#*/ give us more detonation ; threads.

[cripplemagics]

cont. from (X) w/ @unsnare

Jay stands still, at attention and stone faced despite the terror inside. It was a shortcut to the location. That's all they'd taken and yet they're out of line.

'Don't look at him. Don't stare him down. He's not like the ones before. He will be rough. He can kill you.'

They bite their tongue hard in hopes of deterring any incoming pain. It does nothing to keep them from gasping as they crumble under Ghost's kick. Down they fall to their knees. Eyes stay forward. Even as Ghost wraps his hand around their neck. Their pulse quickens under his fingers.

'Breathe deep, slow. Stay calm.'

"Understood sir." Tears pool in their eyes but they don't make any further sounds. He can't know their fear, their pain.

[cripplemagics]

starter for Kenzo / @unsnare bc i love youuuuuu

The only people Jay ever expects to appear anymore is family, Elias, and the occasional capitol elite thinking they're available for sex. They never expect Kenzo for a handful of reasons. Mainly the fact that they assume he's busy with Snow, and that he hates them too much to see their face. So to see him at their door is nauseating.

"I promise that for once I haven't started fights and I haven't antagonized anyone. I've just been here nursing a dislocated knee." Kinetic tape draped over said knee and an uncomfortable looking physiotherapist in their den confirms the statement. "Would you care to leave?"

[cripplemagics]

@painmon gets a starter from a liked call!

Night walks come often since they killed Elias. During that wretched time where he terrorized them, Jay felt trapped. Now they're beyond free. No Elias, no lab, no kid standing dazed in the middle of the sidewalk --

Who the fuck is this?!

"Hey!" Jay starts jogging, mind racing faster. "Hey dude! You okay?" To them it looks like he's having an absent seizure. No convulsions, blank face with vacant eyes, might be passed off as daydreaming. "Hey! Lets sit down, okay? Can you do that?"

[cripplemagics]

@unsnare gets a semi-plotted starter!

No matter how many times Erik heals them, pain torments their fingers. He's snapped them off, twisted them out of the socket, pulled them slowly enough that Jay can feel every tendon and vein break. Time blindness is a part of their psyche. Yet this torture has caused the entire dimension itself to disappear.

His reason, as far as they know, is merely for the fascination and attraction to violence he holds. Any other reason would sound like madness to them. When he pauses to stare, Jay realizes how distressed they must look. Sweat drenched hair sticks to their scalp and face. Half dried tear tracks stain their cheeks. Chapped lips part to beg for a longer respite only to close in fear of further pain. Instead their shoulders drop as they brace for another round of hell. Their gaze stays on him, sullen and unable to hide disappointment.

'I'm not fighting back, so do your worst.'

[cripplemagics]

@wickedslip gets a starter cos they liked a call!

It's quiet in Creel's Clocks. Jay's sat at the front register, sketchbook and pencils strewn across the counter. No one has come by and Henry's out with Chrissy. Admittedly they don't expect anyone for. the rest of the day. Nausicaä's arrival sends them scrambling to clean up the art mess.

"H-hi! Welcome!" Jay does their best to grin and hold the embarrassed flush spreading across their cheeks back. "Sorry; Henry's out and I got a bit bored. What's up?"

[cripplemagics]

cont. from XX w/ @unsnare

"It's Elias's! Not mine!"

Jay looks about the room as they realize what they've done to Milos's office. A curse passes their lips and they start rummaging in their jacket pocket. "I'm so sorry! He came barreling in and i sort of panicked? But i can clean this all up! Just gimme a minute to -- Ah!"

They pull out a little statue that, if looked at closely, vaguely appears to be them with shut eyes and short hair. Holding it close, they start whispering a spell. In a flash the entire room is cleansed of the chaos once covering it in blood. Now the room has been returned to pristine condition.

"There we go." They're still worse for wear. But it's mainly bruises and dislocations. They're fine in the long run. "I'm really sorry! Like I said, he just came barreling in. I don't know who let him in or if he used magic? He obviously got some hits in. But I hit him back harder, obviously."

[cripplemagics]

@khenzi sent: [ BUTTON ] — sender undoes the buttons of receiver's shirt

Calm. Quiet, tense, serene calm.

Jay -- for once -- holds a quiet mind. Their singular thought is one name: Kenzi.

Kenzi. Kenzi. Kenzi. Kenzi.

