#i rewatched that bit like five times

[keeperofthehyperfixations]

Ok dnp's editor did a fantastic job with this video. I was dying the entire time

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sequel to this ramble cause the way james talks bout the reduced cherik scenes throughout the xmen films in this video is making me want to kill people. 'we'll always have paris darling' what if we all blew up.

[chrysalizzm]

“ranboo has broken free” SHUT UP AUSTIN AND JERMA WERE TOTALLY ABOUT TO KISS

[redgoldblue]

for the drabble spotify wrapped game, if you want: i rolled my rainbow d10 twice and we have a 75 🌈

❤️ 🌈

75: America's Sweetheart by Elle King

uh. I don't know where this came from. i apologise, my partner-in-fluff 🫡

Also I am obviously not abiding by the technical 100-word definition of drabble here, but instead the much looser 'short piece of writing'.

spotify wrapped drabbles!

Steve doesn't know when he stopped caring about killing people. It didn't bother him until he started caring again.

It's not anyone unusual, is the thing that gets him. It's a nameless, almost-faceless drug smuggler that he didn't even mean to kill, but he shot with intent to disable and a little too much carelessness in a rush to stop the ship they came in on, and when he finally loops back around there's a pool of blood and a corpse with a busted femoral artery.

He's kneeling down, checking a pulse even though it's clearly absent, removing weapons even though he'll clearly have no use for them, when his fingers brush against a thin edge in the inside pocket of the off-the-rack grey suit jacket the guy's wearing.

When he pulls it out, it's a photo. He has to look down to check that it's the same guy in it, partially because death rictus changes a face, especially when your comparison is smiling and happy, and partially because he just hasn't looked at his face properly. It's the same guy, his arm around a similarly smiling woman shoulder-height to him and so close in features she has to be his sister, with a chubby-cheeked frizzy-haired kid straddling his shoulders and holding onto the woman's hand.

One of the first things the military teaches you, explicitly or not, is to erase personhood. Your own, and your enemy's. Numbers, statistics, body parts and targets and usefulness.

He puts the photo back into the dead man's jacket and moves away. A tech comes at some point, body-bags him, and Duke is there and the rest of his team have it well in hand, so he goes back to where their cars are parked, boosts himself onto the hood of the truck, and waits.

Kono walks past at some point, but they're still in the midst of cleanup and HPD handover, so even though she does slow and ask, "You okay, boss?", when he replies in the affirmative she nods and keeps moving.

He remembers himself before. He remembers when it would never would have occurred to him not to think that every person with a bullet in them is a person with a family. A person with a life, at least before they were a person with a death.

He doesn't bother trying to count. The impulse washes over him, but it would take hours with military records and Five-0 reports to calculate anything even close to accuracy.

Himself before was decades ago, but also not that long ago. It was target practice at the Academy and work behind computers in Military Intelligence and crawling through mud with a similarly young Freddie by his side.

Himself after, apparently, is sitting on his own truck at the edge of his own city watching his family and his family's family and his friends and his friends' friends move efficiently through shipping containers and body bags.

Eventually, Danny finds him. He takes one look at Steve's face; he doesn't say anything, just leans against the hood next to Steve and waits.

Eventually, Steve finds the words. "I don't think the military would like me anymore, Danny."

It's not all that new a state of affairs; he got driven by revenge and tattoos in non-regulation places and too many personal attachments and he remembered how to have fun in quiet spaces and how to love in loud ones. He started caring again.

"Good," Danny says, harsh and definite, and Steve realises with a start that the things that would debase him in the eyes of his country are probably exactly the same reasons Danny - not just Danny, his whole family - would cite for loving him. Except the tattoos, maybe.

He can't bring himself to be upset about it in the face of that.

[starbuck]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ravenous (1999) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: John Boyd, Reich (Ravenous) Summary:

“Evening, coward.”

Boyd’s eyes flutter open. He’s in the pit again.

—————————————

Finally finished this - enjoy! 

