corruption, absolving old sins, discovering new worlds, rebuilding new worlds through just your wishes and dreams and willingness to hope (hi, Neverending Story, how are you!)

Also, I love the aesthetic. The atmosphere. The feeling. Wonder and intrigue and apprehension and curiosity. Imagery. The spooky castle on the cliff, the faun leading you down into a world of wonders. The joy of magic, the terror of the unknown.

I don’t know what my point even is here, I’ll be honest. I just want more feelings and less punching, I guess. More engagement, more exploration, more mystery. Less ‘sort out the rules and punch the villain in the face’. Less grimdark, more wonder and terror. More magic. More unknown.

More acknowledgement that … You don’t need to be able to fight everything you come across. Sometimes you just need to experience it.

And survive it, yes, hopefully. But you get what I mean.

Embrace the intangible some more. Ambiguity and intangibility are not crimes. You don’t always need to give the answers, you don’t have to ground everything in a punchable reality, you just need to give people a feeling. An experience. An emotion.

And not even necessarily a good one, though I will say again that grimdark is a bit tired, I feel, probably, go a bit easy on the crushing despair maybe? But that aside.

Magic good. Terror good. Go explore.

(I am aware that there are current examples of all of these, by the by, thank you Guillermo del Toro for always leaning into the spooky and delicate, and I’m happy to take recs. I’m mostly just talking about a general feeling I’m getting about the state of the genre fiction at the minute)

#meta #genre fiction #horror #fantasy #fairytales #i like the less than tangible #wonder and terror #less physical concerns #mostly i'm rambling

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tonyglowheart · 3 years

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Trying to semi-organize my thoughts on what exactly I am wanting out of spn fic and hm let's see. If I remember this post in the future, I may update it as I think of/on things and use this for reference so I, also, don't forget lol

Okay so, wants/likes:

Cas prominent. He is my, as I believe the kpop kids say, bias, so he is kind of non-negotiable. Sorry I am just not interested in fics where he is not prominent

Destiel not required but a good plus. Slight preference for intricate courtship rituals over ones where they figure things out ridiculously easy, unless it is established relationship. If the revelation comes too quick and easy then I get taken out of the moment :')

Optional: Angels treating Cas like their baby brother :3 Cas can be somewhat put out by it or not. Actually maybe bonus if he IS, bc they are all angels of the lord and relative by rank and experience, And Yet [whoever] just cannot help but be *points* Baby

canonverse is plus. canon divergence is okay but idk how close to canon I'm looking for, if it's too close to an episode rewrite I may not be into that either

casefics are cool. If it's got that canon-typical vaguely racist sht then pls warn me going in 😔

Found family. Family don't end in blood!!! Spn may forget this but I never will!!!

Any exploration of the whole fucky destiel thematic dichotomies, the whole free will vs destiny shit, stuff like words of prophets are written on subway walls, like.. idk, something that is intricate-rituals-gay and also makes me think of the philosophy of thehuman condition

corollary: slow burns ig?? or like mutual pining? canon typical thinking they are not worthy or that it is something they cannot have? canon typical did not realize until later but even then they have their individual canon-typical reasons for not acting on it, until they do bc it's fic so they can get together for realsies?

trope: Cas and/or Destiel being parents. I read one recently where it was like single dad Cas (to Claire and Jack) and then Dean came (back) into his life recently and I rly liked it

AUs are fine but highly subject to mood so we'll see. I did read a Star Trek-y AU I liked

I'm down for a lot of various other kinds of plot tropes and stuff, tho I want stuff that's more character and plot and less, like, pwp or fuck or die or that kinda thing

trope: curses maybe? I've found a couple curse-focused fics which were interesting

trope: Hurt/Comfort of the Cas whump kind but not necessarily have to be just Cas. But like.. u know when Uriel is beating him up and he looks all bloody and beautiful, or when he flexes his sexy angel powers and transports the Winchesters to the past but then collapses bc he overtaxed himself, or when he had that blanket on when he was suffering from the attack dog spell.... yeah,,,

trope: Anything with like the Winchesters caring about and caring for Cas. I just rly like Cas being taken care of :') pls wrap him in a blanket and pat his shoulder brusque-softly in ur emotionally repressed way Dean

bottom line my emphasis tends to be more on character and plot. I can't do plot without character, the relationships - whether ship or gen - are important to my enjoyment of a fic. I can sit thru a lot if the characters/character dynamics are good and chewy lmao like u can rly sink ur teeth into it

Bonus features:

eldritch horror angels are a bonus. Give me unfathomable trueform angels, I feel like I don't see that enough

wings* but.... caveat I like my spn wings more metaphysical than literal unless they're literal for a point, but this isn't set in stone either. I'm just... slightly tired of the physicality of the wings I guess. Like it's not the physicality that's the issue, ig, but when it's not treated as metaphysical (as well)

wouldn't mind some good endverse fics to chew on altho that might also make me sad