The thought cuts out at the touch of a finger. Cool skin trails down their neck, along one side of their clavicle, and takes a hold of their shirt collar. A silent huff rolls through them. Hurry up! It says. Yet Kenzi refuses to relent. Jay watches them hungrily, savoring the hint of her breath on their chest.

One button undone, another, a third, then the last. Finally, they're free of stupid shirt fabric. Their breath releases and they shimmy out of the sleeves. Now a myriad of scars show like a star map. Each one makes its own constellation. There's no time to apologize for them though. Kenzi's hand traces from one to another, then along their chest. It takes all of Jay's strength to not beg for any further touch from them. They can't stop the silent prayer though.

Let me in. Let me soak in your gentle touches. Stay with me until I beg you for a sweet and hard fuck. Then never stop, let me die in your arms again and again. Never let me leave.

[cripplemagics]

cont. from (X) w/@ebbiemunson

"Cool, thanks." Jay pushes themself up into a sitting position. Surprisingly they're not in much pain yet. Considering the dried blood on their skin, they're not keen to ask what they looked like upon arrival. Eddie's done a bang up job though.

"Hm," they snort. "I do remember but it's not gonna make sense to you." Half the time their powers don't even make sense to them. Their last attempt at manipulating the time around a single flower threw them across the field. Apparently space had a few things to say about being ripped away from its soulmate.

"Anyways, I'm kind of not supposed to be out this far from Hawkins. My parents get worried, god. . ." Mama and Poppa Holden are not going to like how they show up to dinner. "I'll be fine! I don't need help with anything I just need my cane. Did you come across a backpack on your way out here? Beat up, covered in paint and old blood? Looks like it might've been green underneath all the shit?"

[silvyysthings]

Well sit me down and call me shocked….Not! “PLANNED HEADLINES” with Timmy and their PR Romance and getting in the way of her being with Travis? So the anon (who is most probably her PR team) are now implying through Deux that there is some sort of Contractual Business Agreement in place for the “Never existed” romance saying the headlines are planned with Timmy and his team in advance and she wants out? Don’t get too excited my loves incase you didn’t know Season 4 of her show was recently filmed and has a new premiere date of September 28. In recent articles it teases their storyline might be included (because does it mean anything if you can’t sell it?).This Deux blind could be another PR trick from both camps and her and Timmy turn up together somewhere finally in a clear photo. Timmy and his team need to read the room as he may as well hit the “detonate” button on his career if that happens. Timmy is ambitious and has played along with backyard, taco dates, driveway shots etc etc etc but from watching and reading these last few months it’s her and her family with their Social Media Power that has the upper hand in trade Media. IF blind is true he will continue his silence knowing she can bury him at anytime. He will also pop up for a staged fan photo in the next 48 hours looking like he never played along or gives a shit. If it’s a another PR trick for attention and they continue they will be seen together or more of her insider sources will let us know the blind is a lie on top of the break up rumors via more countless press articles………. Well! Well! Well! …….what did I just say…..Just as I’m writing this we get another blurry photo of them in France which fans are saying is also fake and Blurry of course. Isn’t she meant to be in Italy? Fans are now tweeting threads with receipts on how this never existed or how they have been in separate places for months. Jesus Timmy what are him and his team involved in? Does he want attention at any cost for Dune 2 and Wonka? This is embarrassing. The new Deux blind implies she’s still in love with Travis and spent her birthday with him privately but is in a what bearding contract? with “planned headlines” she can’t get out of and now another bullshit blurred photo in France to muddy the waters? Thing is it’s working as we are all talking about it. Just remember Deux wrote “I do think her and Timmy have cooled off” when she comes back aggressively saying it’s not true and their still together. Is the reason Timmy hasn’t ended this because she has the goods on him or will make him look bad in the narrative on the next season of her Reality Show starting soon? Wow. Cue pap or staged fan photo with Timmy along with a script on how amazing he is in 3….2….1. What a SHIT Show. Imagine having to work this hard to prove your in a secret squirrel relationship but never shut up in the press about giving updates nobody asked for every 10 business days to what prove he’s in a relationship with a woman or keeping press attention during a strike? This is getting old and starting to wear thin with Fan fatigue. If it’s not and they are both playing PR games and he’s actually dating her..yeah Good Luck with that! He needs to ask himself why as part of their “secret, casual shes busy but they like each other and see each other when they can” relationship update articles a few days ago her sources thought it necessary to speak on behalf of Travis Scott and let us know “Travis is not dating anybody seriously right now”… um o.k??? Anyway back to the new blurry photos in France that mysteriously turned up on Twitter a few hours after the Deux blind. It’s looking like a P.R nightmare.

