#but what a film man

[tiefy]

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[novakiart]

spideypool but it's a comedy of errors

[bixels]

I watched Starship Troopers tonight.

[raycatzdraws]

Wolfie and Four friendship appreciation doodles! They're shared secrets besties! I hope Four's distrust of the shadow crystal doesn't drive anything between them. Wild found his way into this compilation with a force. It seems I can't draw Wolfie and not include him too!

[anyataylorjoys]

POINT BREAK 1991 dir. Kathryn Bigelow

[mithrandirl]

Then an old wife, Ioreth, the eldest of the women who served in that house, looking on the fair face of Faramir, wept, for all the people loved him. And she said: ‘Alas! if he should die. Would that there were kings in Gondor, as there were once upon a time, they say! For it is said in old lore: The hands of the king are the hands of a healer. And so the rightful king could ever be known.’

[hamletthedane]

Love that Oppenheimer is a deeply disturbing horror movie about a man forced to accept that he is, in a person, the representative manifestation of mankind’s evil in committing one of the greatest horrors of human history - LITERALLY acting as the modern Prometheus, tormented by his sins for the remainder of time. Knowing that he will never be pitied and his actions will forever be utterly unforgivable because the blood of genocide and the potential of total human annihilation will eternally drip from his hands.

But also the simultaneous indictment by the film that to blame a single person for the Manhattan Project is to refuse to accept your own capacity for great evil if the ends ever seem to justify the means, and the culpability of every member of a species that lets itself create something so unspeakably terrible.

Hate that twitter’s take on such a nuanced and brilliantly handled examination of those issues is “movie bad because protagonist not evil enough.”

[honehonn3honey]

What happens to this empty place, waiting for my arrival...

Rook in my heart. You can read the monster list here @lustlovehart

[Alt under the cut]

This is the original version but God, I don’t see anything else and I didn’t want others to get hurt watching

Now here I put my thoughts as I drew him:

I think our beautiful creature doesn't really have a human anatomy, his limbs are long and with very little muscle covering. Their bones could click together if it fully manifested. Claws replacing part of the bony fingers and nails. You could feel the long ribs behind that thick sack

He doesn’t need beyond his big and cool gothic sack to cover his abnormal appearance, after all the is no more shadows and fog for everyone’s eyes

The darkness consumes you from the pores, in each puff of lungs, you could become one with him and he would be delighted

I feel that it is detached from all worldly, but I would keep a thing or two of those who most appreciate... like the feathers of Neige or a brooch of Vil

[lacedwithfemtanyl]

NEED.

[yunogf]

the voice of the people

[acrowbyanyothername]

is wolverine playing along or is he but a cog in the machinations of a world forcing him to take part in a monty python sketch.

[lanitashiddencrackstash]

[the-crooked-library]

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Ellen’s sex scene with Thomas is weird, unsexy, frantic, fully clothed and disturbing, while Ellen’s sex scene with Orlok, literal corpse, is slow, detailed, sensual, and they are both naked. The juxtaposition.

exaaactlyyyy!! it's about the INTIMACY

regardless of how desperate both Ellen and Thomas may be to conform to their socially acceptable marriage (they're both distinctly queercoded, Ellen wants passion, Thomas cannot give it, both of them see each other as a duty), they still do not and cannot understand each other. Ellen, who comes from a wealthy but abusive home, cannot imagine prioritizing material success over love and connection; Thomas, who self-deprecatingly refers to himself as a "pauper," cannot imagine ostracizing himself so completely from the society that very easily jeopardizes the livelihood of anyone non-conforming. There is a distinct lack of intimacy between them, only partially breached by anger and confrontation; which is, indeed, illustrated by their fully clothed, aggressive scene. It is more of an argument than sex.

Ellen's death-wedding with Orlok is entirely different - as you said, slow, sensual, reverent; it centers their closeness above all. They cling to one another, both overcome with emotion (self-professed inability to love be damned), perfect living skin against rotting flesh; the visual implication here is that there is, quite literally, nothing between them. They know each other entirely, the flaws, the beauty, and that understanding is more important than their own life or death.

One is a sex scene that is actually a fight, the other is a lovemaking disguised as murder, and I am obsessed

[btxtyuri]

five nights at freddy's 2 movie being rated R but the only reason it's rated R it's because of the william and henry 15 minutes explicit sex scene

[sandflakedraws]

Okay I’m not even into trolls or anything, but that height analysis was pretty cool and interesting lol

Any more things you analyzed? (Or even a fun fact, idk, just wanna see people talk about things they like)

i've analyzed quite a lot but one thing i haven't seen other folks fully explore is the horrific living conditions in that bottle.

i know why it's not covered in film, cause again, this story is a silly musical comedy for kids! and if it were given it's full appraisal, the tone of the movie would be absolutely shot.

...

but like,,,, it's so dang bad in there my dude. it's SO bad.

like, in it's upright position, the diamond's base isn't big enough for floyd to lay down on, without cricking his neck severely.

so even when we see him drifting to sleep, he's sitting. minimum 2 months of trying to sleep sitting up. (against a cold/hard surface no less)

(he's also got an instant-wake response to . someone lightly tapping on the door. . .)

oh and also! the air in there has gotta be super thin, as there is but a single breathing hole at the top of it, not even as wide as a troll finger.

and that's ! when it's not capped off ! most of the time, it's got the spritz cap on, making it even harder for any air to circulate in there.

while we're at it ; since that's the only opening (no clasps, no grooves, no visual indicators that it can open via any other method at all, hence the film's conceit that the brothers need to hit the PFH to free him), i'm inclined to believe that it's also the only way to get food to him...

... which is to say you can have your pick of many terrible options for that. whether velvet & veneer tried to mash something through there, or have him sip from the world's worst gerbil feeder,

or they just. didn't feed him at all. and he's only alive because it's a magic world.

wHICH IS STILL SAYING NOTHING ABOUT HOW THEY ACTUALLY HANDLE HIM

plugging those excerpts cause. y. yeah... they're not gentle with him at all. bro is Bruised to all hell.

.... and none of this has to do with the actual core threat in the movie, which is having his core forcefully ripped from his body, leading to the whiteness and crystallization we see goin on.

in conclusion i need way more art/fics covering floyd's recovery okay? okay.