#big chicken. you understand my vision.

[murderbeast]

falin baba yaga

[breannasfluff]

Samantha Manson,

Most of your letter remains childish insults, which I shall ignore. Observe who has more maturity in this situation (not you.)

Unlike your hurtful stereotypes of rich families, I care about the animals I encounter. I suppose it’s hard to understand for someone who likely owns a chicken they treat as a pet. 

You shall have to check the Gotham News for your answer on nail painting. If you can even access the internet in your location. If you need, I might be persuaded to post you a copy. I’m sure it would be a novelty to read about life in the big city.

Samantha, as you are so fond of reminding me, I am a child! You should not use fowl foul language in your correspondence to me.

Also, commenting on Nightwing’s visual appearance is highly insulting. Nightwing is the most adept member of the vigilantes. He was brave enough to protect an entire city on his own, rather than relying on a team who can barely capture the villain of the day. 

Truly, you are a disappointment to your sex.

Sincerely,

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne

~~~

Listen here you little FUCKER–

I’ll say whatever shit I want to you! How dare you insult my sex; that’s like saying all your failings are from being male when clearly they are a result of your awful personality. The fact that your mom isn’t in the picture sure says a lot about how much she wants to deal with you.

We might not have internet, but I read the smoke signals from the neighboring village and saw the picture of your nails. Did you do them yourself? Because it’s not very readable. Not that Robin deserves better. Oh, by the way, I’ve never seen such a bad case of resting bitch face on a boy before. You really hated that nail job, didn’t you? 

I heard Nightwing was the first Robin. I’ve seen videos–sorry, hillbilly visions–and believe it. You know what’s really messed up? He didn’t have any pants! What kind of adult takes a kid out to fight crime without pants? The messed-up kind, that’s who. Child endangerment at its finest. 

It’s too bad he added pants to the Nightwing outfit. Showing off his legs would have enhanced the ass package. 

Still Sam,

Sam

Read the rest here

[footballfanficwriter]

Late night cravings

Summary:where the reader is craving  and she wakes Jude up to her her food

A/n: I am well aware of the war that is happening between Israel and Palestine and I just want to say I support Palestine, but I want to let you know that before reading this there will be mentions of companies that are owed by Israel so consider this a warning when reading also the timeline of these events are before the war or the war is nonexistent and is not taking place

__________________________________________

It's 3 in the morning and I'm tossing and turning in bed, I turn to my left and find Jude is fast asleep, how can he be asleep, how can he fall asleep so easily

I sigh, giving up on finding a comfortable position and just lying on my back, my pregnancy bump just slightly peeking out in my line of vision, I stare at the ceiling for a while and think about how life is going to be in a few months, having babies and a  being mother, and in a few years being referred to as mom, the new responsibilities I'll have, I can't lie I'm terrified, I mean you see all these cases of mother's mental health decrease and how they have post partum depression after giving birth, what If I became like that and start hating my babies because of their existence, and those poor children won't understand a thing that is happening, just that their mother doesn't want them, or what if I just get depressed, and the need to do anything just disappears, I mean I can't afford to be depressed, it's going to affect the babies especially when I'll be breastfeeding and all

I sigh again and try not to look at the negative side of the situation, Jude said I should always call him or wake him up whenever I feel like this so he can reassure me and make me feel like everything is going to be ok, but I don't want to bother him, especially when it's so late, he's already got a lot on his plate, I continue staring at the ceiling just tapping on my belly for a while, and that seems to have woken my unborn children because they start kicking, it must be a party in there

"Ok guys go back to bed, it's too early for you guys to be awake" I whisper

I sigh for the 3rd time knowing it won't work

All of a sudden I feel the urge to eat like I haven't eaten in a while, I'm craving McDonald's,  KFC, and oddly enough something sweet, I don't know what but I'm craving something sweet

I try to ignore my hunger but I can't , I use my arms and hands to make me sit up and turn my head towards Jude then sigh again

"Jude"

"Babe"

"Jude wake up"

He wakes up and looks at me with tired eyes

I instantly regret waking him up the minute I see his eyes

"It's ok honey go back to bed"

"No, what is it, what do you need me to do"

"No, it's alright, it's not important anyway"

"Well, it must be if you woke me up at 3:30 in the morning"

"No it's not, go back to sleep, I'm sorry for waking you up"

"You know I'm not going back to sleep if you're not going to tell me what's wrong" he says

We sit in silence for about 5 minutes

"I'm hungry" I say

"Ok" he says getting out of bed finding his pants and putting them, then his socks followed by his shoes and a black hoodie, he then grabs his phone and opens it

"What do you need" he asks

"No, come back to bed, you don't need to do anything"

"Honey I'm already out of bed, you might aswell tell me"

"Ok, I want two big mac's from McDonald's, hot wings from KFC 24 pieces, a medium sized pizza with cheese, chicken pepperoni, apple juice, and something sweet, I don't know what but I want something sweet"

"Is that all?"

I nod and he says

"Ok, I'll be back soon"

He slightly climbs over the bed and kisses my forehead

"Don't feel bad love, I don't mind going out to get you food"

"You sure?"

"Definitely"

He leaves the room and walks downstairs, opens the front door and he's out

It's only after an hour when I hear the front door open again indicating that Jude is home, I hear him come up the stairs, walk down the passage and the door to our room opens

I see him holding take out and he walks over to me and places everything on the bed

"Ok, so I got everything you asked me for but I didn't know what type of sweet thing you wanted so I got you your favorite sweets/candy and your favorite cake, is it too much?

"No no honey it's perfect"

"You sure?"

"Mhm"

"Ok"

"Thank you"

"You're welcome"

He takes his shoes off and goes to his closet to put them away, he comes back and sits on the bed while I start eating my food in silence

I then turn to him and see him lying on his back with his eyes, I place one of the big mac's on his lap and he looks at me

"What are you doing?" He asks

"Have something to eat"

"No it's fine babe go ahead besides you're eating for 3"

"Yes but you still need to eat"

He sighs and takes the burger from his lap and we eat in silence

"You know, we still haven't come up with any baby names" I say

"Babe we'll name them when they arrive"

"We can't name them when they arrive who do you think we are kylie Jenner?"

He laughs at my comment

"Their names have to have Js though" he says

"No"

"Their names will be different but similar"

"Like?"

"What about Ella and Alex?"

"Or Beatrice And Brandon"

"Beatrice?"

"Yeah"

"That's an old lady's name"

"Madison and Mason"

"No, I'm not really feeling it

"What about Brian and Brianna"

"Ok we'll put that in the idea box, it's not bad"

"Really?"

"Yeah, what about Cara and Carter"

"Hmm, Cara and Carter Bellingham"

"Brian and Brianna Bellingham"

"O I like it"

"I know"

"Ok but on a serious note we need to discuss how we're going to raise these kids Jude"

"What do u mean?"

"Ways of discipline, what if they do something we won't approve of how would we react, what if they come out and they're part of the LGBTQ, what then what?"

"Ok, ways of discipline?"

"Yeah, we need to think about those"

"Simple we'll just beat them"

"I'm not hitting my children"

"Fine, then I'll do it"

"Jude"

"I'm joking, we can take away the things the love, like toys ban them from going to friends, you know all the soft stuff"

"Ok what about the age they can Start dating, and being in relationships?"

"Brian can date when he's 13 but Brianna is dating when she's 28"

"That's insane, we going to treat our kids equally, we can't discriminate because of their genders"

"Fine, both at 13 then" he says rolling his eyes at me

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" I ask

"yeah why, you wanna pull a Christian Grey on me"

"The fact that you can make that reference"

"Yeah, I can"

"Jude we're supposed to be talking about our Future and the Future of our kids"

"Ok, ok sorry"

"Then the LGBTQ thing"

"We disown them immediately" he says in a dramatic way

"Well it won't make me happy either but I guess we'll live with it, they are our children at the end of the day"

"Yeah"

"And the involvement of our parents in their lives, what boundaries need to be set"

"They need to be present that's for sure, buy them gifts and spoil them rotten, I just want them to make a strong connection and bond"

"Yeah that's for sure"

"What about sleep schedules"

"For us or for them?"