Well I appreciate you all send me anons but you can stay within 10 lines? Thank you😅😂

One thing that isn't clear imho,maybe, is that TIMMY DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK BEFORE , DURING AND AFTER. For the blurry photos I even don't want to express myself ...😅😂🤦‍♀️

[cripplemagics]

closed starter for @sah1x1s

Jay hasn't dropped by the art studio in a bit, thanks to the whole Elias situation. Luckily a few other artists have kept things going. Now that they're back, they recognize a couple of customers milling about the small shopfront. A little old woman who always wants cute watercolor cat prints, and Tristian Paynes. Admittedly Jay's never gotten to talk with him that much. However they at least know his name.

"Hey Tristian!" They wave while unleashing Serenity to let her sniff around the place. "Anything particular you're looking for today? Haven't been around, so I don't know what all is available. But I saw Carla printing out some of her landscapes for sale and I think Mickey's got a few sculptures almost ready to sell."

[resolutepath]

[ pat, for achi ] "I'll love you as long as I breathe," it was a phrase he said after a long and passionate kiss, the type that left him and his lover breathless, the type they had shared countless times and would share again infinite times. They were new recruits then, so young and unaware of the horrors of war. He gently moved one of his lover's strands of hair aside, so it wasn't falling on their face.

"I'll love you as long as I breathe," it was a phrase he said quietly, ghosting over his lover's forehead after kissing them goodnight. It's been nearly a decade since the war started, and neither of them are young and naive soldiers hoping to ascend ranks through their feats in the battlefield. He carefully lifted one strand of their beautiful, long hair to kiss before lying next to them to rest.

"I'll love you as long as I breathe," it's a phrase on the tip of his tongue when he meets their gaze, but then they both immediately look away. He doesn't know what scares him most: seeing hurt and betrayal in those beautiful eyes, or seeing the same love despite all. The war hasn't ended, and they aren't at the frontline, but it still feels like they are. Their beautiful long hair is gone, and he no longer has the excuse of wanting to rearrange a wild strand to get closer and kiss them.

The words are soft in his ear as he has had the very breathe stolen from his chest and Achilles cannot help but let lips curl in a gentle smile as a shudder runs down his spine. He is a warrior, a spear born for battle and bloodshed, yet here, in the hands of Patroclus he is soft and loving, a reed in the wind, malleable to his lover's affections, weak to his touch. He cannot help but forget the war that is here and is coming, the horrors they will endure, with the way fingers brush his hair and ghost against his skin. "And I you..." he breathes is a solemn vow before he leans in again to chase another one of those kisses, to consume what love will be given, to drown himself in everything that is Patroclus. The new day may bring them horrors, but for now he can bask in this, in them, and worry only that his words will never match the vow Patroclus has made because his brain cannot string a phrase together when they are like this.

---

The words are a ghost this time, a faint impression of lips against his forehead long after the other side of the bed has gone cold as he wakes with a start to realise he is alone. Alone. It is panic that draws him from the bed, to find the dogtags that sit at the side of his bed, the metal chain curled atop a note that only reads Let us meet again someday. Someday. Meet again. It is a choked sob that escapes him as he dresses haphazardly, throwing on enough to be presentable as he hurries from the room to check the usual haunts, to search for a ghost. But ghosts cannot be seen and he is alone, all alone. It is only when he is in the dirt that he collapses to his knees, clutching at the tag so hard that it embeds itself in his skin and he sobs once, twice and howls. This war has taken so many, he had been prepared, he thinks, for them to be separated in battle. But not like this, never like this. This war has taught him what it is to have something stolen from him and he burns with the rage it ignites. They will pay, he vows as he crawls from the dirt, a shadow of himself, now more akin to the Keres as he pulls his loose threads too tight and goes for his armour, his weapon. He will eat the world raw if needed for everything that was soft or beautiful or bright about him is gone, gone, gone with Patroclus. Later in the space of his room he takes a knife to his hair and hacks because he cannot bear the whisp of it against his neck giving the illusion his lover's touch.