Cas being cute, a la crazy!Cas (who is.... so soft.... his innocence.. *clutches chest*) or like when Cas and Dean went to talk to that police guy and Cas was like you tell them it's angels and demons warring and he will tell you what he knows, or when Cas was like I'm gonna become a hunter :3, or interrogating the cat, or this is his serious face, yes

Powerful af Cas?? I miss season 4/5 Cas, when he was powerful and self-assured and wasn't "mentally deficient puppy" as Metatron meanly put it Cas. I feel like we get less of that as the seasons go on... I miss Cas being powerful and exuding energy that I'm sure is what had ppl assigning him as top energy. Like yes flex ur sexy sexy angel powers pls. There's one ep where my notes just say "ANGEL SMITE ANGEL SMITE / HEAAALING." Season 6 Cas where he is more out of touch with humanity and more brusque was also intriguing even tho he was like that bc of extenuating circumstances. But him flexing his sexy angel powers sure was sexy

Do not wants :(

Endgame human!Cas. Sorry I like short-lived Cassidy am more into feathered Cas than human!Cas. endgame human!Cas just isn't a good solution/happy ending to me, I don't think Cas needs to change to be able to live happily, and also I like to chew on the like philosophical underpinnings of an immortal/mortal pairing if that does get called into question lol

Human AU* but like asterisk bc I will take human AU if the plot is compelling and/or the characterization still manages to capture that je nais se quoi of canonverse. If they are, like, middle age dads being domestic, as an example, tho, then I can probs do that, I just like.. have limited capacity for career-based AUs for the sake of it, if that makes sense... But character/character dynamics trumps all, like I said lmao.. I've sat thru scenarios/setups that lowkey dealt me psychic damage bc of the nature of the set dressing, bc I checked it out out of morbid curiosity but the way they did the characterization ended up working for me

A/B/O - I am not seeking A/B/O at the moment

Hurt no Comfort - it would make me too sad :(

fics that treat angels like literal physical feathered beings. Idk I just like... want the whole angel thing to be treated more metaphysically. They are multidimensional wavelengths of celestial intent in holy corporate/business attire visages but they are still very much multidimensional wavelengths of celestial intent the ballpark size of our Chrysler building. If the wings are treated too literally I find I start getting bored, ironically. This is ironic bc I'm a slut for wingfic. But with spn I find that a conventional kind of wingfic/angel conception where the wings are just limbs with maybe some slight handwaved dimension-shifting stowing is.. slightly passe for my tastes. Unless it's like a forced manifestation or sth. Just like.. get the metaphysics involved, tie it to angelic grace. Something. Make is racy. But not too racy, the whole wings-as-erogenous-zones thing I'm a bit over too, xenobiology to humans would just be biology to these beings, it doesn't make sense to me to be like "oh they have a tail and it's EXTRA sensitive," like are you suggesting your arm/armpit is an extra special species-typical erogenous zone too?

deaging unless it ties to some other kinda plotty deal somehow ig? Like... I got invested in this fandom for them as they are now I'm not too interesting in unseasoned nibling vers

this maybe goes with the human aus tho that's a slight asterisk but hard line no high school aus. pls I cannot take the psychic damage that would deal to me personal

I have no conclusion even tho I feel like I need one. here's wonderwall? ig I can stumble around looking for reclists and see if anything sticks out, trawling thru tags so far has been a mixed bag

Anyway haha lol, stand-up-style-tone I mean I'm not asking for a lot amirite. Just a nebulously specific set of intricate rituals wrapped around a plot and also found family or something, like you know, just a trifling

#supernatural cw #I had a tag for things like this before maybe #idk what #personal reference #hope I remember that in the future lmao...#long post

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 260: GOD IS A WOMAN

Previously on BnHA: Virtually all of the known pro heroes in existence split into two big groups (each with its own weenie hut junior subgroup) to launch a massive surprise attack on the League of Pliff. Endeavor’s group, in Jakku, stormed the hospital where Ujiko works, which amazingly seemed to catch him completely off guard, so I guess we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile off in the woods somewhere, Midnight’s group (ostensibly this is Edgeshot’s group, but I call it like I see it guys) prepared to attack the villains’ main HQ at the Overlook Hotel, while my infant son Kaminari Denki complained too loudly about being stuck on the front lines. Meanwhile the rest of 1-A (sans Tokoyami) is either tucked away safe in the woods, or perched just outside of Jakku ready to begin the citizen evacuation. I suggest that everyone enjoy this brief period where the good guys appear to be safe and victorious while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: MIRUKO!!! Okay lol. A lot happens in this chapter. Aizawa uses his quirk on Ujiko, who immediately starts melting away into a crispy-fried old man because apparently this motherfucker had the immortality quirk all along. And then Mic and Aizawa yell at him, and the other doctors are all “pardon us but what the fuck” and the heroes are all “NO TIME TO TALK, HE’S EVIL” and then we find out that Ujiko is a fucking Twice clone, so that’s just great. And the real Ujiko is of course down in the basement, along with LORD EVEN KNOWS HOW MANY HIGH END NOUMUS, and for a moment it honest to god looks like we’re screwed. But then MIRUKO, YOUR NEW FAVORITE CHARACTER, KICKS DOWN ALL THE FREAKING DOORS AND FLATTENS POOR JOHN-KUN AND IS ALL “BOOM, YOU LOOKING FOR THIS?”, and let me tell you guys, FOR A MOMENT I SAW TRUTH. Anyway so next chapter she’s probably going to have to fight zombie Jeanist or something, but for now? Life is good. REMEMBER THIS DAY.