"For us"

"We'll take turns"

"One day it's my turn to stay the night with them, then then the next it's your turn, but if it's the both of them being fussy then we can both be awake, and rotate each twin  by the hour"

"What methods should we use If they don't want to sleep?"

"Music, white noises I heard that's good and relaxation for when you're trying to sleep so we'll use that or classical music it's up to them really

"And their sleep schedules?"

"20:00, that's their bed Time, everything must be done before that"

"And sports , that they'll play"

"You already know the answer to that question, I don't even know why you're asking that"

He laughs and I smile at him

"Social media for them?"

"Well considering who their dad is we need them to use other names, and they must be private accounts"

"At what age?"

"14 is when it can happen"

"So social media and phones at 14?"

"Yeah"

"And a trust fund?"

"Most definitely having that, we never know when things go South"

"Ok"

"And I think we should go for Therapy"

"Why, our marriage is not on the rocks"

"I know but I want us to strengthen our relationship and relate to eachother better, you might have things that I do that you don't like and things you do that I don't like, we were very young when we met, and they say time changes people we aren't the same people we were when we met"

"Fine, we'll go"

"And this will strengthen our marriage as well so it's a plus"

"Ok love, anything that makes you feel comfortable"

"Thank you"

"You know I'm glad we're doing this"

"Yeah same"

"That way if any problem is thrown at us we'll be prepared for it"

"True"

He leans in for a kiss and I do the same, I'm about to attach our lips when I feel something coming up my throat

Puke

I quickly open my eyes and run to the bathroom

"Oh wow if I disgust you so much then why'd you marry me"

"Jude"

"No really answer the question"

"It's the sight of your face, it makes me sick

"Very funny"

"It's not a joke" I say brushing my teeth

"Do you wanna cuddle"

"Yeah"

"C'mon then"

I walk towards him and lay my head on his chest and he plays his hand on my belly

"We've got footballers brewing in there"

"Jude, if they choose that they don't want to be footballers then please don't force them or make them feel bad about it or even force them, I want them to make their own decisions

"Fine, but I will be disappointed though"

"Understandable"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drawn Together 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

I saw this and had to

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You are not a rebel. You are clean cut. You live within very precise boundaries. Minimizing every part of yourself to evade notice. Rules are not meant to be broken, despite that old cliche.

That is until that day. It's foolish, you know it. That voice in the back of your head repeats your foreboding. You know you can't go back. There isn't a magic eraser for this one.

Shut up.

You're over it. Over yourself. Over your boring life. You've never done one fun thing for just yourself. It's always been what has to be done. What must be done. You're thirty years old and you don't even know if you understand the concept of 'fun'.

You sit on the leather bench. Nervous and shaky as hell. There's still time to change your mind. You can take your deposit and go, with clean untainted skin.

No! You're not going to chicken out this time. You want one memory that doesn't end in you tucking tail and running.

"Do you like the sketch?" Sam, your assigned artist asks.

You glance over at him as he pulls on a pair of black gloves, his gun laid out and sterilised. You peek at the open sketchbook, the drawing of a simple red poppy outlined in black with a thick spiraled green stem. Nothing too big or extravagant, easy to hide. If your mother or father ever saw that, you would be excommunicated.

"I love it," your voice quavers and you clear your throat, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little anxious."

"That's fine. First time, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I don't even have piercings," you give a brittle chuckle, "I'm not really the adventurous type."

"I'm sure you are in your own way," he grins, a look that calms you. "So, we still set on ankle?"

"Um, yeah, I think that's good."

"As good a starting place as any. Glad I talked you off the ribs. Those are tender."

"Just an idea," you breathe, "I don't know much about these things."

"Not to worry, you're in good hands," he winks, "you can just relax," he rolls his stool to the foot of the bench, "and pop your leg up here."

"Right," you gulp down another chest full of air and follow his direction, "that's it?"

"And keep still. Tell me if you need a break. The pains a bit much at times so don't be afraid to speak up."

"Okay, sounds good," you try to settle in but your blood feels thick and your vision speckles with silver. Oh god, you're really going to do this.

"Don't hold your breath," he says, "really, I don't like my canvases passing out."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, you want something to drink before we start?"

"No, I'm good."

"Awesome," he says and grabs his gun, double checking the tip before moving back to your ankle. "Alright, I'll count down so you're not too surprised."

"Thanks," you fold your hands over your stomach as he positions your leg and bends forward.

He counts from three and you focus on not moving at the first stab of pain. Don't be a weak bitch. You grit your teeth and let out your breath as the gun buzzes loudly. The pain keeps a steady sear in your skin but you slowly get used to the sensation.

As he works, your eyes wander along the dark red walls and the artwork hanging all around. Tattoos in colour and black and white. The schematics of a tattoo gun. A falcon crest wrought in brass.

You hear the door open and the smoky voice of the other artist, Nat greets the newcomer you can't see past the pillar. The response is a deep, rocky timbre. You can only imagine the inked up brute behind it.

"Always with the notes," you hear a paper crinkle, "I'm the artist here, Rogers."

"Hey, I'm an artist too," the man counters lightly.

You peek over as the redhead woman appears on the other side of the pillar and guides her client through to her open workspace. An open curtain drapes against the wall at the other end of the shop. She sets down the page and tuts as she looks it over.

The man slides off a pair of dark sunglasses, black lenses with golden frames. He slips them into the pocket of his denim jacket and tugs at the sleeves. Their actions seem to be routine and you can see why. His arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in ink, a few smaller tattoos on his knuckles. Now you really feel out of place. 

"Sam, what's up?" The other client calls over as he hangs the denim on the coat rack.

"What's it look like, Steve?" Sam says, his eyes not leaving your ankle.

You take in the interaction silently. You're a stranger among the usuals. The poser getting their taste of artificial danger. Your ankle tweaks and you smother a grunt between your teeth. The noise catches the blue eyes of the man, Steve.

You quickly avert your eyes back to Sam and knot your fingers together. Steve's shadow moves away. The artist at your bench hardly seems bothered but gives a shake of his head.

"You want the curtain?" Natasha asks as she approaches the black drapes.

"Nah, you know I don't care."

Your eyes flick up as the man peels off his tank top. Wow. You blink rapidly and make yourself act normal. 

He lowers himself onto the leather seat as Natasha takes out her tools and starts sterilising. You once more force your attention back to Sam's careful work. It's going to take a while.

"You good?" He asks as he glances over, lifting the gun from your skin.

"Great," you murmur in an airy voice.

"Still nervous?"

"No, actually, kinda excited," you try not to speak too loud, overly mindful of the other client in the shop.

"Good," he hunches again and you suck in as he put the needle back to your skin. "So, what do you do? When you're not getting sick tats, that is?"

"Um, I, er, I teach. Music lessons."

"Music, huh? You seem like… the drummer type."

"Piano," you correct him, "I can carry a beat–" you pause to check the pain in your voice, "but I mostly teach piano."

"Classy," he remarks, "so, a poppy, any particular meaning to that?"

"Er, no, uh," you rub your neck nervously but make yourself quit moving, "it's my favourite flower."

"Pretty sombre fave but I get it," he remarks.

"Yeah, I guess…"

Your attention is drawn at the soft slap of skin and the rattle of metal. You look up as Steve retracts his hand and Natasha points at him with a sharp nail, "this is a sterile workspace."

He chuckles at her irritation and shows his palms before he sits back. He rolls his shoulders as he leans casually and twiddle his fingers against his jeans. Once more, your eyes meet and his mouth slants slightly. You gulp and look down again.

"So, any ideas for a second piece?" Sam asks.

"I think I'm gonna stick with one."

"Not gonna get a full bouquet?" He wonders.

"Not yet."

"Better get cozy, Rogers," Natasha says.

You look up as she sprays shaving foam onto his chest.

"You know this is my second home," he teases as he relaxes and she spreads the cream.

"Don't remind me," she grumbles as she takes a razor.