---

To see each other again was not something Achilles had anticipated happening in his lifetime, let alone to be in the same room without something exploding. Him, it will always be him, the live wire, the volatile threat ready to detonate. Yet here, he simply finds he cannot hold Patroclus' gaze, finds his own drawn to the ground in shame for the horrors he has committed. Neither of them move, they are frozen in their motion and war still rages, their war, Belobog's war, the universe's war if you listen to Destiny's Slave. There's so much that they have done, that they have become and he knows Patroclus has moved past him, has grown past him.

But the dogtag still sits against his chest, a weight tethering them together, their shared love still here. He can see it.

Perhaps its selfish, but for a moment a glimmer of the old Achilles enters the room, as he looks back up, crosses the space and reaches for Pat's cheek. His hands tremble, he doesn't know what he's doing, but he's lost and lost and burned and he needs something different. It's time to be honest, time to recognise that there is more to their story than this tragedy so he forces their gazes to meet more tenderly than he has touched any in recent years and he presses their mouths together. It's messy, a little rushed and unpracticed, but the affection is still there and though the kiss is short it still leaves him as breathless as their kisses back then. He draws back then, his thumb stroking over a cheekbone, and voice hoarse as he speaks. "I'll love you as long as I breathe..." he echoes and then turns, moving away so he does not see the rejection form on Patroclus' lips nor the rejection in his gaze.

He just needed him to know, and now he does. That's enough, it has to be.

[autumn-foxfire]

I'm up to episode 61 so I think it's time to watch the first movie for the series. I know they're technically not canon but I still want to watch them in a way that sort of matches the series.

I could have probably watched it sooner but I kind of got a bit too hooked on watching the series when I could XD

Isn't Conan known as Shinichi's cousin in later chapters? In fact it's Yukiko who calls him that, right? Makes sense why this movie has it so Shinichi "doesn't know" Conan and Shinichi has to pretend he's just remembered his name.

There is something to be said that Shinichi picks Ran's favourite colour because he knew it was her favourite instead of actually picking a colour that would make him happy like she intended. It's such a small lie but it's one that really does give us more insight into their relationship (yes, yes I know this is non-canon but still the non-canon movies still make there relationship dubious because that's how it's depicted in canon).

Also, she also picked a movie that is clearly something for her, for Shinichi's birthday. That would be like me picking a horror movie to watch for my boyfriend's birthday even though he doesn't like them but I love them. It's inconsiderate. These are such basic romantic gestures and even the writing team can't get them right.

Maybe you wouldn't have to worry about turning Ran down if you had just told her the truth and then you two could have gone together without all the goddamn hiding but nooooooo.

Shinichi, that probably wasn't the best way to tell kids they were playing with a bomb but I get it, you were panicked.

One of the many times being Conan has actually helped him with criminals, everyone underestimates him as a child.

Awww, Shinichi caring about the property he stole even though he did it for good, what a good boy. Shinichi you also haven't done anything good for your rep by letting "Conan" handle the bombs XD

I do love how protective the movies make Kogoro of Conan. Even if he's also still pretty arrogant about it.

LMAO I forgot the Detective Boys just keep getting near the bombs by complete accident.

Sonoko, please go, you'd be a better date for Ran than Shinichi will ever be.

The train bombs is such a good moment in the movie. Just the tenseness of them not knowing if Shinichi is right as they divert the trains. How all the employees conducts themselves to help and the relief and celebration when they succeed. It just's really good. It's something the movies do really well.

The fact that Kogoro is actually on the right track but came to the wrong conclusion T-T

That poster art looked really, really bad. Ran are you sure you want to see this movie. Maybe it's a good thing the building gets blown up.

Symmetry is overrated-

As an artist, I totally understand the urge to get rid of old work you don't want anyone to see anymore, so mood. I too, would blow up a building to get rid of them.

Don't you just hate it when your detonator has no batteries because a gremlin stole them?

Megure treating Shiratori as his pokemon: "Shiratori attack!"

Ran's dead. I'm sorry, she got crushed. There goes Shinichi's love interest.

They really just let Shinichi run off with the bomb schematics, didn't they T-T

Yes, Ran, Shinichi is incredibly unreliable to you and doesn't trust you so WHY DO YOU LIKE HIM?!

Ran, it has a clock on it, what do you fucking think it is?! Shinichi did not have to tell you that. Come on girl, you're both "in love" with and live with a detective, you can't be this dumb.