so just like last week, before I get started I’m gonna do a quick follow-up on chapter 259. really, Viz’s version wasn’t all that different from the fan scanlation this time around, so this will mostly just be reactions to things I didn’t notice and that other people pointed out

first off, a couple people mentioned that the thing Mic is holding up appears to be some kind of throat spray. which seems to track, so I’ll just say again that I have a very morbid curiosity about whether or not Mic could actually kill someone with his quirk. and this curiosity has only intensified since my google search

so yeah. will we ever get to see something like this?? STAY TUNED

also, I got a couple of conflicting answers about Naomasa’s quirk. someone said his quirk was lie-detecting, but another person said that’s actually his sister’s (LOL I HAD NO IDEA THERE WAS A NAOSIS, I REALLY SHOULD JUST READ VIGILANTES) quirk. and I never actually followed up on that lol sooooo. let me just do that real quick

okay so he doesn’t have a quirk listed on the wiki, but it says that his codename (??) is “True Man.” so that does seem to imply that his quirk is similar if not identical to his sister’s quirk, which is indeed a truth quirk (Polygraph). although the “she can’t detect a lie if the person is relaxed” seems to call this ability into doubt a bit. still pretty powerful though I guess

moving on now, last but not least let’s discuss the most relevant and controversial thing that happened this past week. (incidentally, I added an ETA about this to the previous chapter recap a couple hours after I first posted it, so in case you don’t what the asks below are referring to, it’s that.)

so... I have mixed feelings about this. thing is, after reading up on it, it seems like the fans who were most upset were those from China, Korea, etc., which is actually completely understandable given the historical context. Japan doesn’t exactly have a great track record with being sensitive about all of the horrific shit their military got up to during WWII, so while I still believe that Horikoshi wasn’t intending to be disrespectful, I can understand them not being inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt

that being said, I keep thinking about this tweet by aitaikimochi:

and despite what Horikoshi said in his apology tweets (about how he didn’t intend for the name to be associated with that particular historical connection), I still can’t help but think that he absolutely did intend to reference Unit 731, with the intent of (a) linking it to this vile, disgusting piece of shit character as a commentary, and (b) perhaps subtly pushing some of his Japanese readers who have never heard about this particular part of history to learn more about it. like, I know he offered up some dubious explanation about it being a reference to Ujiko’s rotund nature, but that seems really iffy to me tbh. that’s one hell of a coincidence if that’s really the case. idk

and you know what else -- and here’s where I’m really whipping out the conspiracy goggles -- I also can’t help but suspect that the decision to go back and change the name in the volume release is coming more from Shueisha (who I half-suspect weren’t themselves aware of the “maruta” name association until this blew up) than from him. because unfortunately this seems to be the standard Japanese PR response any time this subject comes up -- offer a vague statement of regret, and immediately proceed to wipe any mention of the subject from existence. because god forbid people actually talk about this or acknowledge that it happened

and so ultimately, while I do empathize with those who were upset by the name, I think it’s unfortunate that this is just getting swept back under the rug so quickly and will no doubt be forgotten about within a couple of months, because my gut feeling is that Shueisha was ultimately more concerned about what their Japanese readership might think about the controversy than what the Chinese and Korean fans thought. I could be wrong about that, and maybe also giving Horikoshi too much benefit of the doubt, but meh :/

anyway! so now that we’ve gotten that topic out of the way, let’s see how many pages it will take before the heroes finally realize just how much of an “oh fuck” situation they’ve gotten themselves into!

so the cover page is Hawks and Endeavor, but more importantly (to me), it establishes that this is indeed a hotel/resort and not a mansion, as the readheroaca team randomly translated it as last week. like does that look like any mansion you’ve ever seen. come on now

anyway so now my question is what happens if someone actually tries to stay at this hotel. do they just book that shit on trivago and enjoy a week up in the mountains surrounded by very strange but seemingly nice people, and just never suspect a thing? like, Gigantomachia lives in the basement here. I’m just saying. how dense can these hypothetical travelers be

also the hotel is apparently 80km from the hospital, or about 50 miles for us troglodytes who still use the imperial system. so pretty safe to say neither team will be able to provide backup to the other in this case. I will try not to think about this

so now Ujiko, the man without a name, is screaming while Endeavor and his group just STAND THERE LIKE TWENTY FEET AWAY. what the fuck