You tear away from your distraction once more. Gosh, it is painful. You don't know how people end up like him. Your tiny little flower will be more than enough for you.

You close your eyes and groan. Sam rests his hand on your calf. He squeezes as he pauses again.

"Need a break."

"No, keep going," you puff out.

You grip the side of the leather bench and bite down. You've always been a big baby. You bat away the gloss of tears threatening to confirm that and take another breath.

The subtle creak of leather pulls your gaze back across the room. Steve leans slightly around to see you past Nat as she shaves one side of his chest. You grimace and hide beneath your lashes.

Why is he looking at you like that? It must be amusing, someone like you in a place like that. Now you know this is definitely a mistake.

[thefearedashantis]

Buttered Noodles 

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Summary: James is understanding of your food sensitivities

Warning:  food sensitivity/sensory issue

*I personally dislike my food touching and creamy textures. Plus this is short and horribly written but what can be done.

- jermaine (シ_ _)シ

“That bush looks like a head of broccoli”

You don't say it because the bush necessarily looks like broccoli. It's simply the urge to talk nipping at you. The need to Distract yourself. Foods all that's on your mind at the moment. The bushes lining the street are the only things in your field of vision where its fixed out the car window.

Besides, what other food could a bush possible resemble but one of many tasteless greens.

James doesn't respond with anything other than a concerned glance. Usually on drives you'd be lounged out in the passenger seat, playlist cued up, serenading him with raspy heavy metal. But there you sit, stiff as a plank. Quiet except for the occasional mumble. Hands knotted in your lap placing wrinkles into your pretty clothes. Mouth pinned into a thin wobbling line. 

You'd met his friends before. They were kind so that wasn't the source of your stress. The trouble arose around the fact that it had been in a pub setting, where the only requirement was drinking and nodding along.

But this would be different. This was big.

A birthday dinner. Where you'd have to sit up straight at a dining table and contribute to conversation, answer and ask questions, smile. All while eating your meal in the same timely manner as everybody else. Not too slow and not too quickly. Not itty bitty spoonful's and not gaping mouthfuls. You'd have to pause between bites, swallow, have a sip of your drink and repeat. Not staring at your plate, make eye contact occasionally.

You've always been very sensitive with food. You grew up in a clean plate household. Only by the grace of the universe were you able to find someone as understanding about it as James. Exactly why you don't want to embarrass him in front of his friends with your pickiness.

You would try your best to stomach whatever was placed before you but boy would it be hard. When certain textures or smells or mixtures made your mouth watery and your palms sweaty.

Food touching. Utensils scraping. The mushy sound of chewing and the wet gulp of a swallow.

However, You'd grind your teeth and bare with the horrors if it meant making a good impression.

“I made sure to tell Moonie you have trouble with certain foods.” James is talking lowly as if afraid to startle you. 

“Huh?”

“Oh, I told Remus some of the things you don't fair well with-

Your eyes grow to twice the size in alarm "You shouldn't have put him out that way Jamie!"

The slight wobble of his head is done in apology. All you'd get, because he wasn't actually sorry. The movement sends his glasses slipping down his nose. You reach out on instinct to adjust them for him. "Its no stress mouse, he was happy to make sure you'd be accommodated"

And how would that appear. Everyone enjoying a full homemade roast dinner while James’ girlfriend poked and prodded at some frozen chicken strips and potato wedges? 

"I can eat whatever he prepares" Could and Would.

"You can. But you don't have to. Remember that." The grounding weight of his hand finds its place on your thigh and your shoulders immediately slump with a release of tension. "Take a breath for me love"

You've squeezed your fingers so tightly your nails have dug bloody crescents into your palms. They burn. Your face warms in a rapid flush. Maybe it wasn't too late to throw yourself from the car. 

"Yeah"

"If you start to feel icky we can always find you a safe food alright? It puts nobody out to make sure you’re well fed"

Icky. James' word for what was, in your head, unreasonable upset and stubbornness. There was a time when more cruel terms were hurled at you. When you sat in the kitchen until the morning doves began to coo. A plate of pasta long cold on the table. You liked pasta. Would have eaten the pasta if only the sauce hadn't been pre added for you. White and thick and slimy. Buttered noodles by themselves were delicious. But you weren't allowed to get yourself a fresh plate until you ate the one already given to you. Even if that meant going to school the next day on an empty stomach and not a wink of sleep. 

"Yes mum" You have to bite your cheek to keep from smiling at how thoughtful you actually found his actions, feigning upset by purposefully avoiding his gaze. He sees through this of course.

"There she is"

And you know by the crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he grins at you that James would gladly join in with any alternative option if it would make you feel more comfortable. Confident. All you had to do was ask and he'd do anything for you. 

[goodolddumbbanana]

(Molten/Sun platonic) A little nightmare [TW: Violence, blood, maybe bugs]

Summary: I like angsty and fluff. i have problem man.

The Thing Creator install still inside Sun's head. It still totured Sun but it made him forget everything after he woke up.

They say there are three things that separate machines from humans.

The first is that humans feel pain, machines don't.

The second is that humans can dream, machines don't.

And the last is that humans have emotions, machines can only fake them.

So when all three conditions are met, can machines call themselves human?

***

Someone's heavy breathing. The hallway is dyed red with blood, seeing the fleeing figure struggling in the swamp of flesh and bone that is dragging them down. They are like trapped in the stomach of a monster, with the walls vibrating in a steady rhythm as if breathing and the flickering eyes that watch their misery like something to behold.

Sun tries to pull himself out of the swamp. His limbs thrash in panic, as his mouth opens, hoping to get some oxygen. A sweet, fishy taste rushed into Sun’s mouth, making him make pitiful gurgling noises as he was about to choke.

‘It’s not real.’

‘It’s all in your head, Sun.’

‘Be patient, Moon will come to save you.’

But no matter how many times he repeated the mantra, Sun himself couldn’t believe it.

Every night. Every damn freaking night. Sun would be stuck here, reliving the endless pain his dear old father had left him the day that wretched old hag hacked into his head.

First was the broken leg .

Pain that made him hard to breathe. Pain that felt like his lungs were being squeezed and submerged in water. Pain worse than anything Eclipse and Moon had ever put him through before, pain that left him unable to scream. His nails dug into the metal, bending it and creating ugly scratches and dents as an unhealthy defense mechanism to ease the pain. 

If Sun had a tongue, he would have bitten it off by now.

Then came the loss of vision .

The mist was so thick it was hard to breathe, surrounding Sun like a heavy, wet blanket. It clung to Sun’s throat, sharp as if it contained tiny metal fragments, invading Sun’s circuit boards and fans like termites, feasting on the wires inside Sun’s body. It felt like thousands of worms were eating him from the inside out, with buzzing sounds mixed with screams that almost reached the limits of Sun’s madness.

‘Tear it out… Tear it out… Take it all out! PLEASE!!!’

Sun cried out for help, but nobody came. His pearly eyes were still red, the smell of burning flesh lingering in his nose like sap on the hottest day. The electric explosions were whistling inside him, the system kept popping out golden triangles, even now, it was replaced by plump white legless creatures crawling across his inner screen.

Hearing was the last thing.

In that eerie silence, Sun's screams were swallowed into nothingness. He had a mouth, but he couldn't scream.

***

"Frog dissection experiments are really inhumane, right Mr.Sun?"

Sun blinked, and suddenly, he was in the daycare. The room music was whispering in his ears, and the brilliant colors of light kissed Sun's skin.

'Wha–?!'

A small hand grabbed Sun's ribbon and shook it. The little boy with the superhero cape had eyes shining like stars, looking at him with anticipation and excitement.

"What did you say? I don't understand..." Sun stuttered. "Well... It's educational to some extent... I guess?"

"Sunny!!..." The kid huffed. The other kids looked at each other with amusement.

"See, Huey, you're wrong!" Another kid, wearing big glasses and blond hair, shouted.

"Shut up Jackie! My mom says it's not nice to hurt animals!" Huey waved his arms wildly, for some reason the red of the cape wrapped around this kid reminded him of blood.

"Pfft!! You are chicken!! Chicken Huey!" Jackie stuck out his tongue.

The twins behind him squealed with laughter, matching the rhyme: "Huey's a chicken! Huey's a chicken!"