Sorry that was mean, she is in a tense situation. I apologise Ran, that was unnecessary.

Shinichi don't call her an idiot! SHE'S DISARMING A BOMB. Yes I do realise I am a hypocrite.

It's a good thing Ran is a hopeless romantic that Shinichi does not deserve at all.

There's no red thread because you two are terrible for each other <3

[cripplemagics]

"No its not that!" Jay sits themself in their oversized armchair, gnawing on the cord from their hoodie. "No one ever really throws stuff in my honor. Well obviously that's not true but. . . You know." They shrug. "Maybe a party is good for me. I need to get some things but I'll come along." Serenity spins in the most lopsided circle a great dane can manage. Obviously they've made her very happy.

"Do I need makeup or anything like that? What kind of party is this? Your dress is amazing! I just don't know if i wanna. . ." You can trust Nausi, Jay. She's far removed from everything with Elias. The hoodie cord's wet with saliva now from their chewing on it. Anxiety comes barreling in like a freight train. One look from Serenity though and its gone. She knows how to distract them well. It helps that they've taught her magic to strengthen her abilities.

"I trust you." The statement's directed at both Serenity and Nausi. "I'll get dressed! Do you want to do my makeup? Or should i just slap foundation on and be done?"

     Nausicaä had been at war with herself all day,     disassembling and reassembling the fragments of her tethered mind to reality,     knowing this might not at all be what Jay would really want for their special day.     When she showed up at the house,     ready to lend surprise,     the look on their face told her that this had been the least of Jay's suspicions.     LUCKILY,     she brought a birthday outfit for them,     just in case they truly hadn't been prepared in the slightest     (     or fibbing about it     ).      ❛     You know witches always come prepared.     No weather or lack of detecting predictability will stop us.     ❜     she grinned,     twirling once.     ❛     Or is it that    [ . . . ]     you do have something to wear,     and this wasn't at all what you wanted?     ❜     She stopped mid-swing,     and her eyes locked on Jay's.     ❛     Oh my god,     I hope I am not going to be that girl to ruin my best friend's birthday,     ❜     her long legs nearly gave out as she dramatically splayed herself against the soft cushions of the sofa,     so ever dramatically.

     ❛     Maybe you do need a party, no?     ❜     she offered.     ❛     Maybe that's exactly what you need,     because I think you deserve to be celebrated.     ❜     she attempted her best at the art of heightened eye contact,     and she never was one to hide from her feelings with them.     She instantly softens to the pup coming in between them,     and she knew that Serenity,     too,     had joined her side.

     ❛     You cannot say no to me any more than you can say no to Serenity.     Come on,     get dressed.     ❜     With That Look ™,     she knew they wouldn't say no again.

[acidbodywoman]

profile

( links connect to more in-depth explanations )

...

Surrounded by people with extraordinary powers, the “Acid Body Woman” is an exception. Despite her moniker, she has no power of her own. Indeed, “her” power to avoid death- no matter how taught the thread of her life is pulled- is the effect of another’s power known as “die Kette” The Chain, thrust upon her. 

The gun pressed to her head jams, the bomb strapped to her body doesn’t entirely detonate, the vat doesn’t dissolve her in her entirety. And, in the most drastic of situations, a miracle occurs: what was taken, what was lost, appears once more ( why else would she be the most desirable universal donor? ) 

It’s possible that the absence of suicide- how it never seems an option to her- is a mental effect of “Ich warte hier”. 

Those so inclined would say it allows her to defy fate itself. Which is ridiculous. Nothing is predestined. It just happens. 

She calls it a curse. Some say it is a gift, and still she would agree. It is indeed a Gift. 

...

This second-hand power also makes her useful for missions which would otherwise be considered suicidal. When it started doesn’t matter: it’s been her life for so long. Her wounds and bumps say as much. 

Someone needs her, so she’s there. Another person decides they need her more, so she’s taken. She never protests because it’s useless; but escaping isn’t. 

Being one who avoids death, she hears many, useful things. Not all the time, though. 

Most people don’t bother addressing a monologue to a dead body, no matter what books would have you think. 

Still, it doesn’t stop people from trying. 

...

Despite her involvements, it’s impossible to keep her in one place. Allegiances, loyalty, friendship. They all seem to be irrelevant to her. Indeed, if one were to look up “turncoat” in the dictionary, her photo... would not be there, but you thought of her when you read the description, didn’t you?