I swear to god he looked so much closer in the previous chapter. WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING. HE’S GOT NOUMUS IN THE BASEMENT!! CAN YOU FUCKING ARREST HIS ASS ALREADY

YESSSS AIZAWA

what are the odds that the next panel features Aizawa Shouta looking more pissed off than we’ve ever seen him. oh my god. it’s probably going to be hot af. I’m not sure I’m ready

booooooo

that is more or less the opposite of hot af. Horikoshi why you gotta do me like that

well well WELL!

you mean to say Mr. Innocent Quirkless Philanthropist isn’t actually quirkless?? even though he wasn’t actually innocent?? and he wasn’t actually a philanthropist either?? well I am just SHOCKED. who saw this coming. how could this happen

also for real this is creeping me the fuck out though

it does make sense though. I just can’t picture AFO entrusting so much of his operation to this dude if he actually was quirkless. because he’d view someone without a quirk as being lesser/inferior. so Ujiko almost had to have something up his sleeve. although it’s possible he could have been granted a quirk, rather than being born with one I suppose

!!!!

DO NOT TELL ME THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS THE FUCKING IMMORTALITY QUIRK. WHAT THE FUCK. IS HE JUST GOING TO SHRIVEL UP INTO NOTHING. NO FUCKING WAY HE GOES DOWN THAT EASY WHAT THE HELL

(ETA: and does this mean that if Aizawa ever visits AFO and uses his quirk on him, AFO will also instantly age like 200 fucking years? could that actually kill him?)

duuuuude. Nao’s speculating about whether the Noumus’ regeneration ability actually stems from this quirk. ...but that can’t be the case, can it? otherwise AFO would have been able to heal his injuries from the battle with All Might. we know for a fact he’s known Ujiko for at least 15 years. but still, either way it’s still one hell of a powerful quirk

which now seems to be unraveling before our very eyes. uh...

anyone else getting Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade vibes? “he chose... poorly”

oh MY GOD!!

do it Mic do it do it do it

oh my god. well he’s not killing him with his voice, but instead this is happening

nooo Mic. I need you to be less anguished and more murdery. I don’t want feels yet!! goddammit

I mean it’s not asking for too much, is it? I just want a teensy little bit of satisfaction before the shit hits the fan. just torture him a little bit. just a little!

oh hey some doctors are intervening because the heroes look like psychopaths right now

s2g if one of these fuckers gets in between Ujiko and Aizawa’s line of sight and he fucking gets away -- !! oh my god. I can’t fucking take this. ffdffjjjk I’m so anxious you guys, I could never be a hero the stress is too much

so instead of explaining it to these rightfully concerned people, the heroes are just pushing them aside and telling them to stand back. and like, on the one hand I get it. they’re on the clock, they have to eliminate John-kun before the hotel villains get wind of the attack, and they don’t have time to explain an entire series’s worth of backstory to everyone who asks about it. but on the other hand, I also just want them to shout “HE EXPERIMENTED ON CHILDREN AND CORPSES AND CREATED THE NOUMUS!” or something. just so they know. I need them to know goddammit

but at least the patients seem to all be pretty chill about it lmao

-- holy shit. okay, three things

that panel with them moving the beds is my favorite

the panel with Tora holding this one guy who’s suddenly IN LOVE is also my favorite. oh man. Tora you are the manliest

combat with the WHAT DID YOU SAY NOW

so they knew?? well that sure fucking explains why Endeavor made the executive decision to keep his son and the other kids as far away as possible. but also, what? so like they must not realize that there are more high ends, then. right? or else they surely would not be so casual about this

holy shit?!

just how thorough was this investigation?? I really need to stop underestimating the heroes huh. should have learned my lesson after Kamino. these guys do their homework. it’s just that there’s always some one last thing that they failed to account for

so what is it going to be then in this case? Tomura is the one controlling them now? shitttttt

oh god. yeah, Miruko’s just casually kicking down the mortuary door and she’s all “we know who’s controlling them!” so I assume they believe that it’s Ujiko. which is honestly what I myself assumed up until about ten seconds ago, so fair enough

SDKFJLSKHGLK THERE IT IS

hot. a. f. just like I said. excuse me sir but there are laws against smoking in a hospital. because you’re smoking. get it. ...it’s because you’re hot. ...yes sir I’m sorry sir I will stop now

so Ujiko is sobbing and screaming “let me go!!” and okay but where is Present Mic? do you see, Mic. this is what I wanted, okay. but it’s all right, I understand that you were upset

ohhhhhhhhhh ffffuuuu

Endeavor with a worried look and lots of dots followed by an exclamation point, and then a closeup of Ujiko’s mouth looking surprisingly sinister as he reiterates for them to let him go. I’M SURE THIS IS ALL FINE. WE’RE ALL FINE. THAT’S OKAY HORIKOSHI, YOU CAN END THE CHAPTER HERE, IT’S GOOD. WE GOT LIKE WHAT, EIGHT PAGES? THAT’S PLENTY, REALLY