"Come on James, Jamie. You can't tease Huey like that." Sun cut off the teasing when he noticed Huey was starting to tear up. “That’s not good, okay?”

“I’m not a chicken.” Huey’s eyes were red, his voice starting to crack. Sun pulled Huey into his arms, patting the child’s back. A sick feeling came over him as the child lay snugly in his arms.

“No one said Huey was a chicken. You’re the bravest person I know. Those kids were just teasing…”

“But what do you think, Sunny?”

A whisper rang out in Sun’s heart. The music had stopped at some point, and something was dripping behind Sun.

“What–!?”

“Do you think that because a frog’s life is worth less than a human’s, it deserves to be tortured like that, Sun?”

Something slipped out of Sun’s arms, falling to the ground. A human body, the body of a child. In Sun’s arms was only Huey’s head. Two empty eye sockets stared at him, the boy’s mouth still open, smiling at him.

In the blink of an eye, what had once been the daycare was gone. Bodies were strewn everywhere, and blood was in Sun's hands. But right now, Sun was too small, too weak. A laugh rang out, a laugh that Sun was sure was his own, but it didn’t escape his mouth.

His clone, another Sun, stood before Sun with a look of satisfaction. There was blood on the other’s sunbeam, and his intestines and brains were still neatly placed on the monster’s shoulders.

“Brother, look. We have a winner~~~”

“Oh~~~Why don’t we give the winner a prize?”

Sun didn’t even have time to react.‌ The other’s claws shot out, grabbed Sun’s head, and slammed it hard against the ground. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but watch as his brains were splattered and his limbs were torn to pieces like rag dolls.

***

“Doctor, look at this specimen.” Sun suddenly found himself trapped in some kind of operating room, with his real body. Surrounded by anatomical images of fish, frogs, and even worms. Opposite his sight was a fish tank. The goldfish swam silently inside, circling around a moon doll whose head was torn off by someone. “Even though it’s dead, it can still move~~~”

Bloodmoon appeared before Sun’s eyes, the red moon model grinning at him with delight, the monster wearing a pure white nurse’s uniform, not a single blemish in contrast to their bloody hands.

The other person was also Bloodmoon, but it was the one who had been destroyed by Puppet. Over their red and blue coats was a surgical gown that specialized doctors often wore.

Sun felt the inside of his chest split open, these two gremlins's hands rudely stirring up the wires and circuit boards inside.

“ Hmm, you’re right, my nurse. Let’s say, I think if we increase the current, I feel like we can make some progress .” Blood nodded, as they ruthlessly tore the fan off Sun’s body.

“ Aren’t you afraid it will die again? ” The other chuckled, but his hand was already ready to plug the power cord into Sun’s charger.

“ Isn't It just a useless thing, my nurse? We can easily replace it with something else .”

And the pain tore everything white, accompanied by Bloodmoon’s cruel chuckle.

***

Sun felt like he was going crazy.

Maybe he was already crazy.

In a blink of an eye, he was back in hell. His whole body was shaking, choking on the air filled with mist and smoke, with a heavy feeling like someone’s hand was dragging him down into the mud. Sun could only limp to the ground, even moving an inch was enough to hurt him so much that he couldn’t breathe.

A black figure stood staring at him, an almost octopus-like body with tendrils shooting out all around, pitch black with irises staring back at him.

“What more do you want!!?” Sun spat. He glared at the person in front of him. His torturer. His prisoner. His newest roommate for over a dozen days.

The Thing.

And as always, the bastard said nothing. A virus, whose sole purpose was to torture him, that didn’t even have a sentient yet.

It moved closer to Sun, the seemingly delicate yet sturdy metal wires pulling Sun up despite Sun’s feeble struggles. The wires clung to the joints and shafts of the frame, tight enough to make him walk like a puppet.

“What?!‌! Say something!!!”

There was only silence in response. There was the sound of dripping water, and the rattling of plastic balls in Sun’s ears. The pain suddenly disappeared, as did the unreadable look on ‘The Thing ’s’ face, always shrouded in red mist.

Sun felt no pain. He felt nothing. He felt empty, so empty and peaceful that it was scary.

Suddenly, a loud, harsh noise, the sound of metal breaking.

What could it be? Sun wondered absentmindedly, suddenly finding his vision lowered.

Oh… The thing that broke turned out to be him.

Piece by piece… Piece by piece the metal that had once shaped Sun fell, crumbling to dust. His face fell off, sinking into the water.

The darkness was cold and too suffocating.

Sun prayed that this would be his final destination.

***

“Sun? Sun, wake up.”

A strange, monotonous, mechanical sound rang out in Sun’s ears.‌ The saffron-colored animatronic jerked awake in confusion, its mouth opening in a jumble of questions.

A soft icy blue light caught Sun’s eyes. A Freddy model with white fur and orange spots, looked at him curiously.

“Oh? Molten? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, no. I saw you fall asleep. Are you tired, Sun?”

Sun looked around in confusion. He was sitting in front of the movie screen. It was strange, when did he fall asleep? He and Molten were watching a movie. Something from Marvel… Then maybe he fell asleep because he was bored? Sun checked his internal system, and found that his battery was only below 30%.

“Oh… It’s okay Molten, I just forgot to plug it in. I guess practicing magic somehow drained my energy more than usual.”

“Can I help? I want to help.” Molten’s ears twitched as if he was excited. It was strange because Sun had never seen Freddy or any Freddy model like Molten.

It was… quite cute to some extent.

“Oh, no need.” Sun stood up and stretched. His whole body was sore, probably from lying in the wrong position. Right now, all he wanted to do was lie in bed, but the thought of going back to sleep or standing up to charge somehow made him feel discouraged .

Never mind, he could charge himself standing up with the solar power anyway.

“Are you used to everything here, Molten?”

“Yes! Everyone here is really nice!!” Sun could feel stars twinkling in Molten's eye as they rambled on about Moon, about Solar, about Daycare…

“And you haven’t met Jack and Dazzle yet. They’re all pretty cool, trust me.” Sun chuckled, his eyes wandering to the chair where the popcorn crumbs were scattered. It was dirty , bugs, bugs, he hated bugs… Why does he feel like he wants to hit something right now?

“Oh, new friends? I like having new friends. We can play games, and watch movies…” Molten nodded. Their hands were bent, but the sharp, smooth wire still made a rustling sound along the way. Something made Sun feel uneasy, but Sun didn't know what it was.

Maybe he should ask Moon to run the system again, it had been a long time since he had upgraded anyway.

But maybe later. Moon was quite busy, and Solar too. The Computer got broke, which caused them a lot of trouble. Too much work to do and too little time to spend.

"But you're fine, Sun." The words sounded so gentle in Sun's ears that he was startled. Sun looked up, Motlen's face still looked the same, a look of innocent joy that made Sun a mixture of guilt and relaxation.

Why are you so nice to me? I don't deserve it, I really don't deserve it at all. I'm not as smart as Moon or as reliable as Solar. Even Monty is more responsible than me.

I will destroy you.

I will be the venom that will burn you from the inside.

I will turn the best part of you into something ugly, like Rocksan, like Nexus, all because I dare to think about caring.

Eclipse is right, I'm an ungrateful idiot who only knows how to cling to others.

As if reading his mind, Molten smiled. "I love to hang out with you because I know you are a good and caring person. But I know it is hard for you to believe it. So I will keep saying these words until you believe the words I say are true."

Something stirred in Sun's chest, so quickly that he immediately suppressed the feeling.

Can he really have a friend? Someone wouldn't suddenly break like Rocksan, someone wouldn’t be so spiral like Nexus.

Is it okay for him to have someone other than Moon?

“Hahahaha… yeah sure, Molten.”

Sun laughed, but inside he had no answer to that confusion.

Please leave me.Please stay with me.

***

“Hope is a terrible thing, Sun. It keeps you from giving up no matter how hard things get, but it can also make your situation worse without you even knowing it. Why is the sinner clings to a spider’s thread, even though he knows it will break, he still tries to climb up countless times?

That is because of hope, or desperation?

A song that is danced to many times will become boring too, don’t you think it is true, son? Are you ready to give up?”

