#idk if I’ll write more for this

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Oh my god, I’m like so stressed but of course I decide to start writing something else while In the midst of writing something else. 🙄 so have a bit of venom steve with spiderman eddie. Promise that Never Say Die will be updated tomorrow after I get out of school (:

Eddies fingers stuck to the ceiling, somehow holding his entire weight. Now, years later he was still confused as to how the hell a ceiling didn’t just collapse when he was crawling across it. There is no explanation for the things he can do. All he knows his that he can do them, and no matter what he’s going to bring Justice for his Uncle. The Harrington’s were the last stone that was left unpicked. The last clue to the mystery. If he didn’t find answers here then Wayne Munson’s death was going to be for nothing. And worst of all his Uncle wouldn’t receive Justice. So that’s how he finds himself crawling around Robert Harrington’s office. Waiting patiently for the older man to leave.

The man’s glasses were falling off his nose, but he was so concentrated on reading his papers that he doesn’t even notice. Whatever that was in those documents must be really important. Eddie moves closer to the window like doors that lead to the balcony. Of course the rich bastard had those. Slowly, and as silent as possible he drops down from the ceiling. Crouching on the carpet, hoping that he didn’t make a wrong move and alert the man. Which was why he hadn’t entered through the doors now behind him. Carefully, he crawls to one of the curtains. Using it as a cover, moving and standing behind it. Becoming one with the cloth. He felt stupid but he didn’t care.

His legs start to ache from standing for so long. Twenty minutes pass before anything exciting happens. Robert Harrington’s doors fling open the rest of the way. A loud crack from the wall, where the door knob created a reasonable hole in. There, stood the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. Wearing a outdated polo and blue jeans. If he wasn’t currently on a mission, he would have fallen on his face from stupidity. He would be lying if he said there wasn’t a slight drool puddle forming in his mask. He knew he was gay, but this guy buried any doubt in his mind (which there was very little to begin with) into the ground.

His eyes have a fiery look to them. Like he was on a rampage of some sort. How a angel like him could possibly hurt a fly was beyond him.

“Stop drooling over Steve Fucking Harrington, Eddie. And focus on what they’re talking about. The suits not catching their voices dipshit.” Henderson’s voice startles Eddie back to his main purpose. If he could move, he would shut off his ear piece the other hand made him. Internally he’s already making note to swat the little shit upside the head when he got home.

Discreetly moving his hand, he subtly rolls one of the gadgets Dustin made him. Watching it roll under Robert Harrington’s desk. The mic catching their voices now. Though Eddie could hear them with the naked ear, Dustin could not.

“Father-” Steve Harrington’s voice is louder then what Eddie imagined it to be. Though he doesn’t understand why he was imagining it in the first place.

“Don’t talk to me like that young man. Remember who you’re talking to.” Mr. Harrington’s voice is in a low growl. Holding his authority the best he can. Though, like with his business the authority he once had over his son was slipping through his finger tips.

“Yeah- I’m talking to Robert Harrington. The biggest fraud of New York City.” Steve has a feral grin on his face. Eddie could barely see him through the curtain, his heart was racing as he’s sure he could see him if he glanced over at any second. “Now- Mom wanted me to tell you, that Dinners done. And that if you don’t go down to eat, she’s going to to cut your balls off.” Steve grins.

“Eddie there’s something off about him.” Dustin’s carefully mumbling into his ear now. “Look at his hands.” He points out.

Eddie listens almost immediately. Eyes flashing towards the others hands that now gripped the corners of his fathers desk. His veins didn’t look right. They looked black? And like they were crawling under his skin. Eddie wasn’t sure what was making his hands to look like that but there was something terribly wrong. He’s heard tales about the Harrington boy. About how he was the nicest one out of them. Now Eddie didn’t personally know him, but his gut was telling him that there was something off about this guy. Most likely he didn’t act like this way normally.

Robert Harrington stands up, jaw set tightly as he moves slamming the book that he was looking through. Moving and closing it in a drawer and locking it shut. Before he’s moving, walking out of the room without a word. Steve’s eyes immediately flicker to the curtain. A amused look on his face as he relaxes his shoulders a bit. “You know there are better hiding places in here.” He says calmly. Hands fidgeting a bit as his veins seem to start to crawl faster. Wrapping themselves around his hands.

Eddie doesn’t see the point in hiding anymore. He moves, walking carefully with his hands up in defense. Steve’s eyes never leave him. “What are you doing in my fathers study?”

“Looking for answers.” Eddie says simply. Sounding vague.