[nartml]

i miss my little brother

[kneworder]

i have all these draft documents of half finished fics full of lines i love but that are so fundamentally flawed i can't figure out how to finish them and can't kill my darlings mercilessly enough to get past the roadblocks so i just reread them over and over and think damn this is kinda fire. wish it was anywhere near shareable.

[todayisafridaynight]

Okay I hadn't rewatched The Eye Scene in quite a while but

The absolute Symbolic Powerhouse that is this shot:

2. Jo mockingly switching to a Kansai accent for a sec? I never noticed it before but GOOD GOD. Also very cool for Tsutsumi since he's a Kansai native but never gets the opportunity to speak it, even outside of his roles.

3. This isn't even anything I just have Mine's dialogue embedded into my DNA sequence at this point, but. The similarity in how he and Jo structure the start and end of these sentences.

1.) dawg its the way he carefully cradles his hand after puncturing a bro's eye in it's fuckin with me truly and thoroughly

2.) IT IS REAL GOOD AINT IT THE BIT'S SOOOO... i actually didnt know tsutsumi was from kansai but that explains why it sounds so good the few times i've heard it

3.) it COULD be Not Anything but it also COULD be SOMETHING... like another addition to my Mine/Sawashiro cork board....

[fragmentedblade]

I've been reading about xiangqi a bit and now I'm even more obsessed with that one video of Jing Yuan

[danikatze]

I was tagged by @tj-dragonblade for the last line tag game! Thank you 😊 The last time I added to a fic was a week and a half ago - wanna get back into it but I've been busy with rewatching things I used to watch between 2006-2010 lol. Anyway the bit is:

It didn't come entirely out of the blue when Ume started demanding answers around the time Yaichi got arrested. Out of the Five Leaves, Ume was always the most open and honest. In broad lines everyone knew his background, which is more than could be said about the others. Still, Matsu didn't think that Ume would would start inquiring about his sex life of all things. Matsu didn't even really talk about that with most of the people he was about to sleep with.

Also, I started sketching for Inktober. I wanna use this year's Inktober to draw stuff for movies/series/characters I've never drawn before. Hence the rewatching! This is Virginia from 10th Kingdom <3

[ID in alt text]

(If anyone's curious about 10th Kingdom, you can watch it for free on youtube :)) )

[holytrickster]

dante forgot to add one more circle of hell for people who make up clickbait about a firefly reboot I KEEP FUCKING SEEING THESE ARTICLES and I just sit there like. who in their right mind would go "let's make firefly 2"

[livvyofthelake]

i’m really slaying movie january actually. not even actively being like I Have To Watch A Movie Every Day just like i want to watch a movie every day. and also i’m not watching any shows so that helps but whatever. i’ve watched 25 movies this year. 7 of them have been new, and 8 have been movies i haven’t watched it at least a year so they’re kind of like new… if i can continue this energy maybe i’ll finally get to a goal of watching a new movie every day… or at least most days. sorry for being a chronic rewatcher sorry for knowing what i like sorry for being able to find something new to love in each viewing. some people just don’t understand…

[ivegotyourcarkeys]

Still sick and rewatching rlm videos, marvelling once again at the variety of Jay's hairstyles and facial hair vs Mike and Rich's hair barely changing over the last decade.

[ylangelegy]

mingyu is absentmindedly scrolling through instagram reels when he finds a video of a content creator in his kitchen. his caption is simple enough: meals i made for my girlfriend this week.

mingyu watches, slightly bored, as the influencer shows off everything from at-home matcha lattes to vegetable omelettes. he's just about to scroll away when the influencer shows off the last meal: a bento box.

mingyu rewatches that part once. thrice, even. he's had dosirak countless of times before, but this one is different. it's— cute.

mingyu looks up a hashtag of #bentoboxlunch and is absolutely floored. there's rice shaped like sanrio characters, and boiled eggs with nori eyes, and hotdogs cut up to look like octopi!

mingyu, who has always taken pride in cooking for you, in making your favorites of bibim-guksu and jajangmyeon, finds an entirely new purpose.