FUFFFFFFF NO MIRUKO DON’T GO FLYING INTO THE VOID! THE VOID IS BAD

HOLY SHIT

jesus christ. Miruko does the exact same thing as Katsuki where she sees a wall and she’s all “FUCK YEAH.” goddamn. it honest to god gave me a boost of confidence even as I watched her announce that THE NOUMU ARE DOING THE EXACT FUCKING THING SHE JUST SAID THAT THEY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO DO

and also that is 100% a black Noumu there on the right side. so confirmed, the big guns are here too

HOLY SHIT TIMES TWO

THIS FUCKING HOSPITAL REALLY HAD THE FUCKING ASTEROID WORM FROM EMPIRE STRIKES BACK IN THE FREAKING BASEMENT, AND YOU ALL COULDN’T FUCKING DETECT THAT?? GET BETTER DETECTING TECHNOLOGY YOU DUMB HEROES

but nice save, Aizawa!! I personally would not have had such quick reflexes upon being confronted by a giant monster lunging out of the floor to stick out its multipronged DRILL TONGUE WHICH IS ALSO ITS BRAIN, haha. can someone please check on Horikoshi to make sure he is doing all right. I have some concerns about the mind that drew this

holy shit the drill tongue Noumu is actually drilling into Ujiko. like there’s blood and stuff

-- SHIT

THIS IS WHY YOU HAVE THE DAMN GOGGLES YOU ASSHOLE!! “BUT MAKESTE YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WANTED ME TO TAKE THEM OFF SO THAT I COULD LOOK HOT.” WELL JUST LOOK AT HOW WELL THAT TURNED OUT! THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER LISTEN TO ME

(ETA: well it turned out not to matter BUT STILL.)

lmao Endeavor looks so fucking mad

“THIS IS WHY YOU HAVE THE DAMN GOGGLES YOU ASSHOLE.” I know, right?!

...aaaaaand this is happening

lol. good job @blessedgirthma you called it. it’s a clone! hahaha, fuck

and so the bad man lives to see another day. bets on who will eventually be the one to take him out? just remember how long that list is. lots of enemies, Ujiko. you’ll get yours

but right now I guess we have some other things to worry about

by the way we best pray to god that it was Twice who made that clone and not Ujiko himself, because if Ujiko has managed to replicate that ability on top of everything else, we can truly kiss the world goodbye

but anyway! so that’s Noumu!Tomura confirmed then, in my book. and there are the 11! does this mean they’re not at the hospital?? all I know is they had better not be out on the outskirts of the city where my babies are

also is Ujiko talking to himself here. it almost seems like his words are coming out of the clone’s mouth. but Twice doesn’t have that kind of clone puppeteering ability. so then who is this guy bragging to. -- oh my god can he see us

lmao he’s plopping into his science chair and zooming halfway across the room

don’t misunderstand me though, one panel of being super relatable does not make up for a lifetime of horrific and nauseating crimes

-- THERE ARE MORE VATS!!! HOLY SHIT

THERE ARE MORE VATS. THERE ARE MORE VATS

there is at least one more row than I recall seeing in that previous chapter way back when. so even more high ends. in addition to the 12 (11 considering Endeavor subsequently fried one) we previously saw

and also I just realized, he did say “this” hospital. meaning he is still in the basement? so these guys are still right under their noses, then? oh god oh god so much to process and all of it is terrible god

GAAAAAAASPPP

MILADY!!!!!

holy shit. you guys. what the fuck. the hell was All Might thinking going to U.A. to pick a student successor when Miruko was right fucking there. like I’m just saying??

and also, fuck me he is getting away

OH MY GOD

SHE FUCKING MURDERED POOR JOHN-KUN JUST LIKE THAT WHAAAAAT. YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE MIRUKO IS THE NEW MAIN CHARACTER OF BNHA, TIMES ARE WILD

lmao and that’s the end of the chapter. holy shit. all I need is for her to say “I am here!” and I’m set. I leave it in your capable hands. why was she not in charge to begin with. number five hero my ass!! smdh for real though guys lol

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moviegroovies · 4 years

Text

so i know i’m breaking like, this unspoken vow of silence re: the movie by making this post but this IS a movie blog and i did watch the last airbender. and can i just say. holy fucking shit.

y’all know i like a lot of bad movies. knowing that, take me seriously when i say: this is a BAD movie. and not in a good way. i went into it with no expectations except morbid curiosity and i was STILL let down. i wanted to hate watch it, and yeah, i hated watching it, but it wasn’t even fun to hate. i just hated it.

don’t watch the last airbender.

