#I guess if you don’t see the vision you don’t see the vision

[artbyhoneycutt]

Other than the lie you just admitted to telling, where is the lie you told? Glad you asked! It’s the central claim that you just reiterated, that George Lucas “was trying to screw her out of credit for the film in the most divorced way possible.”

The reasons Lucas had for re-editing his films are as follows: he wanted to refine the technology for the prequels. And he also wanted to complete his vision for the original films. And he wanted to clean up the original film negatives for preservation. And yes, he probably also saw a commercial opportunity to make money from the 20th anniversary rerelease. None of these were the only reason for making changes to the films. That they were all at play at the same time is the result of Lucas seeing an opportunity where he could achieve multiple artistic, technological, and business goals with one project: finishing his films.

This is why the changes he made to A New Hope were things he was dissatisfied with all the way back when he was making the film in 1977. Things like unsatisfactory special effects, and scenes they couldn’t complete like the introduction to Mos Eisley as a proper city, or the Jabba scene.

This is beside the point, but guess who was disappointed they had to cut the Jabba scene from the theatrical release? Marcia Lucas.

From a Rolling Stone interview George Lucas did in August 1977: “THX was about 70% of what I wanted it to be. I don’t think you ever get to the point where it is 100%. Graffiti was about 50% of what I wanted it to be but I realized that the other 50% would have been there, if I just had a little more time and a little more money. Star Wars is about 25% of what I wanted it to be. It’s really down there quite a bit. It’s still a good movie, but it fell so short of what I wanted it to be. And everyone said, ‘Well, Jesus, George, you wanted the moon for Chrissake, or you wanted to land on Pluto and you landed on Mars.’”

— https://www.rollingstone.com/feature/george-lucas-the-wizard-of-star-wars-2-232011/

And you can see by watching A New Hope with your own eyes that while Lucas did make extensive changes to some scenes, he actually paid careful attention to preserving the shot-to-shot cuts that Marcia had made when she originally edited the Death Star battle. That sequence was the main contribution Marcia made to the film before she left the project in November 1976 to edit New York New York for Martin Scorsese. She came back to Star Wars in May 1977 to do some minor touch-ups to the final cut that was otherwise entirely overseen by George, Richard Chew, and Paul Hirsch. All of this is thoroughly documented publicly available information that you can read about further in J.W. Rinzler’s “Making of Star Wars” books and Dale Pollock’s “Skywalking: The Life and Films of George Lucas.”

Compare this meticulous attention to the original momentary editing on the Death Star battle to the much more extensive re-editing of the The Phantom Menace — a film that Marcia Lucas had no involvement. The opening flag parade before the podrace and second lap are greatly extended, the puppet Yoda is replaced entirely with a computer-animated Yoda, and the entire picture was given a new color grade on the Blu-ray. And in Attack of the Clones, the Coruscant chase and escape of Count Dooku were significantly re-cut.

Again, neither of these films were edited by Marcia, and yet their revisions are far more extensive than any sequence in the original trilogy that she worked on. And to be clear, on both the original trilogy and prequel trilogy, it is entirely George Lucas’ prerogative to do what he did, because they are his films that he created and (at the time) owned.

Your claim that George Lucas was only re-editing his films to erase the contributions of Marcia Lucas precludes all of these objective truths about what his motivations and artistic process are actually like, and I think that these falsehoods represent a fundamental problem with how you understand film history and film as an art form. And I think it would be better for yourself to re-examine your ignorance about this, and better for culture as a whole if others who currently think like you do would do the same re-examination unto themselves.

the internet consensus these days is that the george lucas hate of the last few decades was overblown which is kinda true but george still deserves all the shit for ‘fixing’ (aka removing and digitally redoing) the groundbreaking special effects work that won that team Oscars in 1978. 

because of this, you literally cannot buy a restored copy of the original theatrical release with the oscar-winning effects intact, and it’s because george always had beef with the original effects artists and wanted to discredit their work. it’s really sad because his revisions of history worked! one of those effect supervisors who got an Oscar, Robert Blalack, died this year and was honored in memorium at the 2022 Oscars. but the effects they showed to honor him (the death star sequence) actually weren’t his original work at all, but digital effects redone by george in 1997. george lucas was always too comfortable to discredit others work and legacy on the basis that it was his sole creative vision that others were merely working on. it was shitty to artists and shitty for the culture. Disney is a different type of evil toward creativity but george did more than his fair share of playing dirty too and that shouldn’t be forgotten

[rinachains]

contents: drabble; villain!nanami x gn!curse user!reader; aftermath of nanami’s killing spree; inspired by gege’s sketch of villain!nanami

a/n: sth short to get out of my writing slump :P comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @/cafekitsune

A whistle cuts through the lingering, rapturous silence as you make your way through the now lifeless place, the heavy clacking of your boots leaving an echo, “You’ve made quite a mess, Nanami. Guess you were pretty pent up, huh?”