mingyu blows an inordinate amount of money on supplies. character picks, rice shapers, vegetable cutters. in between schedules, he watches how-to videos. when you're asleep at night or he wakes up earlier than you in the morning, he quietly pads around the kitchen to practice.

mingyu spends a good three or so months stealing away this new hobby, hiding it from you, until he decides his skills are up to par. with the intensity of which he's going about this, you'd think he's competing on master chef.

mingyu who, one morning, nonchalantly informs you, "i packed you lunch. let me know how you like it, okay?" you try to tell him that it isn't necessary, that you're a grown adult, thank you very much, but he pouts and whines until you take the lunch box anyway.

mingyu, whose leg bounces up and down all the hours leading up to noon.

mingyu, who has gotten a lot of praise across his life for many things. his skills as an idol. his physical appearance. but this? the text he gets of you gushing over the puppy-shaped mashed potatoes, over the boiled egg that's been cut to look like cherry blossoms? this is definitely a top five compliment.

mingyu enjoys this way too much. he learns more and more over time. heart-shaped tamagoyaki, doraemon constructed out of seaweed, rice that looks like snoopy. you tell him he's going overboard, doing too much, but how can anything be 'too much' when it's you?

mingyu doesn't even understand why he loves doing all this until, one day, you present to him sandwiches that have been cut in to stars and melon slices that are molded like diamonds. the sandwich is a bit dry, and the melon is out of season, but mingyu doesn't care. it's the best damn meal he's ever eaten.

mingyu, who has to hold himself back from proposing on the spot when you tease him, i love you, i want us both to eat well.

mingyu, who thinks to himself that he would cook for you for the rest of his life, if you'd let him.

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: mdni, adult content, p links BEWARE, sex tape, adult movies making

Idea about creating a porn account was very spontaneous. You were a panting spent mess covered in sweat spit and saliva, curling up next to Simon’s side, nuzzling your cheek against his hairy chest. Gazing up at the small screen attached to an old video camera that man was holding in his huge hand, Riley was rewatching the most recent video you two just spent about an hour to record.

Making sex tapes was nothing new for the two of you and, surprisingly, it was Simon’s idea originally, claiming that he needed some good jerk off material for when he’s deployed and web porn disgusted him. The words slipped off your tongue before your freshly fucked-out brain could even register them:

- Why don’t we post it? - you mumbled, words a bit slurred from four orgasms your boyfriend forced upon you. Simon’s brow shoot up, chocolate eyes gazing down at your flushed face inquisitively. - I mean, we’ll blur our faces and beep all the times we used our names. I think people will like our videos.

And to your astonishment Simon agreed. It took you a few hours to figure out what video redactor to use and how it worked, but in the end you got a 20 min tape of you two fucking, shameless moans and grunts coming from laptop speakers, you made sure that video didn’t contain any obvious information about your identities.

After creating an account on PH and twitter you uploaded the video after letting Simon give it some nasty name like “pounding my hot baby until she forgets her own name”, which made you cringe for the next five minutes. Pressing the “post” button you then shut down your laptop, crawling into Simon’s tight embrace and putting on a movie to watch, both of you wondering how many views your video will get.

And fucking yes, did it blow up.

1m views in one week.

Reference links containing porn!!!‼️🚨

Minors go fucking away and never come back‼️

One || Two || Three || Four

[famwhy]

Bereavement

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?

part two.

You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.

You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.

He was in the wrong universe.

Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.

Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.

The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.

All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.

"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"

With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.

The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—

—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.

"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."

"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.

"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."

You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.

"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."

You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.

"Miles! I'm here to—"

As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.

Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?

Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.

"...save you?"

They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.

Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.

The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.

"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.

"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.

You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."

"Don't worry about me! You have to—"

"Cariño."

You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?

"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.

"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"

Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.

Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.

"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."

"Wha—?"

"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."

You and your Miles shared a glance.

You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.

You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.

"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."

The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.

"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."

If what he was saying was true... then—?

"Y/N!"

Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.

"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.

"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"

You nodded.

Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.

"Miles—!"

"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."

You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.

It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.

One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—

—you were falling.

"Y/N!"

(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.

First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.

At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).

Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.

Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)