“Hm- mind sharing with the class?” Steve sasses. Crossing his arms over his chest. Hiding his hands, trying to control whatever that was currently happening to his body. Though Eddie could now see that the others veins on his neck were beginning to do the same thing. Moving up to his face, which was scrunching up in a pained expression.

“Eddie.” Dustin’s warns. Sounding a bit to anxious for Eddie’s liking.

“Um- Justice? Hey dude are you alright?” Eddie asks moving forward carefully. Not expecting the other to turn violent. Just as fast as the other entered the office, whatever black substance takes over his body. Reaching out and grabbing ahold of Eddie, before throwing him out the glass door.

Before he is forcefully removed from the others property though, he swears he catches a glimpse of panic and remorse written all over Steve Harrington’s face. Up until whatever that shit was, warps it’s self around his face. Creating a new one. One that he recognized from a few of his past crusades.

Venom

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023

day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4

[darby-rowe]

dbf!logan being the only person available to drive you to your gynecologist appointment while your car is out of commission. the car ride is excruciatingly painful as the older man tries to strike up conversation with you that’s clearly one-sided. there’s even a point where he asks you what the appointment is for, and you almost don’t answer him, but you also don’t wanna be rude so the words gingerly leave your lips.

“pap smear,”

you watch him nod out of the corner of your eye, one hand on the steering wheel, arms nearly bulging out of his white tank top. the familiar stench of alcohol is ever present with this man. the tension between the two of you grows tighter.

“sorry i asked,” he says, almost comedically to ease the obvious weirdness in the air. “i don’t have any kids of my own. i never had to, uh—“ he clears his throat. “deal with any of this, so…”

“mhm,” you say.

once you two arrive at the ob/gyn office, you swear you’ve never felt more relieved to be at a doctor’s office.

“do you need me to go in—?”

“no,” you answer, unintentionally cutting him off as you hook your bag onto your shoulder and crawl out of logan’s car.

“should only be half an hour or so,” you tell him. “so, i mean… you can hang out here, or… i dunno. don’t want you to be just sitting here, haha,”

“you can just call me when you’re done and i’ll be back here to pick you up, ‘kay?”

you press your lips together, rocking back and forth on your heels as your hand rests on top of the car door. “yeah, i’ll text you,”

logan shakes his head. “call me instead,”

you stand there for a moment more. “okay. thanks again,”

“see you in a bit, bubba,”

[sadgirlautumn]

I will be doing so fine until my silly little distraction is over and then suddenly I’m sad

[theminecraftbee]

Afterwards, they do a race. They don’t talk about it, but it’s there, between them still. Something settled between them. Cleo doesn’t know how to say it; they never know how to say things like this. Still, they need to, so they wait until Ren’s race is over and then hike through the jungle to go sit on top of Etho’s base and wait for him to show up as well.

He doesn’t. He’d gone to their base. Instead of just showing up for each other, they have to somewhat awkwardly coordinate over text which base to meet at. It forces everything to feel more real.

When they finally meet up, it’s in the shopping district, leaning against the button. A dangerous game in theory, but Cleo’s not fully convinced it can explode at this point, so.

Cleo breathes. They’re both quiet for a moment.

"Okay, so like, are we doing this?" Cleo says.

"I don’t really know, uh, what this is," Etho says, "but I… care about you. I think. So I think we’re doing that."

Cleo nods once. "You know I don’t fall in love, right? I’m not going to fall in love with you, I don’t do that. Might say something about loving you, but it’s not the same thing. Different sense of the word. It’s different, loving people and falling in love, got it? And I won’t do that second thing. I’m never going to do that second thing. I don’t--"

"Okay. I know," Etho says.

"Do you?" Cleo asks.

"I mean, not entirely, but I’m frankly surprised we’re having this conversation in the first place. I never expected you to be in love with me."

"But I’m not," Cleo says. "I’m attracted to you, and I love you as like, a companion and friend or whatever, but I’m not in love with you. I’m. Ugh. I wish I knew the right words. I just--I also don’t let go of things so if we’re doing this you’re going to have to get used to that real fast. Me not being in love with you but me not letting you go, both of those things."

"You're attracted to me? Aw, Cleo," Etho says.

"Don't be an ass," Cleo says.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just, geez, this is--a heavy conversation, huh?"

Cleo sighs. "We'll work on the deflection."

Etho rubs the back of his head and looks away. "Uh, in that case. If I'm maybe a little in love with you--"

"I can't--I can't reciprocate that, Etho," Cleo says, and their voice cracks as they do.