It’s a vision of red that greets you as you enter the office room  – piles upon piles of nameless, immobile bodies, adorned with deep slashes and dark colours, reminding you all too much of an obscure painting; done with raw, mechanical passion. You find the artist of this peculiar work slumped against a desk on the cold ground, appearing like a breathing corpse under the flickering, fluorescent light.

Tracing the tips of your fingers along one of the desks, collecting the sticky fluid staining it, you put your hands into the pockets of your jacket and stroll forward until you stand in front of him, staring down with a curl of your lips as you let your gaze wander over his limp form. Covered in blood, sweat and weariness; a pathetic yet sweet image, dissolving on the tip of your tongue. You crave it like a child.

Nanami looks up at you wordlessly, exhaustion dripping from his eyes; not an unusual sight, but this time you find something new making itself known in those hazel pools, a shivering spark that is more than familiar to you – one that you’ve seen before when you’ve met your own reflection.

The sunken shadows decorating his face slowly melt in the light that shines through. Nanami’s worn out; not from added weight, but from the relief sinking into his bones. His body feels light, tense limbs turned to cotton; as if he’s floating, not quite there, but rather stuck in another realm. Is this what it feels like to be reborn?

“I killed them.”

His futile confession raises your brow as you swiftly scan the the room before turning back to him, “You sure did.”

Nanami’s face pinches together as he groans, a guttural sound from the depths of his festered chest, his head falling back against the edge of the desk behind him with dimmed thud. He rubs the heel of his hand over his closed eyes, pressing into the lids, “I’m so tired.”

There’s a moment of quietness.

Your stare narrows and bores into Nanami with a scrutiny that allows you to unmask him, peel away each fragile layer that covers his decaying bones, and there you can see it; the utter helplessness radiating from him, ripe and desperate– a silent plea.

Something in your chest melts, once cold and heavy, and turns into goo, pouring over your body and covering each and every cell. Your smile widens, toothy and all sharp, stretching until your skin begins to tighten.  

You finally got him.

With golden honey in your mouth, you lower yourself carefully to the floor and get down on one knee in front of him, face to face, resting your arm on your propped leg. You can smell him; unscented soap and herbal tea overpowered by his rich cologne, now fused with a metallic scent, a new note. Not nauseating to him, not as expected; instead, it’s bizarrely welcoming, nearly soothing. His flared up nerves become numb and he wants to rest, just for a moment.

“Post-killing clarity can be harsh - not that I can necessarily relate, but for someone like you it’s a whole new experience. It will get better after some time, so don’t worry,” you try to reassure him, petting his knee.

Your expression then softens, cautious and deliberate, like an owner talking to their wounded pet, devoid of any judgement that would cause him to pull away, “How do you feel?” A small pause. “Do you regret it?”

A tilt of your head, lowered and evaluating, focused entirely on him – ignoring the impulsive massacre around you, as if it’s not of any grave importance to you, the background to a play. The object of your undivided attention is right in front of you; the reason you're here, why you've bothered to waste your energy.

The next words to come out of his mouth cause your back to straighten, spine prickling as your eyes brighten with a childlike gleam.

“I don’t.”

"Good."

You shift and cradle his face in your hand, leaving behind a maroon stain on his sunken cheekbone, bringing life to him, as you gently rub your thumb over his sickly pale skin. Nanami subconsciously leans into your touch, the hairs on his skin standing up and his eyelids fluttering like a newborn butterfly as he exhales brokenly. You revel in the shudder he releases; he really is just so tired.

Pulling away from his face, almost cooing as he chases after your touch, you hold out your hand, palm facing up, "C'mon then. Let's get you cleaned up, you're all dirty." His gaze drops to it, a contemplative hesitation freezing him as he sees the bloodstains on you. He has soiled you with the result of his sin, and yet there's no guilt to be found as he rummages through his insides, tearing through muscles, veins and arteries. It’s too late for that anyway, Nanami thinks as he reaches out for you.

The wavering warmth of his hand embraces yours - shared burdens, no longer untethered - sealing an unspoken bond between the two of you. Not something that can be easily undone – not something that can be undone at all.

You begin to stand up and he lowers his grip, fingers tightening around your wrist.