Some might argue that it isn’t accurate. Things do not have allegiances. They’re used by what owns them. If they’re lost or stolen, then used for something else...

You need her, not because you want her, but because someone else does. 

...

As death avoids her, she finds other ways to pass the time. She likes looking at pictures- storybooks, photographs, maps. She’s never seen so much colors outside of her body. 

...

Something like her, raised to provide and nothing more, finds it difficult to come to terms with “being” a “person”. Without an education, or even time for her to exist within herself, deeper thoughts have been out of her grasp for many years.

She was aware that the other things around her, doing things to her, were similar to herself. They were serving different roles. 

But... well, she doesn’t understand. Everyone is so apart from her. 

Out of everything in the world, the only thing she’s sure is real is herself. 

Is that what being a person is?

...does it even matter?

...

She has a fondness for children, especially the very young. Indeed, there is a fluidity to her movements when she is around them. They feel real.

Dear things; ornaments of the soul. 

( the scar feels like it’s going to burst open bleeding all over again. )

...

Power does not corrupt; power reveals. 

When you give someone the power to do what they always wanted to do, you see what they always wanted to do. 

A woman who, no matter how badly hurt, always comes back brand new... everything is revealed to her. 

[knightinoldarmor]

@detonizing asked:

4. do you prefer to plot a ship, or would you rather “wing it”? 12. do you ship any rarepair? 31. do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship?

SHIPPING QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN - SFW EDITION!

4. do you prefer to plot a ship, or would you rather “wing it”?

Plotting sometimes doesn't work out: what we have in mind doesn't always work with our muses ( assuming we don't have control over them but they have control over us, if you get what I mean ). I've had plenty of experiences where plotting didn't work out as expected ( for better or worse, sometimes something even greater develops or it ends up not working at all ), but I've had some great plotting experiences too. My point? I prefer either winging it or discussing the intent to ship our muses together. But most times through writing the ship takes the form it's supposed to have.

12. do you ship any rarepair?

I'll stick to Shoto answers since he's the one you're familiar with. And I do. My favorite, Iida and Shoto: Iida ships seem not to be much popular I admit ( and Iida in general ) even if I think he's one of the most interesting characters and his bond with Shoto is one of the most deep. Iida is saved and moved by Shoto's words back in the Stain arc and their friendship develops into something very deep as we see the two of them and Midoriya spend time together and support each other. The ship isn't much popular but in the latest chapters Horikoshi is finally giving us more ‘screentime’. After the reveal of Dabi's identity, Iida is there to support Shoto ( Iida's older brother is his hero while Shoto's the criminal he's responsible to stop ) both emotionally and in his battle against Toya, something that melts my heart who absolutely adores the two of them. Finally, they have the attention they deserve.

31. do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship?

Hm, for Shoto specifically I don't think I could decide on one. I've written some great ships with some incredible writers in the years I write him, and to admit, I've been lucky enough to write too much todobaku. The first Bakugo writer and the first I wrote Shoto with, my friend Elijah (@wonderspectacles ) who used to write Bakugo, a wonderful Dabi/Bakugo writer I sadly lost contact with ( and I'm looking forward to writing more with you, your writing is just GREAT! ).

Special mention to my active Shoto mains, Madi ( @ofsavior ) who made me love todomomo as we've been building their relationship for years, Mona (@withsorrowandregret ) and her wonderful Izuku I've been searching for so long, Trist (@ofdetonation ) who writes one of the most accurate portrayals I've read, and Dandi (@ofstowaways ) who is herself a day of sunshine and so is her Ochako to my Shoto.

One more special mention to @luxaeterna and the million threads we've been writing all these years, the most amazing Eren to my Levi who has helped me in developing him when I was about to give up on him, their Bakugo to my Shoto, Shota to my Toya, Giyuu to Mikaela, Haru to Daisuke, Erwin to Levi I MEAN??? If there's a ship to write I've definitely written it with him, who's been providing me with the most wonderful threads to make me melt every time. If there's a partner I've written the most ships with, that's him and I love him for all the love we've written together, the delicate sentiments we have explored in the many different interactions we've tried together.