if you’re like me and you just wanted to know exactly how bad it was, please benefit from my mistakes. read my fun funky rant and then never think of that movie again. put it out of your mind. rewatch boiling rock. love yourself.

anyway.

pretty much the one and only thing i knew about why it was bad going in was that it was whitewashed; that’s like the only thing anyone ever mentions in conjecture with this movie, when they mention it at all. knowing this, going in knowing full well that the casting department did crimes against humanity, i was still shocked and disturbed at the sight of white katara and white sokka. literally... that casting choice was a hate crime. look them up (or check out my last post) if you need to see it for yourself... it’s bad y’all. somehow i had braced myself for white aang, but before i saw it with my own two eyes i couldn’t believe that they would actually whitewash katara and sokka, And Yet. the really stupid thing is that it’s not even “””justified””” IN UNIVERSE; most of the members of the southern water tribe are played by asian actors, meaning that they didn’t even pull a pan and make the WHOLE southern water tribe white, they just made sokka and katara mysteriously “special” in a spectacularly poor judgement call.

actually, that’s another thing. outside the northern water tribe (which is also mostly white... i’m wondering if sokka and katara are white because gran gran--a white woman in the movie--is from the north? anyway it’s a moot point either way because none of them should be white, there are NO WHITE CHARACTERS IN THE SHOW AVATAR, jesus FUCKING christ), most of the extras and background characters are played by actors of color, particularly asian actors, which would be accurate to the show’s canon. maybe m night shyamalan or someone else involved in the making of this shitshow of a movie thought that this would somehow absolve the whitewashing of the main characters, but in reality i’d argue that it makes it even worse; by having characters mostly played by people of color continuously being saved by three little white bitches, the movie goes HARD on the white savior trope, and also just generally uses these actual, living people as exploitative, orientalist set dressing for this 1 hour and 43 minutes of special hell.

with one notable exception: prince zuko is played by an actor of color--specifially, dev patel. (who is himself miscast, considering how zuko and the fire nation are japanese-coded, but the second they opened on that veruca salt looking ass bitch calling herself katara any hope that the makers of this movie gave any consideration to the racial coding avatar introduced went right out the window.) which adds Another layer of racism to this already inconceivably bad fuckup of a movie; how strange, that the movie’s racebending made all three heroes white, but the primary antagonist (as well as the secondary antagonist, zhao, and the mostly-off-screen-but-still-present ozai) is a man of color. what an odd coincidence. hmmmm.

i hate this movie. i do want to note, though, that dev patel’s inclusion was the only thing that actually got me through the whole thing; i have no idea why he was in this film (he’s FAR too talented for the content he was given and no one else in the entire cast went even one sixteenth as hard as he did) but he was its one saving grace. still, though, even he couldn’t save it. he was so cute and he did his damn best with probably the worst script in the history of film... but he was still in THIS film. since the release of this movie, patel has spoken out against his role in it and the world of hollywood blockbusters in general, and to that i say... good for him.

i was going for zuko though. this time it was like YES baby CAPTURE that avatar. full stop.

so yes, it was horribly miscast, whitewashed to hell and back, and went with a racist white hero/villains of color cast as a backdrop. all of these things, in themselves, are enough to completely condemn the movie, and my work here might as well be done... except to end it there would be to leave one million other glaring flaws unexamined. and i refuse to let any rock be unturned.

because, like, it’s NOT just bad because of the whitewashing. the whitewashing and the other racist elements are huge PARTS of why this is a bad movie, but even if this movie was made with an accurate and un-whitewashed cast, it would STILL be a bad movie, and i need you all to know this.

starting from the top: they ruined katara and sokka.

well, they ruined them the second they cast them the way they did. but again, let’s say they cast someone else. let’s say they cast appropriate actors for the rolls, but the level of acting skill and the script they used was the same. even in this case, they would have RUINED katara and sokka. none of the characters in this movie are 100% recognizable (and i’ll keep repeating it: the casting DID NOT HELP), but katara and sokka got hit the hardest and the worst. the things that sokka should have brought to the table (his goofy attitude, his intelligence) were erased, and the “sokka” we were given instead was a jerkass buzzkill who might have occasionally been the butt of a joke, but was never actually intended to be funny in his own right. reflecting on the series, it’s kind of as if we got his characterization from the first episode (before sokka got any development and was, i guess, kind of a jerkass buzzkill) and never strayed from that, which would be bad enough, but i think even episode ONE sokka was more fun and dynamic than White Sokka™. mistakes were made.

but it was even WORSE for katara. katara’s righteous anger was all but erased. SOKKA was the one who broke the avatar out of the ice, and only because they accidentally happened upon him--katara didn’t get to be angry at sokka’s jerkass sexism and unconsciously fuck up an entire iceberg. katara NEVER got to be angry. in fact, most of katara’s moments were taken and distributed between aang and sokka; aang, for instance is the one who inspires the earthbenders to break out of prison. we don’t even see katara train with master pakku, and SHE was the one who actually became a waterbending master when they went to the north pole. in this movie, katara mostly existed to talk about ~hope~ (very ember island players, lmfao) and hug aang when he went into the avatar state.

by the way, that prison? it’s not the metal platform in the middle of the ocean we got in the show. it’s just... an enclosed village. surrounded by dirt and earth. and the earthbenders never tried to break out until aang came along and told them to? hmmmm....