There’s a tremor in his lower lip, yet his voice is steady, as firm as a lighthouse hit by a storm and piercing through you with the pointed force of each syllable, “I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

Your head moves up and down, slowly, as you reply leisurely, “Yeah, I got that.” Letting out a light sigh, feigning empathy, you point at him with your chin, "I told you, didn’t I? That it would feel so much better to let loose and to listen to your instincts. Now you don’t have to carry that burden anymore – you’re free of it.”

Nanami bites the inside of his cheek, deepening the hollow line. "That’s right,” he eventually agrees. You want to laugh, heartfelt and soul-shaking; you knew he’d understand. He clears his throat, running a hand through his matted hair as his forehead creases, "…what do I do now?"

"Who knows?" You shrug. "But I'll be by your side. I guess I also have to take some responsibility in this case."  

Another pause. Less strained, more tranquilizing.

“I need a drink.”

“Then let’s get one.”

Finally, there’s a faint smile from him; one of relief, tinged with drops of gratitude, lasting only for a fleeting second, but it’s enough for you. This is what you've been longing for, what you've been attempting to bring forth.

He swallows, a stuttering bob of his prominent Adam’s apple, “I didn’t think,” he momentarily directs his stare towards one of the bodies, “I just moved. I saw their faces and I wanted them gone. Wipe those smiles away.”

“And you’ve done a great job at that,” you affirm. Your nose wrinkles, “Quite careless of you, though. You should be more careful next time, okay? You’re still responsible for your own actions, y’know.”

“I will,” Nanami says as he stands up on jellied legs, shakily regaining strength. “Be more careful, I mean.”

You squeeze his hand before letting it fall back to his side, “Alright, then. Better stay true to your word.”

Just as you're about to turn and lead him out, you stop abruptly as you hear a mumbled, "I'm sorry.”

You blink, “What?”

Nanami weakly points to your form, lips thinned as he frowns. You follow his hand and glance down your body - your suit is dirty.

“Don’t apologise,” you wave him off with a twitch of your mouth, “I don’t mind.”

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

lowk FUCKED up, butttttttttttttt would any of the comic book yanderes lobotomize their darling? we always talkin about willingness and shit saur... ya know!! just a lil off the top if ykwim

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒…

!!! GN reader, take a wild guess (lobotomies), neurological terms used, basic delusional behaviors, unethical uses of superpowers, unethical practices in general, mentions of brain dead/vegetative/mentally handicapped reader, Hal’s part briefly describes actual lobotomy procedures, Joker jumpscare in Harvey’s, gaslighting, a small history lesson here and there, themes of forced drug abuse, Tim Drake being a good candidate for the Saw franchise.

GRRRRAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHGHHHRRR. Anon, come over here so I can give you a lil forehead smooch. I’ve always wanted to write a yan lobotomy blurb, but… I didn’t really know what direction I wanted to go. Or who to write about. The idea is was legit, “hee hee, wouldn’t it be silly if there was a yandere lobotomy fic” and that’s about it. So I guess this is my chance to get some feelings out about that, yay!!

A few of these are a bit longer than usual cuz this type of shit is my jam. I also didn’t know if you wanted me to rank them on least to most likely, so shoot me a follow up ask if that’s what you wanted. Mwah!!

Bruce Wayne: Definitely not off the table. I’m willing to bet Thomas Wayne had at least one book on lobotomies; just an antique hardback that makes for an interesting read. I can see young Bruce sitting on his father’s lap in the study, tiny hands tracing over the book’s old diagrams as Thomas lovingly describes all of the morbid things they’d do to people (you know, classic father/son bonding activities). Who knew it would actually come in handy one day? Moral repercussions be damned, my man can pull off a sick lobotomy. There are of course factors he has no control over — such as your own brain plasticity and cognitive function — but that’s not exactly his fault, now is it? What your brain decides to do post-lobotomy has nothing to do with him (jokes aside, he’d be devastated if you were totally fucked up afterwards… though he’d easily adapt).

Bucky Barnes: I think he’s had enough mind-meddling of his own to give this a hard pass. It doesn’t matter how bad you are; he’s not doing anything to your brain. You’ll learn to behave on your own accord. And thank god, cuz bro would NOT make a good brain surgeon. He’d brick you so fast. Also, fun fact, the Soviets were actually the first to ban lobotomies (if memory serves correct; Google is backing me up, so… do with that what you will). I don’t know if this carries over to the KGB and their little secret evil organization side shenanigans, but yeah. Let it be known that the chances of lobotomized Bucky went down by… like… 3%.