Creator asked his creation affectionately, who was forcefully sitting on a throne that was stacked high with human bones.

Exhausted, bloody, bruised, and stained with a clean brown and yellow, the son of the most self-absorbed bastard on the planet, who could only move his head right now, gritting out the words.

“Go to hell, old man.”

“Oh well, and I thought I am making some progress.  It's a shame this talk didn’t work out. Let's try again, my boy. See you next time, Sun.”

The brain chuckled, and once again the hands grabbed Sun and pulled him into the water, making gurgling, gurgling sounds.

“Maybe I should switch the target to Molten.”

[deer-sprunki-bini]

[ Uh oh gang.. It's the dead of night, and there is a consistent clatter coming from the farm area is probably not good ]

[ Upon inspection (if she ever does decide to check things out!!), the livestock are completely untouched! Bini's carrot crops, however? Have seen better days.. Mounds of dirt and devoured vegetables lay in a messy pile, and something bent over on all fours can be seen in her crop plot.. Absolutely HOUSING those veggies, and that dirt! ]

[ Oh my god. Oh my god what is that thing!!! What is it doing here!!?!! ]

Bini had woken up from the loud noises that came from outside. She groans softly, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. She checks the clock: twelve in the morning, sharp at midnight.

"The hell..? What's going on?" The deer-like Sprunki asks herself before stretching her arms and climbing out of bed. Bini firstly grabs her trusty machete from under her bed, then she walks out of her room.

"Eek!" A small screech escaped another person's lips as soon as Bini opened the door. It was Russet, her little nephew. "Auntie? Why are you awake?"

"I should be asking you that question, Rus," Bini replies, patting his head gently. "Why are you awake? It's midnight."

"Oh, I heard a loud noise outside. I thought of checking what was going on," he replies to her, his arms hugging himself. "It was really loud."

She nods at his reason, her eyes full of understanding. She says, "I see. Why don't you go back to bed? Auntie can handle this." And Russet walks back to his bedroom.

Bini takes a deep breath before she starts marching towards the door. She swings it open, asserting dominance to whatever or whoever trespassed her property. She takes slow steps, her grip on the machete's handle tightening. Her night vision was naturally activated, she was a deer, after all.

Bini checks the barn. Her chickens, cows, sheep, pigs... all of them were unharmed. She sighs in relief before becoming tense once more, her ears perked up at the sound of rustling and munching. She decides to go to her fields of crops, and she gasps at the sight of what has happened.

All of her crops were messily devoured, thrown into a big dirty pile of eaten food. The carrots, potatoes, parsnips, cauliflower... these were the crops she was about to harvest! "Damn it." She mutters angrily.

"Okay, whoever's out here, I have a machete and I'm not afraid to use it!" She yells, uncaring if the neighbors would later complain about it at sunrise. "It's not nice to eat someone's crops like that, y'know?"

Then, a low growl. Bini instantly freezes in place, her eyes wide as they lock with another's.

It was a large creature, an entity, perhaps. Even with Bini's night vision, its glowing, yellow eyes outshine its figure. She could not point who it is, but somehow, the entity looked familiar.

Until she saw the yellow antennae. Bini immediately got the hint, gasping loudly before stepping back.

"S-Simon?!"

[calllmelittleghuleh]

👯‍♀️💙 we know that copia is a big film and video game nerd. What do you think his favorite kinds of video games are? Or how often he takes a sloth day off from work to indulge in leisure? 👀 we have yet to see him actively working and not just goofing off a bit

🫶🏻🥰 How cuteee

I'm not really a big game connoisseur, I only play with stardew valley and have played animal crossing in the past, my knowledge of gaming is very limit. 😌 But I feel like Copia is one of those gamers who like to stick to the old classics you know? Because no matter how good a new game can be, our nostalgic hearts are always gonna go back to our favorites eventually. 🫶🏻 Especially if it's a game he used to play when younger. I speak from personal experience when I say that there's no game that could beat a childhood one 🥹 So I think no matter how many different games he may collects and enjoy a lot, at the end of the day he's always re-playing with his favorite classics. Like Mario Kart, for example. 🥹 I think he might enjoy those games where you go on an adventure and ahead of your path there are crazy mysterious quests to do. 🥰 The game he plays in chapter 16 is about cars, yes, but seems to have also an interesting plot with different routes and outcomes depending on which option you pick, you get what I mean?

But also. Listen to me girl. Bear with me. I have a vision.

Copia and stardew valley. Copia playing stardew valley. Girl I know it's silly and definitely self indulgent because this is my favorite game. And I love more to think that Copia is more a console gamer rather than a laptop one, he loves to do it the old fashioned way you know? But bear with me let me explain. Stardew valley has no age. 😔

So, there's no doubt that Copia would love to play games with you and share this hobby of his together on a chill afternoon.

Let's say you're a nerdy gamer as he is. And let's say one day he catches you play with stardew valley on your own. He doesn't know this game. He sees how invested you are in the game as he follows your stardew OC walking around Pelican Town, pays attention to the little tunes, how colored and beautifully looking the different places are... eventually he gets so curious that he wants to try it out to know what this is about, even though he himself rarely plays on laptop. If his lover is so invested in this game it must be a good one, after all.

Girl that man would have a blast the second he makes his own farm. I can see him so clearly. He would love to romance Emily and make pretty clothes with the sewing machine. Hell, he probably would spend several days just making clothes of all kinds to test every option he can get. He would have so much fun with the many festivals, and appreciate how different and vaste the music is. I think he'd love to do silly things just because he can: not giving Lewis his pants back to put them in the soup at the Luau festival or make his own pair to wear in front of Marnie, turning his kids into doves, naming a chicken [74]. The options are endless. 👀 He's the kind of person who would finish an entire season in just one day if his schedule allows it. I think part of his love for gaming is about appreciating the creativity and aesthetic of it, and stardew is so full of creativity! 🫶🏻 He'd adore it. And finally, he'd understand why you like this game so much. The lore of the game is beautiful and so fun. There's nothing quite like the first farm, when everything in the game is new and a surprise, you don't know what comes next and have to figure out every little thing.

Next thing you'll hear from him is asking you to make a co-op farm together so you can take care of your own shared farm and get married with each other. How cute would be? Can you see my vision the way I do? 🥹 It makes me so soft to think about this tbh 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 I'm gonna waste my day smooching him thousands times in a row until it's 2 am and we pass out. It'd be so sweet. Decorating your house together and use his co-op smaller house as a extra room or storage, watering the crops together (which means that you would water the crops while he just walks around to dig the worms and feed the animals because watering crops is boring), vibing in the secret woods doing nothing special just because it's a beautiful place, giving each other gifts, or helping each other in the mines even if it means that you'll pass out. There's so much to say. He'd enjoy Abigail aesthetic and the wizard, love Krobus, have fun going to ginger island and try to complete the community center as quick as possible, cooking all recipes. Just wait until he finds out that there's a huge universe of mods to try out.... What do you mean he can change the look of his house into a hobbit house!? Star wars mod?? WHAT!?!? You'd lose him forever at that point. 😂 The possibilities are endless 😌 god. Terzo would never get over it if he knew his brother plays stardew. 😂 Poor Copia. 😌 I just think it's a neat, cute image to think about despite it be a little silly don't you think? 🥹

He'd get time off any chance he get, frankly. 😌 He works hard! Let him get the rest and chill time he deserves whenever he can! And once he's done with rituals and the tour has ended he better get a long week (or two) all to himself, to rest and do what he likes until he recharges the batteries, or else-☝🏻

[namorssideburns]

hello jalix my dear new f4 content i need to know your thoughts ^_^ also hruu

Hi Ali I'm great 💪 honestly, Fantastic Four trailer? Cautiously optimistic! Maybe it's because all I've been watching recently are Mission Impossible sequels but. Honestly, I was expecting the trailer to just kind of ignore (not miss, but ignore) the point of the Fantastic Four, and it kinda... didn't. I mean, it hit quite a few of the major beats of their characters. Ben is sad but he hides it, Reed is wracked with guilt, Sue is brave (admittedly, she and Johnny get less characterisation in this trailer than Ben and Reed). Johnny is surprisingly absent, I have to say, which is surprising just because he's one of the more popular members from what I understand. You'd almost think that this was the Hanna-Barbera cartoon the way there was more Herbie than Johnny.