Unfortunate Implications™, but what did you expect.

other than that, idk. the writing was so fucking bad, y’all. a significant chunk of the plot relies on the “as you know” trope, in which characters have an expository discussion about something everyone present should already be aware of and wouldn’t need to get into. this normally wouldn’t bother me THAT much, if i noticed it at all (exposition is essential, after all, and you only have so much time in a movie, so i guess it makes sense when you’re trying to compress an entire season of a show into one), except like... it’s ridiculous. i couldn’t ignore it, they just hit the hammer so hard. “as you know, this is what the avatar is. as you know, zuko was exiled after fighting an agni kai with his father. as you know...”

bleh.

after that, i guess all my complaints are a little more pedantic. some smaller things that made the movie unwatchable: the bending motions were super weird and i think sped up? there were perfectly good martial arts moves right there waiting for them, and shyamalan fucked even THAT up in an effort to... what? make it look more “mystical?” bitch i’ll kill you. also, for reasons completely unfathomable to me, some of the names were pronounced oddly despite being said one million times in the show. “aah-ng” “ee-roh” “soh-ka” “ahvatar.” literally... why.

i’ve been thinking “soh-ka” in my head for like two weeks. hideous.

and one last thing, which really DOESN’T matter in comparison to what they did to the human characters, but like... what fucking happened to appa?? why did they do that to him?

don’t watch the last airbender.

#the last airbender #text post #katara #sokka #zuko #aang #hideous bad movie time

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theshinsun · 4 years

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A-Z for honesty hour because I'm an asshole. :D

A - If I’m in love.

...yes. I never thought I would be again, I thought I’d been too hurt and jaded to feel this way again, but against all odds, I’m back to being 17 in full force.

B - Who the last person I talked to on the phone was.

The only one who ever calls me is my mother. And customers at work.

C - How long it’s been since I’ve kissed.

damn, almost a year now… not since my last relationship ended back in October-ish. even then, it was mostly casual pecks idk if we ever seriously made out tbh.

D - If I have a preference for boys or girls.

already answered (twice) but I'll keep going… I've got a definite preference of guys over girls, but I'm also a bi disaster and sometimes it doesn't make a lot of sense why this person is instantly attractive to me while that person isn't. certain aspects of femininity do appeal to me, but weirdly other aspects seem to be a turn-off and I can't always put my finger on what or why. ...that caveat does not apply to masculinity though, even if it's traditionally "masculine" features on a feminine-presenting individual I am 100% down every time.

E - How many holes I have in my ears.

two and a half? I got a third piercing at some point halfway up the lobe but it got infected and scarred over I think. the holes I do have are also stretched (I'm up to 0G now) and I've been meaning to get some more.

F - Give me any options, like ‘hot or cold?’

wasn't given any options, so I guess I'll go with hot or cold lol. I prefer hot, I'm one of those weirdos who loves summer because of the heat and I'll usually take a hot food/drink over a cold one.

G - The last person I said ‘I love you’ to.

my mom, over the phone just now.

H - The last person I hugged.

my roommate. we're not always super touchy-feely with each other but I've been feeling kind of down and she noticed.

I - The last time I felt jealous, and why.

I'm not usually a very jealous person, but the last time I really felt that way… I'd recently broken up with my ex, and they were sitting on someone else's lap and I… felt things. part of the reason I realized I may have made a mistake.

J - Are you insecure. What about?

K - What my full name is

already answered, my first and middle are Jacob Brooks, I'm not putting my last name out there sorry I don't trust like that.

L - If I have siblings.

already answered, I've got two, an older brother and a younger sister.

M - If I forgive betrayal.

I mean, I forgive but I don't forget, ya know? like I'll accept an apology if it's sincere and welcome the person back and never bring it up again, but I'm probably gonna be cautious around them in the future, and not trust them as readily as I would have before.

N - If you want to know how I treat my friends.

if I call someone my friend it means I really feel close with them, and I treat my friends basically like my family. I try to always be honest and supportive of them, bc I love and appreciate them and just want them to be happy.

O - If I like my school.

I love my school. the campus is beautiful, the teachers are fantastic, and I just love being there and learning and growing in my classes. I'm really sad this semester is probably going to be mostly online because I really feel like I belong in those studios and on that campus and I miss it.