Clark Kent: At first, I was about to say no, but then I remembered the Justice Lords from the JL cartoon, and… you know what? Maybe. It would be a very low chance, but if it’s gotten to the point where you’re a danger to yourself, Clark would have no other choice. What else can he do? Your safety always comes first and foremost. While the two dots singed into your forehead would raise a few brows, it’s not like he lets you out much anyway. He’d spend a long time trying to cope with the guilt. He did this to save you… he just had to save you from yourself. At least his heat vision is precise enough that he wouldn’t fuck it up. Now all that’s left to do is hope that you turn out okay. He’ll consider it a job well done if you can at least still smile at him.

Dick Grayson: He really isn’t that much different from Bruce, is he? Yeah, he’d do it. Maybe with a few more reservations, but he’d still do it. I think it’s in your best interest if you don’t let him spiral this far, because he’s not against the idea of you being in a completely vegetative state. Yeah, it would suck that you aren’t as active of a participant as he’d want you to be, but having complete control over your care is good enough for him. He’ll easily let his own delusions fill that void. Honestly, a part of him might even hope you turn out with a mental capacity of a toddler. It’s the best of both worlds; while you can still respond to your environment, you also rely heavily on his care. Perfectly pliable in his hands… a dream come true! Yay!

Hal Jordan: Nah. He’s good. Last he checked, he’s not the most qualified person in the world to quite literally poke around in someone’s brain. Hell, even the thought of it makes him sick. No drilling holes into skulls, no skewering needles through eye sockets, no thanks! He’ll leave that up to the people who can stomach the grosser shit. Now, is the thought of a quick operation that theoretically fixes your bratty behavior tempting? Sure. But Hal’s not an idiot; he knows the risks, and those risks just don’t seem worth it. There’s a reason lobotomies are unethical nowadays. Unless the topic comes up in some sort of show or movie, the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.

Harvey Dent: Neither Harvey nor Two Face are all that keen on the idea. They might’ve done some fucked up shit to you (definitely Two Face more than Harvey), but a lobotomy? That’s just a new level of fucked up. A Joker level of fucked up, even (and the thought of being compared to that piece of shit makes both sides of Dent want to light up an entire room). Besides, there’s no one on the entire planet he’d trust to pull off a procedure like that on you. While he might know a guy or two who would totally do it in this day and age, he’d sooner put a bullet in their brain than let them fuck around with yours. That being said, don’t think you’re totally out of the woods. At the end of the day, it’s all up to the coin, remember?

Jaime Reyes: Would Jaime? No. Absolutely not. It’s unethical, it’s fucked, and it’s also just gross. Anything to do with surgery makes him feel extremely squeamish, and he might actually pass out if he thinks about it too hard. But would Khaji Da? Yeah. Probably. Though it would have to be an extreme scenario, where you’re just completely beyond controlling. Khaji Da knows the risks, and while he’ll execute the technical aspects flawlessly, the results are naturally unpredictable. It would be unfortunate if the scarab lost its host’s mate. Your poor little noggin is at the mercy of Jaime’s resolve. Is he in full control? Then don’t worry, his incoherent mutterings about severing connections in your prefrontal cortex are nothing but his weird intrusive thoughts. But… if he isn’t… uh-oh.

Peter Parker: Nope. No lobotomies here. He’s quite aware of the repercussions, both morally and practically. Honestly, he doesn’t even see most of your behaviors as something in need of correcting in the first place. Maybe if you were causing yourself any sort of harm, but other than that, he can put up with a lot of your bullshit. Talking back? Name calling? Hitting and kicking? Straight-up just being abusive? As long as you don’t leave him, he’ll work with it! Peter is the exact definition of a pushover yandere. You can get away with a lot, and that includes not getting lobotomy!

Reed Richards: I can see him pulling one off. Is it the most desirable outcome? Definitely not. But there’s only so much he can put up with before he finally puts his foot down. If you’re the insubordinate type, you’ve probably given him at least 17 heart attacks by now, and it’s only natural he’d come up with a way to curb those behaviors. See, me personally, if I were to get a lobotomy from any of these men, I’m calling up Reed. He’s no neurologist, but I’m sure he can whip up something to study your brain waves and accurately predict the outcome of a lobotomy. Plus, he’d probably have the safest environment and instruments for the operation. You won’t feel a thing, trust. Now let’s hope months of collecting data and trial runs on some less-than-willing test subjects pay off!

Remy LeBeau: Yeah, no… probably not. Thanks to Sinister, he knows first hand how invasive a lobotomy is. You’d have to be really unstable for him to even consider that idea. He definitely has the means to do it — all he has to do is put a finger up to your forehead and burn through your frontal lobe — but having the resolve to do it is a different story. While he might’ve turned out semi-okay post-lobotomy, there’s no telling what would happen after yours. Way too risky. Only something to consider as a totally nuclear option. So don’t make him do something he’d rather not, okay? It’d be better for you, better for him, better for everyone.