[my-weird-news]

🔥 Oppenheimer: From Nukes to Trending! 😮

Nuclear Nonsense: A Comedy of Catastrophic Proportions Before the bomb, humanity's knack for destruction was like a sitcom that only non-humans were allowed to participate in. We're talking floods, plagues, and divine acts of cleanup on aisle Earth. Sure, we could picture Mother Nature throwing tantrums and nature's fury causing chaos, but when it came to ending the show, our role was more like a forgettable side character. No button-pushing villain who could bring down the curtain on the human race in a snap. Oh, but then along came nuclear power, and suddenly we were handed the detonator to blow up entire cities like oversized birthday cakes. Scientists, in their infinite wisdom, realized we could even accidentally set the sky ablaze while trying to flex our newfound atomic muscles. It was like giving a toddler a bazooka and hoping they wouldn't blow up the living room. And guess what? Pandora's box just threw in the towel. J. Robert Oppenheimer, the brain behind the bomb, exclaimed, "I'm now Death, the cosmic party pooper!" (Okay, maybe he said it with more gravity, but you get the gist.) Imagine the shock! Anyone from Joe Schmo to Jane Doe suddenly had the potential to turn us all into cosmic confetti. Existential crisis level: expert mode. We're talking not just the fear of instant doom but also a sense that the universe had run amok. With a deity, you could kneel and beg for mercy. But human beings? We all know how stubbornly ludicrous we can be. Even if you tried to shove thoughts of global obliteration under the mental rug, you'd be stuck with a permanent itch of anxiety, like that one popcorn kernel wedged in your teeth after the movies. Speaking of movies, Hollywood's always been the ultimate therapy couch for our fears. The bomb and its bombastic world waltzed back into our cinematic spotlight, from "Manhattan" to "Asteroid City" to "Oppenheimer: The Sequel." But this is a dance that's been going on since forever. No surprise that during the Cold War, the era of bomb-tastic paranoia, filmmakers were on a destruction binge—like Black Friday shoppers at an apocalypse megastore. Take "Fail Safe" (1964), for instance, a film where technological fiascos and nuclear whoopsies lead to an explosion of international proportions. The characters debate if wiping out the world is the ultimate way to evict Communism from the party. But hold onto your fallout shelters, because computers mess up and suddenly it's raining nukes on innocent folks. Cold War cinema was all about serious pondering of human folly, but then there's "Dr. Strangelove" (1964), Kubrick's laugh-out-loud lesson that the end of the world might just be thanks to some very anxious, very, um, inadequately equipped men. Flash-forward to the '80s. Movies like "The Day After" and "Threads" kept the nuclear anxiety fire burning. Even Japan got in on the action, producing atomic-inspired epics like "Godzilla" (not the one where he battles a pizza delivery guy, though). Amidst all the doom and gloom, some films dared to tease the edge of sanity without tumbling into the abyss. "WarGames" (1983), a tale of teenage hackers and their accidental playdate with Armageddon, stole Reagan's heart, because who doesn't enjoy a little close call with global extinction? Back in the day, nuclear threats were as common as mullets, and kids did their nuclear drills with the same gusto as they practiced fire drills. Fast forward again, and we're in a world where nuclear nightmares are as rare as unicorns, or at least as rare as functional self-checkout machines. The Soviet Union vanished, and we stopped practicing the "under the desk" Olympics. The bomb's not completely forgotten, but let's face it, these days we're more concerned about tracking our steps on Fitbits than tracking thermonuclear warfare. Still, we've made a U-turn back to the birth of our atomic playground, perhaps to deal with our modern conundrums. We're living in Oppenheimer's world, the power of the gods in our hands. It's like giving your dog the car keys and hoping they won't crash into a fire hydrant. We're swamped in the feeling that doom's a-swirlin' around every corner, which Wes Anderson's "Asteroid City" gets all too well. Bomb tests pop up like surprise birthday parties, just more explosive. And then there's "Oppenheimer," a movie that's less about biographies and more about the boom of power—atomic power, geopolitical power, power to make you question your own power lunch choices. In a nutshell, Oppenheimer's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of nuclear musings, a reflection of how we became the cosmic game masters. But here's the kicker: we tell ourselves stories about our atomic prowess that are as nutty as a squirrel on an espresso binge. We're terrified, yet we tiptoe around the dread like it's a sleeping bear. But, like any good show, the curtain must rise, and now we're caught in a web of apocalyptic worries, waiting for the grand finale. We're the gods and the end of the line, and the world's biggest punchline. 