P - What kind of music I like.

already answered, and it mostly boiled down to all over the fuckin place, so this time… band recommendations, here we go. no you have no say in this.

here, have a clump of random favorite bands off the top of my head: mother mother, bad suns, nothing but thieves, hozier, shearwater, the neighbourhood, steam powered giraffe, rainbow kitten surprise, the oh hellos, gregory alan isakov, caravan palace, mystery skulls, khai dreams, autoheart, muse, silversun pickups, thousand foot krutch, two door cinema club, twenty one pilots, blue october, jukebox the ghost

Q - What the last party I went to was, and when the next will be.

I'm not a partier at All, but I did have a bunch of friends over for the 4th (okay I say a bunch but it was like four people from our usual less-socially distant circle). I have no idea when the next get-together will be, it's kinda hard to plan those kinds of things lately.

R - For me to tell 10 of my curiosities.

the phrasing of this question is weird but I'm gonna assume it means things I'm curious about? let's go with that.

travel. I haven't ever been out of the country and I'd like to see other parts of the world at least at some point in my life.

tattoos. both getting them and learning to do them, it's a niche branch of art that I'm just fascinated by and I might like to do it as a career if I knew more about it.

same thing with being a florist. I'm really drawn to it as a concept and I'm super curious how it works, but I have no idea what kind of… qualifications and whatnot I'd need for that.

surfing. I'm surrounded by the lifestyle and now kind of own a surfboard, I just want to know what the appeal is.

this may be a bit tmi, but I'm really curious what it's like to have a dick. I don't suppose I'll strictly ever know, but I still really want to… probably one of the biggest things to clue me in that I'm definitely trans is the literal penis envy ngl.

I've always kind of had a fascination with the ocean, and I'd love to go like, scuba diving or something someday, to see it up close and personal.

I think everyone has the impulse thought of shaving their head at some point. maybe someday I will I don't quite have the balls to do it now.

I've gone this long in my life and never wielded a sword? a travesty. I don't pretend to have the grace to actually know how to use one, but I've like, never even held a real one and the idea interests me a lot.

this one might be slightly morbid curiosity, but I don't think I've ever been like, properly drunk or high before, like I've been tipsy but I've never been wasted, you know? the idea kind of scares me and I don't think I'm going to go out and remedy it, but it's still there, and even if I know it's not a good idea, I do still wonder what that's like.

same vein, maybe even a little darker, but I've got at least a little morbid curiosity about like, death and real danger. again, not planning to act on it At All, but the thought is still lurking in the back of my mind like what if…? you asked for honesty. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

S - 2 habits.

bit of a new habit, but I have a whole ritual of disinfecting groceries when I bring them home, and then disinfecting the door knobs and counters. I don't know if it'll persist after the pandemic is over, but it's already ingrained in me and I don't feel comfortable if I skip it or do it differently.

I apologize for things that aren't my fault. it's such an instinct at this point to say "sorry" when I'm uncomfortable or anxious that it doesn't even register anymore, even when people tell me not to be sorry, I'm still gonna say it, sorry.

T - 5 things I love unconditionally.

already answered so here's 5 more

my family. if I haven't got my family I haven't got anything, we've got each others' backs and I won't turn on them for anything

my friends. same deal, I owe so much to my friends, I love them, and that won't change no matter what they decide to do or be.

sleep. I love sleep so much, even if it's just an involuntary nap, though for someone who loves it so much I sure don't get enough of it

spotify. I know it has problems, I know there are probably more streamlined/cheaper music streaming services out there, but at this point, I've sunk too much of my time and energy into this one and I'll never give it up

my ocs. I don't talk about them very much on this platform, but I have them, they're my children, and I love them even if they're assholes and never easy to write/draw.

U - How many texts I send daily.

already answered, the number varies, and sometimes swings drastically between like, 5 and 35 on any given day.

V - 3 big dreams.

graduate art school. it's gonna be a serious undertaking and probably take several more years and a lot of loans at this point, but I'm still determined to get there someday.

someday I want to write a book. I know I've said that before on a different prompt, but it wouldn't be a list of dreams without including this one that I've held onto since childhood.

this one's kind of vague, but someday… I want to not be afraid anymore. like I want to finally be in a state of mental/financial security so I can live my life without the fear of what's coming next.

W - An idol.

it's probably really basic to list a youtuber, but I've still gotta go with Chase Ross. the guy was an inspiration and a major source of information and support for me early-on in my transition, and even watching him now I still want to approach life with the pure positive energy and confidence that he has.

X - If I’ve done something I regret very much.

yes. a couple things, really… some of which I don't think I'll ever be able to make up for.

Y - If I like my town and why.

my current town? yeah, it's got its problems but it's also beautiful and full of life and art and unique energy and I miss the days before the Corona End Times when I could actually go out and enjoy it.

Z - Ask any question you want.

??? I did not receive any specification for this one, and given that I didn't skip even the duplicate answers and this is ridiculously long, this one I'm gonna SKIP.

#shin speaks #answered #finally getting to this a million years later #thanks friend!!#i'll get to the other prompts in a second but i felt bad about not finishing this one #tw death mention #tw alcohol mention #just to be safe

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