Scott Summers: Like Gambit, he’s a victim of Sinister’s fuckery but 10 times worse. I don’t think he’d be able to stomach the thought of doing anything surgical to you no matter how disobedient you are. But… maybe we can make this a little interesting. Scott’s attracted some hella weird attention over the years… who’s to say someone like Sinister wouldn’t get his hands on you and do a little fucking around? Maybe Goblin Queen? A particularly pissed off Phoenix? While Scott himself wouldn’t dare lobotomize you, I think there’s some people out there who would. Or, hear me out: mind controlled Cyclops almost crushing your skull with an optic blast. It would be more blunt force than an actual lobotomy, but I’m willing to bet it would fuck up your cognitive function all the same. Despite the immense horror and guilt he’d feel afterwards, a small part of him can see it as a blessing in disguise (depending on how you turn out, that is).

Steve Rogers: Honestly, Cap was frozen at the funniest point in history ever. The amount of lobotomies increased exponentially from the 40s to 50s (mind you, WWII ended in 1945), and then antipsychotics were introduced as a more ethical way to treat mental illness, which Steve wouldn’t know shit about. Unfortunately for all of my fellow sickos out there, lobotomies were probably never a thing Steve liked about the 40s, but allow me to offer an alternative. Steve thinks there’s clearly something wrong with your mental health; why else would you act like you hate him? Luckily for him, this is the 21st century, where people know much more about mental illnesses and disorders. He could easily pull some strings as Captain America and get you the help you so obviously need. So, I guess the question is, how many different prescriptions of antipsychotics can one take at once? Guess you’ll find out!

Tim Drake: So… uh… y’all better pray that he doesn’t get any intrusive thoughts about this shit. And if he does, PRAY that he snaps out of his weird fit before it’s too late. DO NOT LET BRO COOK. I don’t think he’d totally fuck it up or anything, but the chances of him spiraling and performing more than one are dangerously high. You might find the out hard way just how much poking and prodding a brain can take before it shuts down. Depending on how manic he is, he might actually lobotomize you while you’re conscious. No anesthesia, no painkillers, just him pouncing on you with a hammer and pick. You will be rawdogging this lobotomy like god intended. That’s when he’d fuck your shit up. Unless you want him to brick your brain, you better fight him off and wrestle those tools out of his hands. The post-manic episode clarity would be insane. “Uh… sorry I tried to give you a lobotomy.” Cool, man. Okay.

Wally West: Wally “if you need to give someone a lobotomy, that’s honestly a skill issue” West. Who needs that shit when you’re THE master manipulator? It would take some god-tier perception (or paranoia) to see through a fraction of his act, and even so, what good will any of that do when he’s got everyone else wrapped around his finger? Fighting against him is a dangerous game. If need be, he’ll play the loving caretaker while you’re the loony one. Poor Wally… he’s trying to help you through your issues, and this is the thanks he gets? Wow. Now, for the sake of a little exploration, I think it’s important to note that Wally could theoretically go through with it (by phasing his hand through your skull and solidifying at the right angle), but that sounds way too unstable to pull off. It would probably run the risk of turning your brain into a soup, and I’m pretty sure that kills people.

[mangionebabymama]

On some real shit though, I want to put this out there:

Thank you so, so much for all of your love and support that you’ve given me and all that I’ve been able to give back to so many of you in return these last few days. I should have known once that I started seeing more Luigi memes and reels of all sorts of my social media a few weeks ago, it was a sign of something. I’m wholly invested in this case, for a multitude of reasons, across different approaches and, though I’ve said this so many times, it’s something about his story that reels me in like no other. I don’t know what the unforeseeable future will exactly hold this year, but my only wish that it brings Luigi closer to freedom and vindication, and the confirmation that he is loved and supported by many.

I’m kind of even surprised that I’d ever go out this far and make a dedicated blog on Tumblr, as I’ve had the app for many years but never actually attempted to create a functional space. I know it’s not about the numbers, but to reach a 100+ followers on both blogs and have active camaraderie on here? It’s crazy. Who knew that it wouldn’t be in honor of one of my fav artists, but some nice-looking, tall, curly-haired Italian frat boy that I wish I had a chance with. The odds, right?