🍿🔥💣# Nuclear Nonsense: A Comedy of Catastrophic Proportions Before the bomb, humanity's knack for destruction was like a sitcom that only non-humans were allowed to participate in. We're talking floods, plagues, and divine acts of cleanup on aisle Earth. Sure, we could picture Mother Nature throwing tantrums and nature's fury causing chaos, but when it came to ending the show, our role was more like a forgettable side character. No button-pushing villain who could bring down the curtain on the human race in a snap. Oh, but then along came nuclear power, and suddenly we were handed the detonator to blow up entire cities like oversized birthday cakes. Scientists, in their infinite wisdom, realized we could even accidentally set the sky ablaze while trying to flex our newfound atomic muscles. It was like giving a toddler a bazooka and hoping they wouldn't blow up the living room. And guess what? Pandora's box just threw in the towel. J. Robert Oppenheimer, the brain behind the bomb, exclaimed, "I'm now Death, the cosmic party pooper!" (Okay, maybe he said it with more gravity, but you get the gist.) Imagine the shock! Anyone from Joe Schmo to Jane Doe suddenly had the potential to turn us all into cosmic confetti. Existential crisis level: expert mode. We're talking not just the fear of instant doom but also a sense that the universe had run amok. With a deity, you could kneel and beg for mercy. But human beings? We all know how stubbornly ludicrous we can be. Even if you tried to shove thoughts of global obliteration under the mental rug, you'd be stuck with a permanent itch of anxiety, like that one popcorn kernel wedged in your teeth after the movies. Speaking of movies, Hollywood's always been the ultimate therapy couch for our fears. The bomb and its bombastic world waltzed back into our cinematic spotlight, from "Manhattan" to "Asteroid City" to "Oppenheimer: The Sequel." But this is a dance that's been going on since forever. No surprise that during the Cold War, the era of bomb-tastic paranoia, filmmakers were on a destruction binge—like Black Friday shoppers at an apocalypse megastore. Take "Fail Safe" (1964), for instance, a film where technological fiascos and nuclear whoopsies lead to an explosion of international proportions. The characters debate if wiping out the world is the ultimate way to evict Communism from the party. But hold onto your fallout shelters, because computers mess up and suddenly it's raining nukes on innocent folks. Cold War cinema was all about serious pondering of human folly, but then there's "Dr. Strangelove" (1964), Kubrick's laugh-out-loud lesson that the end of the world might just be thanks to some very anxious, very, um, inadequately equipped men. Flash-forward to the '80s. Movies like "The Day After" and "Threads" kept the nuclear anxiety fire burning. Even Japan got in on the action, producing atomic-inspired epics like "Godzilla" (not the one where he battles a pizza delivery guy, though). Amidst all the doom and gloom, some films dared to tease the edge of sanity without tumbling into the abyss. "WarGames" (1983), a tale of teenage hackers and their accidental playdate with Armageddon, stole Reagan's heart, because who doesn't enjoy a little close call with global extinction? Back in the day, nuclear threats were as common as mullets, and kids did their nuclear drills with the same gusto as they practiced fire drills. Fast forward again, and we're in a world where nuclear nightmares are as rare as unicorns, or at least as rare as functional self-checkout machines. The Soviet Union vanished, and we stopped practicing the "under the desk" Olympics. The bomb's not completely forgotten, but let's face it, these days we're more concerned about tracking our steps on Fitbits than tracking thermonuclear warfare. Still, we've made a U-turn back to the birth of our atomic playground, perhaps to deal with our modern conundrums. We're living in Oppenheimer's world, the power of the gods in our hands. It's like giving your dog the car keys and hoping they won't crash into a fire hydrant. We're swamped in the feeling that doom's a-swirlin' around every corner, which Wes Anderson's "Asteroid City" gets all too well. Bomb tests pop up like surprise birthday parties, just more explosive. And then there's "Oppenheimer," a movie that's less about biographies and more about the boom of power—atomic power, geopolitical power, power to make you question your own power lunch choices. In a nutshell, Oppenheimer's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of nuclear musings, a reflection of how we became the cosmic game masters. But here's the kicker: we tell ourselves stories about our atomic prowess that are as nutty as a squirrel on an espresso binge. We're terrified, yet we tiptoe around the dread like it's a sleeping bear. But, like any good show, the curtain must rise, and now we're caught in a web of apocalyptic worries, waiting for the grand finale. We're the gods and the end of the line, and the world's biggest punchline. 🍿🔥💣 Read the full article