Emphasising their family bond is a good beat to start on. The thing is, a lot of what makes the Fantastic Four special is what makes (or made, anyway) them different. They are a family of superheroes, not the equivalent of colleagues or team members, but best friends. They didn't even wear costumes at first, or have secret identities either, because they were much more inspired by contemporary adventure sci-fi stories than by superheroes themselves (despite, obviously, Johnny Storm technically being a human torch legacy character), although in the MCU no superhero has a secret identity so that doesn't make a big difference. The one thing I would say it's nice to keep in mind is that the other thing that made them different is that... they were kind of a bunch of jerks. Like, in Fantastic Four #1 they steal things and burst through walls and pavements and go invisible and ignore people and Sue calls Ben a chicken when he thinks the plan is too dangerous, and that's one of the things I like best about them. I would say that a common misconception is that the fantastic four are lame, outdated, that they are the stereotype of superheroes, sometimes the kindly euphemism is "classic". But there's nothing like that about them, really. They were so cool because they were inspired by everything BUT superheroes and they were different from every other superhero. In 1961 the superhero genre was near dead, so Jack Kirby reinvented the superhero.

All this to say that the trailer shows you the Fantastic Four. Not a re-imagining, not an update, not a New Take, not a never before seen vision. Just Marvel's first family. And with the popular attitude being that the fantastic four "don't work", I'm pleased to see that. I was sceptical about doing a retro vibe. I was worried that would suggest that the FF are relics. But then again... if the movie really is accurate... it can be forgiven, because a movie that replicates that they actually are rather than what they're imagined, misremembered, to be, would be really quite valuable.

To be fair, it's not as though I expect it to be an actual good movie- the MCU is no longer capable of making good movies, I believe that's become clear. Despite the retro-futurist styling, the visuals look dull. I don't expect the dialogue to be very clever. But a movie that's not an active insult would be a gift, to me.

[iwaoiness]

Foolbirds

"Are you talking to Iwaizumi?" Matsukawa asks quietly, pretending to pay attention to the physics problem the teacher is explaining on the board.

Sitting next to him, in the back row, Oikawa stiffens, raising his head toward Issei, and blinking. His lips are curved into a soft smile that he hasn't given him time to disguise.

"What?"

Mattsun smiles, peeling his eyes away from the board to direct them towards Tooru's phone on the table. It’s tucked under the thick physics book, screen on and brightness at minimum.

“You’re not subtle at all.”

Oikawa’s cheeks quickly turn red and he frowns, narrowing his big eyes.

“I’m not talking to Iwa-chan, it’s just… mom”

“Do you smile like a fool in love with your mom?”

"Actually, I didn't say it's my mom, maybe I'm talking to yours" He smiles proudly, but Issei arches an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact, amused watching Oikawa's ears also turn red and his lips quiver.

"Nice try, but you're not convincing at all."

Tooru's expression turns into a pout and he snorts, averting his gaze.

"... It’s Iwa-chan" He mumbles.

"Mmh" He hums, expanding his lazy smile as he turns his vision back towards the board. "Lovebirds"

"We're not!" He babbles too loudly, grabbing the attention of the class and halting the teacher's explanation.

Matsukawa has to make a titanic effort not to laugh as Oikawa (who curses him under his breath) quickly turns away, sketching his best innocent smile, the one that says I’m the best and more reliable student.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Oikawa-kun?" The sensei arches an eyebrow, one hand on her waist and the other holding the chalk.

"Just how well you teach the class, sensei" He broadens his smile, cocking his head slightly in a gesture he knows no one can resist.

The sensei blinks slightly in surprise, letting out an oh, thank you before smiling back at him and continuing with the explanation.

Oikawa sighs and, frowning again, pinches Matsukawa's thigh under the table when he hears him cough to hide the laughter.

"This is your fault" He sticks his tongue out at him, slouching back over his book (his phone, actually).

Matsukawa rolls his eyes in enjoyment, again pretending to be understanding Coulomb's law. It's only a matter of seconds until Tooru is visibly more relaxed and when Issei glances sideways at him, he finds him again grinning dumbly at his phone, typing subtly.

Instead of lovebirds, fool-birds, he thinks, making sure the sensei is still engrossed in her explanation before lifting the cover of his own book where he has hidden his phone and glancing at the latest messages he has received from Hanamaki.

chicken teri-maki 🦩

bro i cant handle this anymore tf are they waiting for this happens in EVERY FUCKING english class and i cant pay attention to the damn lessons bc this mf is so in love and im too gossipy to ignore it

And there is an accompanying image, somewhat blurry and from a low angle, but it is enough to see Iwaizumi's profile, with his cheek resting on his hand, eyes set on his phone hidden in his case and a small smile that he tries to conceal by gently biting his lip.

btw u know in japan we say machine to the sewing machines only but apparently in english it refers to anything from alarm clock to a piece of construction??

Then, there is another image, this time, a selfie of Makki from below, with a disgusted expression directed at the camera.

Issei snorts and, with agility, types on his phone with one hand.

welcome to the false friends's world do u know consent sounds like konsento the word we use to power outlet but consent in english its asking for permission to do something? and what do u thing our two stupids boys are talking about?

fr?? i hate the false friends sm why are we studying this shit idk dude but i swear one day ill get these two together

for my mental health and academic achievement

...

u can find me on my ao3 🌻🍉

[moonstrider9904]

Hii, this this love letter thing looks fun. So I’m going to throw my two cents in.

Character: Wolffe

Relationship details: I imagine that he was helping civilian evacuation efforts on my home planet, and he rescued me. I was relocated to Coruscant. He started checking in on me every time he was on leave. He convinced himself that it was out of an obligation to make sure I was safe and cared for, but really it was cause he was down bad for me. I think in terms of relationship dynamics I would be the sunshine to his grumpy. But something that’s interesting about me is that I am visually impaired, so I think that would also evoke his protective instincts and need to care for me. Not in an overbearing way, because I am an independent woman, but in an I’m always thinking ahead and I’m here to take care of you and make your life easier kind of way. Never doubting my abilities but intuitively knowing when I need help or when he needs to intervene.

About me: my name is Shayla. I’ve got medium length blonde hair and blue eyes, though my right one has the appearance of looking clouded over because I’ve got no vision left in it. I’m around 4‘11“, so pretty tiny, especially in comparison to the clones, and I am white. I am a little bit on the quiet/introverted side, but I’ve got a guide dog who is usually the icebreaker for people who meet me, because when she’s not working, she’s very sociable. 

Pronouns: she/her. 

Suggestive themes: your choice. Whatever strikes your fancy, i’ll be happy with whatever you come up with.

Sorry this was long. 

@ireadwithmyears Hello, there! Thank you for stopping by and celebrating with me. It's wonderful to meet you! Thanks for giving me the chance to write something for Wolffe again. He's one of my favorites and it's been so long since I've written for him. I hope you enjoy this letter from him to you!

Moon's 1300 follower celebration - a love letter from your man

My dear Shayla,

I don't think I recall a time when I was more at ease except whenever I've been there at your side. I just got word from the General that I'll be returning to Coruscant, and this shore leave couldn't have come soon enough. Knowing I'll be there with you soon is enough for the time being.

Just wait to hear all the stories I've got from this load of missions. Nothing too terrible happened, don't worry, though it's possible you'll feel a couple of new scars since the last time we slept together. I'm taking care of myself though, or at least as much as I can. I hope you're taking care too. I hate that I'm not there with you more often, I can't help myself. And I know you're alright, I just really want to be there. And the boys sure get a laugh whenever they see me with you, but they mean well. And it's not as if I don't get why they feel that way - sometimes, not even I understand how someone as joyful as you could be with an old grump such as myself.

Guess I've gotten lucky in more than one way, huh, sweetheart? 😉

Forgive me for being so forward. I'll try to be more of a gentleman when I'm with you, unless you wish for me to do otherwise.

I'd love to hear more about your life on Coruscant. Are you having any trouble adjusting? The point of this move is for you to have a good life, so please, tell me if anything isn't to your liking, big or small. I could probably ask General Plo to improve anything for you if you need it, and if not, there's always General Skywalker. He's got pull in the Senate, so if there's anything you may want, just ask.