On italianbabydaddy, I stated, word for word, that the purpose of the blog was a safe space for me to let the imagination run wild through posting my simp-fueled dreams and horny thoughts, and I guess now I’ve made that my trademark on here—and a lot of people are rallying behind me on that one. Thank you for engaging with me, interacting with me, talking to me about lore, fawning over the most precious visions/dreams/wishes you have about Luigi, and enjoying my little imagines and ideas that go on in my mind. But also, thank you for being vulnerable and comfortable enough to join me, along with many others, on a platform like this to stand in solidarity and show your support for him, too.

I am honored that some of you have reached out to me and said how my blog makes your day, teaches you something entirely new, or that my writing is entertaining—because that last part, along with everything, means a lot. I’m hoping maybe by joining this community, I’ll learn to develop a better relationship with self-reflecting on my skills of writing and stop putting myself so far down that I lose my love for it. I’m nowhere near a defense attorney or Luigi Mangione historian, but one of my main goals of this blog (beside all the simping) is to spread awareness, provide evidence, and bring knowledge about his story in all honesty. There’s a lot of stories about him going around that are lacking in truthfulness and sincerity right now, and it’s so important that we find spaces and talk about things in the correct way. We have to continue to say his name and keep talking.

I really planned for this post to just be a paragraph or two, but if you made it this far, then I really love you and appreciate you, beyond words that I possibly could ever come up with. Thank you thank you thank you 🥺

[sunnysidesevenup]

Moonlight Song: Chapter 1

“Hurry, henchman! I’m hungry!”

Yuichi sighs, readjusting his grip on his bag. Grim is tugging at his clothes, impatient as always, and honestly he just wants to skip dinner and go take a nap. Not that his silly dorm companion would ever allow something as heinous as skipping a meal. Maybe he can convince Grim to go by himself…?

Unlikely.

“I’m coming, just hold on a minute.” He says, Grim rushing ahead of him. He attempts to hurry after his dorm mate, but instead collides near instantly with someone coming around the corner. Both Yuichi and whoever he slammed into hit the floor, and Grim immediately appears near them.

“Hey! Watch where you’re—MWAH?! IT’S THE POMEFIORE LEECH TWIN!” Grim instantly cuts his scolding off the minute he sees the guy on the floor glaring at the two of them, and ducks behind Yuichi.

“Don’t compare me to the Leeches, we look nothing alike.” Arlo immediately scolds. “And we’re not related at all, this is why you’re failing your tests, isn’t it?”

“Wha… how does he know that…”

Yuichi deigns not to reveal to Grim that it’s probably just a reasonable guess.

Instead, he decides to defuse the oncoming fight, considering the Pomefiore second year has seemed to recover from his fall but is now looking more and more annoyed. He brushes off his clothes, standing back up. “Sorry for knocking you over, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He says.

Arlo looks him over, and then nods, seeming to find him genuine. “Sure. I wasn’t paying attention, either. Keep your… cat under control, though.”

“I’m not a cat!” Grim immediately yells, indignant.

“What are you, then? I see a cat.”

“Get your eyes checked!”

“Oh?” The mer tilts his head, tone lowering threateningly. “Do you think something is truly wrong with my vision? I’m not in the mood, so spit it out if you do.” His tone makes it very, very apparent that Grim should stop talking, so Yuichi, once again, is on damage control.

He scoops the cat back up into his arms, “He really doesn’t—sorry again.”

Arlo’s glare doesn’t fade. Instead, he just crosses his arms, staring at them with a piercing look and not saying anything.

“Uh…. We’ll get going, then?” Yuu says, attempting to leave before anything else happens.

“Do either of you sing?” The mer asks suddenly.

“What?! Why’re ya asking something like that, all of a sudden?” Grim questions, receiving another tilt of the head from the mer.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter… You’re not doing anything right now, are you? Great.” The shorter guy then darts forward, grabbing Yuichi by the arm and pulling him along down the hallway.

“No, no! Henchman, fight back! I want dinner!” Grim protests, struggling in his arms. A glare from the mer quickly stops the squirming, but not the complaining.

It’s not like Yuichi could pull away even if he wanted to. The guy is much stronger than he looks, and honestly kind of scary. He’d much rather just get whatever he wants over with and then return to his dorm.

Hopefully there’s food, wherever they’re going. He can’t put up with Grim’s whining for that long.

Arlo pulls them along all the way to the courtyard, and then over to a bench where, to Yuichi’s surprise, the Pomefiore housewarden is sitting. He’s scrolling on his phone, but looks up as they approach, raising an eyebrow.

“I found more people.” Arlo says, and the expression on Vil’s face sours.

“Grim and Yuu are not good candidates for a singing competition, Arlo. Go find someone else.” He tells his lowerclassman flatly.

“For a what?” Yuichi asks with mild panic. He’s ignored.

Arlo crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. “I don’t need people to be good at it, I just need them to be distracting.”