And say hello to your dog for me. Before you ask, yes, I have some of that roasted chicken she liked last time I was around. I just hope the next few times I come and visit, she actually gets excited to see me, not the chicken I have for her.

I'm signing off now, dear. If I keep writing now, I'll finish writing this by the time I actually get to Coruscant. Can't wait to see you. Can't wait to be with you again.

Yours,

Wolffe

[archinform]

Life is…Life

"A plate is a plate. A man is a man. Life is ... Life."

Reflecting on Jean-Luc Godard's Vivre sa vie

[I originally published this post on September 4, 2009, in my blog Running Into Myself, while living and teaching in China.]

"...I don't think there's any better way to fight off the chill of winter than a big bowl of carbohydrates swimming in melted butter." David Lebovitz, Wed., Dec 31, 2008 Imagine if all the tumult of the body were to quiet down, along with our busy thoughts. Imagine if all things that are perishable grew still. And imagine if that moment were to go on and on, leaving behind all other sights and sounds but this one vision which ravishes and absorbs and fixes the beholder in joy, so that the rest of eternal life were like that moment of illumination which leaves us breathless. Saint Augustine

Anna Karina in Vivre sa vie

Among my obsessions lately have been all things French; witness my continual references to David Lebovitz' blog about food and Paris.

I've also been watching a bunch of French films recently.  Is it my imagination, or am I understanding more of the dialogue, since the downloads and DVDs don't include English subtitles?  Jean-Luc Godard's Vivre sa vie (1962), which I watched again last night for the third or fourth time, is rapidly becoming one of my favorite movies. 

Nana in a cafe, opening scene of Vivre sa vie

I was mesmerized by the unusual, voyeuristic camera placement that often photographs conversations showing the backs of people’s heads; by the informal, everyday atmosphere of Paris in the early 60s; and, most of all, by the images of Anna Karina (then married to Godard).  The film, above all, seems to be a meditation on her face in its many expressions and moods.  It's a many-layered evocation of life, living, choices, and death, through masterful use of sound, silence, symbolism, dialogue, and camera work.

"The film was made by sort of a second presence," Godard said; "the camera is not just a recording device but a looking device, that by its movements makes us aware that it sees her, wonders about her, glances first here and then there, exploring the space she occupies, speculating."

Anna Karina

The streetwalker's endless beat begins

The story in brief: a young woman's loss of income leads her to become a prostitute; she hooks up with a pimp, eventually finds love, and finally, er, suffers a tragic and abrupt end. Can you even imagine an early 60s American film dealing matter-of-factly with prostitution? (Vivre sa vie includes a voice-over, clinical dissection of the facts and daily routine of a prostitute's life) Yes, I know Shirley MacLaine played a whole series of hookers-with-a-heart-of-gold, but the word was never used. Nor did money change hands. Nor did we ever get a great shot like this:

Some things are slightly less obvious, though:

Anna Karina as...Louise Brooks?

Louise Brooks, 1920s

Compare the expression on Karina's face above with with that of actress Ellen Andrée in Degas' painting of L' Absinthe below:

Edgar Degas, Dans un café (L'Absinthe), 1875 -1876, oil on canvas,H. 92,0 ; L. 68,5 cm. Musée d’Orsay

This has always been one of my favorite paintings, maybe because of the deep alienation and sadness in the woman's downcast eyes. She also reminds me of my mother, who had a lot of her own sadness.

Enough said. You'll just have to watch the film, or read an excellent interpretation here:

https://www.sensesofcinema.com/2000/cteq/vivre/

Oh, and don't let the conversation about the chicken confuse you:

 Nana's lover tells her about a homework assignment submitted by a little girl to his father the teacher. In this essay, the little girl writes: "The chicken has an inside and an outside. Remove the outside and you find the inside. Remove the inside and you find the soul."

Criterion trailer for Vivre sa vie

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

Seismic Waves

AO3 LINK

"I just need to water my plants, then we'll head home, okay?"

Chris nods, seemingly unperturbed by the short detour. He was just happy to be hanging out with his Buck. What he doesn't understand is why Buck doesn't just move his plants to the Diaz house. Buck basically lives there anyway. Most of his clothes, books, and even cooking materials are at the Diaz house. Plus, Chris can't remember the last time he woke up and Buck wasn't there making breakfast.

Buck quickly waters his plants. They're pretty much the only reason he comes to his loft anymore. When he's not at work, he's at Eddie's. In all honesty, the price he's paying for the loft is far from equal to the time he spends here. It would probably be a more sound financial decision to sell the place, but he's not about to ask Eddie if he can move in. Even if he basically lives there anyway.

"Can we get ice cream on the way home?"

"It's almost dinner time. After dinner we can grab some, and we can bring your dad, yeah?"

"Are you making chicken for dinner?"

"Yup! And I'll need my sous chef to help," Buck smiles. 

He's about to water the last plant when it happens. He feels the faint vibrations through the floorboards before the actual quake hits. Everything seems to slow down, seconds stretching into eons. Buck sees cracks spiderweb up the wall. The ground starts to give way. He yells Chris' name, lunges towards him, bundles the boy into his arms just as the floor falls out from beneath them. He curls his body around Chris, angling them so that he'll take the brunt of the impact when they land. 

When he hits the ground, it takes him a second to register it. Then the pain sets in. All the air is knocked from his lungs, and he can feel a rib or two snap. There's a sharp ache in his left side, and he can feel wetness slowly soaking through his shirt. He's definitely bleeding. His vision won't clear and he can't seem to get his head to stop pounding. He hears someone calling his name. 

"Buck! Buck!"

Chris' voice breaks through the fog in his brain. Chris, he needs to check on Chris-

Buck sits up, which turns out to be a mistake. The pain that shoots through him makes the ringing in his ears return. He gasps, but gets himself upright. Chris is on his knees in front of Buck, looking terrified. Buck quickly scans him for injuries. Besides a small cut on his forehead, the boy seems to be unharmed. 

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. But you're bleeding."

Chris points at the wound on Buck's side. It's steadily leaking blood, red overcoming the blue of his shirt. He clamps a hand down on it. He can feel the pulse of blood beneath his fingers. They seem to have fallen into the basement below. Dust hangs thick in the air. There's concrete and rubble all around them. The whole building must have collapsed on top of them. They're completely trapped down here. 

Buck pulls out his phone. The screen is cracked, the device mangled beyond recognition. It's useless. If Chris wasn't here, Buck would be cursing up a storm. The two of them are stuck under an entire building with no way to get in touch with the outside world. This quake was a big one. The 118 is probably going to be running from scene to scene. And of course, this is the day when Eddie is on shift and Buck isn't. 

"It's dark in here," Chris says quietly.

"I know. Someone will find us soon. We're going to be alright."

Chris curls himself into Buck's good side. Buck uses his free hand to pull the boy closer. 

"Hey, you remember that documentary we watched about sharks? It got me think about megalodons," Buck starts, trying to distract Chris from their current situation.

"I asked Dad if we could go see the new Meg movie. He said it was too scary and violent."

"Mm, I'll have to agree with him on that one. The two of us watched the first one. I was jumping the whole time."

What Buck doesn't mention is that Eddie ended up holding Buck because he was so scared. It wasn't something out of the ordinary for the two of them to do. Buck had loved it though, the feeling of being held by Eddie. As if they were a proper couple. He knows that it's wrong to think of your best friend like that. But he can't help it. His heart belongs to Eddie. It was his from the first day they met. 

"Do you think there are really megalodons in the ocean?"

"Honestly, I don't know. But I wouldn't be surprised if there were."

"I want to learn how to scuba dive one day. It would be cool to explore the oceans."

"Scuba diving is fun. I used to do it before I came to LA."

"Did you ever see Atlantis?"

"Nope. But I saw some pretty cool fish. I even saw an octopus once."

Chris continues to ask him questions about his experiences scuba diving. Buck had gotten trained when he thought about becoming a SEAL. Even though he didn't go through with the enlistment, the skills he learned came in handy. He used to love scuba diving, loved the ocean. But after the Tsunami he can't see the ocean the same way. Instead of filling him with a sense of calm it fills him with dread. He almost lost Chris that day. And here they are again, in danger, all because of Buck.