“Then why did you ask me, exactly?”

“You’d get upset if I didn’t invite you!“

“Wait, wait, hold on!” Yuichi interrupts, finally getting a word in between the two boy’s arguing, although he regrets it a bit when two duel glares turn onto him. “What’s going on? Singing competition?”

Vil turns back to his dorm member. “You need to stop dragging people around with no explanation.”

Arlo shrugs. “It’s fine. They’re not busy.”

“Did you ask?”

He doesn’t respond, instead turning to Yuichi. “There’s a festival going on in my hometown, and I got signed up for a competition. I don’t want to participate, so I’m taking other people along with me. You’ll help out, right?” The question is less a question and more of a threat, from the low way he says it.

“…Can’t you just, uh, drop out?”

Arlo gets a pinched, complicated expression on his face. “I could, but then my siblings would call me a coward. Do I look like a coward to you?”

“…er, no?” Yuichi answers hesitantly.

“Exactly. But now I need more people… three or four, maybe…” He muses to himself, and then grimaces. “I don’t want to ask anyone else.”

“I, myself, would like to find good singers.” Vil tells him, offering no room for argument. “You might be content with this, but I’m not. You shouldn’t have told me about it if you weren’t intending to do your best. Frankly, I’m considering teaching you a lesson.”

“Who says I won’t do my best? I’m not worried about myself, but how other people perform isn’t my business.”

“As your housewarden, I don’t appreciate your attitude.”

“I’d love for you to attempt to teach me manners, then—“

“OKAY! Okay. Let’s just…” Yuichi raises a palm to his head, sighing. Why, why, is he always the one playing mediator? He’s not good at that! How did this happen to him?! “So, from what I’m hearing, we need a few more people, and they should at least be decent singers, and should have time to leave campus last minute…?”

Vil nods. “Correct.”

“How are we going to get anyone like that?” He asks, already committed to helping. Not like he would be able to get out of this now, anyways.

“Why, I think I can help with that!” A deep voice says from behind them.

[mike-haters-dni]

Me when I’m a 13-year-old boy who watched the girl he fell deeply in love with die in front of him and then spent a year calling her everyday desperately trying to summon her back because he couldn’t go on without her when she miraculously shows up alive again and they finally get to be together: I’m sorry girl 😔 I love care for you 😔 but I had these friends first 😔 we can’t leave this get together even though we both want to 😔 I’ve objectively weighed my priorities and my friends have to be a little bit more important to me 😔 even though btw I��ve left you to go hang out with them before 😔 I hope you can understand 😔

Shit this is actually what y’all wanted him to act like isn’t it lmao

[cerealforkart]

Oakworthy but it’s that one issue of Teen Titans where Robin is losing his mind a little trying to clone Superboy after he died and Wondergirl comes in and says “even if you succeed you know it won’t actually be him” and Robin says “I know that but it would be something”

[mumblesplash]

getting better at drawing when you’re not trying for realism is kinda funny bc it’s like wow now my art looks even MORE like the exact midpoint between old-school disney and late 2010s anime. i didn’t think it was possible and yet i’ve done it again. inspiring

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m convinced Olympic shooters are superhuman actually

[yeyayeya]

What are your Gen 2 FE4 ships, I won't judge

Again, I have multiple ships, but these are the main ones I ship

1. Scáthach x Arthur (my ultimate rarepair, and Scáthach is one of my ultimate blorbos)

2. Seliph x Ares

3. Julia x Lana

4. Patty x Larcei

5. Lene x Fee

6. Febail x Tine

7. Diarmuid x Lester

8. Coirpre x Sara

9. Julius x Ishtar

10. Ced x Altena

11. Shannan x Oifey

12. Nanna x Leif

13. Iuchar x Dalvin

14. Iucharba x Muirne

15. Hawk x Laylea

16. Amid x Jeanne

17. Tristan x Asaello

18. Hermina x Linda

[wxywardsun]

Wildest thing supernatural ever pulled was the “two prophets can’t exist on earth at once” thing cause it results in a malformed prophet and..something something balance of the universe..something like that..I can’t remember. Like..what do you mean we can’t just have a cool prophet duo? We just deserved more prophets in general! They were so interesting and had layers to them,their whole entire concept was so cool to see and yet we saw so little of them in a sense. I just wish they were utilized a biiit more.

[octoooo]

Passing this along if you want to ~

Hello there! You've been tagged! You don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but if you'd like, list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! Learn to know your mutuals and followers! 💖💖💖

This got long like the 10ft long super sub from Regular Show

Anyway

1) ART! Definitely any type of creative outlet but specifically drawing for me. Writing is yum too but seeing my finished product makes me happier than writing it lol. I had a love-hate relationship with almost all my fics as I wrote them <3

2) TUMBLR as odd as that may sound. I dunno how but it’s the site with the least amount of toxic people that I’ve seen* Of course toxicity exists here, but it’s not in my face (unlike TikTok and Twitter where it’s thrown in my face as soon as I log on) You ever read the comments on silly Sanegiyuu tiktoks? The creator & other fans of the ship get grilled alive, it’s awful.

(*specifically in my little demon slayer bubble. A good amount of ppl I interact with are 18+ but even those who aren’t seem mature)

Anyway Umblr is fun! And I love sharing everything my brain cooks up with cool people. 🫵🏾 🐙

3) Piggybacking off the last one, MUTUALS I LOVE YOU. We’re all a similar brand of Crazy when it comes to Demon Slayer & that’s pretty cool. Even if it’s not Demon Slayer related, I just like interacting.

Followers & mutuals I loaf you dearly <3

4) SPLATOON! Fucking love Splatoon I don’t think yall know just how much I adore this game. It’s fun to play, fun to draw, fun to think about lore-wise.

I think my favorite Splatoon fact is that the Octarians lost the Great Turf War only because their Octoweapons were unplugged.

Like

That’s hilarious. That’s genius. Weapon of mass Squid Destruction is stopped by their own plug. It’s like Dr. Doofenshmirtz putting a self destruct button on all his tech.

For all the devastating lore Splatoon has, it’s also very goofy.

5) DEVILMAN CRYBABYYYY! I watched it for the first time a few weeks ago and AAUGH IM HOOKED! All I can think about,,is the final scene with Ryo & Akira I—

Lmao anyway thanks for the ask! 10 people is a lot, but I’ll slip this sticky note ask into a few people’s lunchbox

[woodsteingirl]

the beautiful world is so beautiful but it’s mildly peeving because it currently exists predominantly unedited in a single google doc that’s vaguely chronological in order but it’s like. vignettes so it would be really hard to post anywhere because i don’t write it in any order….

[amorremanet]

Truly, there is nothing exactly like the sheer level of “did we even read the same book/watch the same thing” that one feels when met with the reaction “Ewww but they’re BROTHERS” about a ship where it’s actually a plot point of pretty critical importance that A., they *AREN’T* brothers by either blood or adoption, and B., there IS NO FORMAL DEFINITION for their relationship status within their sociocultural context but whatever they are, it sure does inspire people to call them “childhood sweethearts” in a way that’s loaded with romantic innuendo and act like Character B is Character A’s ex (full romo) vs. Character A’s endgame marriage to Character C

[poppyseed799]

poppy’s origin design tip, AKA a post that nobody who reads it will get any value from because I highly doubt anyone who sees this is making origins for the minecraft origins mod:

Night vision power LITERALLY allows you to give it different strength levels. USE THAT. It’s crazy how almost every night vision origin has freaking full-bright on. This isn’t me saying “don’t give them full brightness that’s too op!” it’s actually the opposite. Having complete vision in the dark can be quite DETRIMENTAL. I have an origin I made that has full power night vision, because it’s a zombie and I wanted to replicate the stupidity zombies have of walking straight into daylight like they don’t even see it. I knew that with full brightness it’s hard to tell how lit up an area is, and I wanted that as a downside! I used the night vision as a double edged sword; yes you can see perfectly in the dark BUT you’ll have trouble differentiating between light and dark.

And the thing is, night vision as a power doesn’t have to be a double edged sword. Literally in the base mod the Feline origin has a perfect balance of night vision to where you can see in the dark just fine AND you can still tell what spots are darker/brighter than others. On that note, if you don’t want your origin to have perfect water vision, make sure you take away the night vision while they’re in water… like y’all can literally copy the feline code for the PERFECT night vision power and somehow every single night vision origin I see is so wrong. Like man.

+ the full night vision is just aesthetically not it lmao. Coming from someone who LOVES blasting my eyes with bright colors and spent much of my early minecraft years chugging night vision potions every possible second even in the nether. It doesn’t bother me much but I KNOW it’s gotta bother others. Make it subtle or at least not overbearing.

[thebibliosphere]

I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.

Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.

Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”

That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.

“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.

I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”

I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.

“Sure?”

“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”

“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”

“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”

So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.

They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,

“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”

“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.

“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.

“Not anymore.”

“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”

I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.

“This is a dream,” he informed me.

“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”

“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”

“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”

“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”

“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”

“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”

“You’re job...”

“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”

And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.

First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”

And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.

Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*