Logically Buck knows he couldn't have predicted this. But he never should have brought Chris to his loft, just like he never should have brought Chris to the pier. He just wanted to water his fucking plants.

"Since we won't have time to make the chicken tonight, can we order in pizza?"

"Sure. And maybe we can convince your dad to let us watch the Meg."

"If both of us ask, he won't stand a chance," Chris says confidently. 

Read the rest on AO3

[crackedpumpkin]

“Chicken and croffles” I had flashbacks at that man. There’s this person I watch and they were telling their story of trying to rizz someone through food, and by rizz I mean they tried to impress an attractive waiter, but fumbled a bit and ordered chicken and waffles. He got so nervous they ordered the first thing he saw, which was chicken and waffles. How attractive was this waiter? So attractive that his friends literally had to warn them and also tried to clean him up a bit to look more presentable LMAO

Really liked this chapter!!! Love the sceneries and how Miles and “Ray Paynt” interacted!!!! Something about how you write feels real, like even in the little things with Miles’ “It’s a choice.” And when dragging him along to the cafe at an unexpected notice. Stop writing food so deliciously it’s nearly 8am for me and I’m wanting some nice fruit-ade or something!!! 😭/pos

From one Michael to another, MICHAEL STAHP WITH THE TOUCHING YOU’RE GONNA GET YOUR WILLYIAM CHOPPED OFF FR

omfg i felt that fr im not even kidding. what i would give to be on the receiving end of that starstruckness.... okay in all honesty I'd probably be that very dude dropping my utensils.

WAIT OKAY STORY TIME BECAUSE IVE GOT ONE OF MY OWN:

So i recently went to korea in june and i went with 2 other friends who went to queue up at the NIKE store in the morning for their customization stuff right? So I wake up later and i go grab a coffee first at this store my friend recommended because it's cheap + rly good.

As such, I casually stroll along the street with my earbuds in bc im cool and swag and feeling myself right? I finally find this coffee shop and step up to the counter to order, except what do i see?

A GORGEOUS, STUNNING GIRL MANNING THE CASHIER.

At this point i am in full blown panic. I have never met anyone so pretty in my life. Her hair was silky smooth and dyed a light platinum-ish shade, and her makeup was flawless. her skin? dewy like a morning glory in bloom. Her entire figure and being? goddesslike.

at this point i am sweating buckets just from the thought of talking to her. but it's fine, right? its just a cup of coffee. i can do this.

i then proceed to ABSOLUTELY FUMBLE MY WORDS.

I just wanted this pretty drink called a franobe guys. thats all i wanted. but i got so shy and she couldnt hear me saying franobe so she kept going 'ah, latte?' and guys. i almost died on the spot.

I repeated it like 2x before she got what i was trying to say. Quick PSA that i am not fluent in korean at all, and understand more than i can speak. she asks me something in korean and i just go 'ne?' with wideass eyes like id just seen my newborn child or some shit.

anyway i finally manage to pay and get my drink and i walk away with my head practically in my hands. up till this day i am paranoid she thinks im an idiot. this is my chicken and croffles story for all you guys out there.

also im straight but this is one of the rare exceptions i lost my composure fr. what can i say? im w e ak.

im really glad you liked this chapter !! if it's one trait i could've given my characters or reader oc its the endless funds to go cafe hopping. cafe hopping is so, so fun, but so, so expensive like goddamn let me live my main character life in peace fr....

it's euphoric to hear that you liked the little moments !! i enjoyed thinking through those and just going like ah yes, he would say this! i really love writing or thinking about the small moments that lead up to the big picture. (also @buthowboutno-spamming gave me such great advice regarding this, and i wouldnt have been able to flesh out my fic and vision if not for his advice)

michael deserves to get his dick chopped off fr. but it's okay!! I plan for all my characters to go through developmental arcs lmfao, ive gotten too attached to the two idiots to let go of their potential now :)

Go get some fruit-ade or make some yourself bro it's super easy super good. lmk if you want a recipe and im more than happy to provide~

[silvereternitywrites]

Red Rooster

Prompt: It turns out, chickens will hatch any eggs in their nests. This hen is a little concerned about her newest child, but she's going to teach him how to be a good chicken, no matter how much like a dragon he looks. Prompt Source: user nobodysgeese; subreddit “Writing Prompts”

"My son," the oldest of the hens in the yard (the one the rest of the flock gave the highest respect, calling her 'Roostmother' and accepting chastisement no matter how much they felt it undeserved) crooned lovingly to the largest of the current chick-flock, "you are strong, and you are tall, and you are beautiful. And you are still my son."

Henry, the chick's name, ducked his head respectfully the way he'd learned from the hen who'd hatched him, sitting next to the Roostmother with his tail in the dirt and never looking her in the eye.

"Of course, Roostmother. All the chicks are yours, as all the hens are your sisters and daughters. Have I done something to make you think I do not know this?"

"No, my son," she croaked, throat fluttering as she watched the current cock-in-favor strut at the edges of the yard, keeping watch for hawks and other hunters. "But it is important for you to remember, before I tell you this tale, that no matter what, you are my son, and I am your Roostmother, and this flock is your family."

Henry settled in, fluffing his wings (which didn't quite work; his wings still hadn't grown in any feathers, primary, secondary, or down, but they did have skin stretched between long bones and his back, with a glimmer just starting to bud along his skin that the Roostmother hoped were his under-feathers coming in, even if they seemed oddly shiny) and giving her all his attention just like any other chick at story-time in the evenings when the hens gathered around in the warmth of the coop and the roosters took turns sporting and guarding the door until sunrise heralded the time of rest was over.

"It is a tale from the long-ago, long before my mother's mother's mother was even a thought in her own mother's head," she clucked, softly, a cadence she had known since she was a chick much smaller than he and listening attentively to her Roostmother telling this same tale.

"In the long-ago, we were bigger than we are in the now. Three, perhaps four times- as tall as a swan, and as big as the wild turkeys our cocks sometimes drive off. The stories say that we could smell like the fox and the wolf, and our talons were fit to rival the great eagle, vision sharp as hunting hawks, and like the now, we were smart enough to live in flocks, led by the strength of our Roostmothers and guarded by our cocks so that we could circle together and form up to destroy the threats that came for us, just as we do now. The strongest of us always, always show some traits from the long-ago. Future Roostmothers- or the cocks that sire them- have one or more of those things we lost then. We ruled then, and rule now. Our servants that protect and guard us, and rid us of the dud eggs so that we are not troubled with the effort, and bring their tributes in appreciation for our majesty, are the ones we tamed in the long-ago. If you grow to become a chicken with many of the traits of the long-ago, the time may be now to gather more such servants. And as Roostmother it is my duty to ensure you are raised a good chicken, knowing Flock and protection, knowing love and fury, knowing that turning against the Flock will get you Culled by us or our servants before you could do worse damage."

Henry bobbed his head, tail swishing back and forth as his wings fluffed again.

"I understand, Roostmother. I will mind my elders and my lessons so I do not need to be Culled. But, respectfully...for right now..."

"Yes, yes, go play with your friend. Has she earned her name from her Queen yet?"

Henry's head ducked in the embarrassment gesture this time. "So far, her kitten-name is 'Tail-Puller'. She wins more often than I do at our gaming."

Loudly clucking with laughter, she sent her son off to play, and returned to the very serious business of running the yard with an iron talon.

Almost 200 years later, a red dragon who was convinced he was descended from dinosaurs demanded chickens be allowed to roam free in all his lands, and every family who served him had at least one chicken.

Other dragons wondered why on earth his humans had such shiny hair and healthily glowing skin, but the constant crowing of chickens made for conversations with their neighbor difficult, so they never did find out.

[squeiky]

My hand hurt but for some reason I keep rotating this dude in my mind like rotisserie chicken.

So here’s FS! Silver that I haven’t made full fledged showcase for the design but you.. comprehend my vision here I’m having thoughts

There is something so so wrong with this Silver. He’s got nothing (no powers, no swag, no money) He works at Celery (tm). He has wears a big ass hoodie for no reason, he can’t fucking sleep, he has ONE piercing. He is as tall as Elise.

Please understand my vision🙏🙏🙏 thank you