"I know," Etho says. "I just want to make sure it's okay, then."

"You can't help that, can you? Just like I can't help that I still sort of want to kill anyone who hurts you."

Etho seems to think about it for a while. Cleo resists the urge to fidget. She's a zombie. She shouldn't have the urge to fidget; she should be too dead for that. Besides, it's hardly like it's a secret she doesn't fall in love, exactly. It's just... it's only relevant sometimes. Feeling like, as she watches Etho and Bdubs dance around each other, she's on the outside looking in. She'd kill to hold their hands, to protect them, hell, even to kiss them--but that's different. She just can't summon the same emotion of... she doesn't know.

Martyn had almost gotten it, for all he didn't get anything else, in the end. Scott was never going to fall in love with her in the first place, for obvious reasons. Whatever attraction she and Pearl have going on, it's definitely not love.

But this...

"Okay," Etho says.

"That's it?" Cleo says.

"I mean, does it need to be anything else?" Etho says. "It's not like we can just... not do this. I think it's too late for that. Whatever 'this' is. I'm in love, and you aren't, but we'd both be pretty upset to lose this, right? So I'll... figure it out."

Cleo swallows. They feel small. "Will you? Do you understand?"

Etho shrugs. "I understand that it's you, and it's you that this happened with, not anyone else."

"Okay," Cleo says. "Okay."

"Is it okay if I kiss you? Just to try it, I mean. Not like, as a--this is a bad time, actually, I don't want to try to make any kissing we do romantic, I mean, you just told me this won't be romantic, I--"

"Yeah, sure, you can kiss me," Cleo says, and he leans in to kiss them. It's nice. A little soft for what they'd want, really, but nice. He leans back. He looks them in the eyes.

"I get it a little more now."

Cleo is baffled. "How? Kissing is just like, a thing we did? How does that have anything to do with any of the rest of this."

Etho laughs. "I definitely get it a little more now. What do you want to tell the others? I know they're definitely gossiping."

"Ugh. Can we just, like, not?" Cleo says. "I don't want to have to explain it."

"I'll just be confusing then, got it," Etho says, and Cleo can't help but laugh themselves.

"This is why you're my favorite," Cleo says, and they think maybe this will work out okay, after all.

[myokk]

fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

[ghost-proofbaby]

are you scared yet?

welcome, ghouls and freaks, to my take on the infamous kinktober. follow along with me for the next five weeks as we go through all the dirtiest of fantasies (as well as some softness, because it's me) that october and this season can bring. no fictional character is safe, no kink unturned.

let's get horny spooky, friends.

WEEK 1: VAMPIRIC DESIRES

everyone knows i love a vampire, but just how much love can we show one of the best metaphors of all time for all-consuming love? let's find out.

WEEK 2: IS IT TOO MUCH?

because everyone loves a classic over-stimulation kink. but just how far can we take it?

WEEK 3: THE HUNT

category is: primal play. what better way to spend a perfect october evening than to be chased through the woods with your lover, heart pounding as you, the prey, feel the predator creeping closer and closer?

WEEK 4: SWEET LIKE CANDY

trick or treat! it's your lucky day: you get a treat. a brief intermission from all the smut, just to focus on all the possible cute scenarios we could get into with our favorite fictional characters.

WEEK 5: SOMEBODY'S WATCHING ME

did someone order voyeurism, with a side of threesomes? no? well, i did.

[fishyartist]

Ui idea tests, thrown together bc im eepy. Was planning on doing more but I spent all my days energy on the second one oops

[clockwork-carstairs]

“You made yourself a different person than the one I loved” – on Kit’s letter, his projections & idea of Ty

aka where i try to make sense of kit’s letter in the context of who ty was to him. basically i think that understanding that kit may not have had an accurate image of ty in his head helps to contextualise why kit believes the things he does, regardless of whether they’re fair to ty or not. it makes more sense reading lines like:

“in all the world, kit had never met anyone he believed to be so incapable of evil”

“all his energy had gone into ty, all his devotion and hopes for the future”

because you can see so clearly how much kit was projecting onto ty. ty, more than a friend—or whatever you might call it—was also the personification of this new world and all it meant for kit. kit saw him as this overwhelming force of good, beautiful as an angel, someone who not only wouldn’t do evil but was “incapable” of it.

so you can kind of see why everything was lost for kit once ty went through with the necromancy: because by doing so he was breaking the image kit had of him. of ty as a saviour of sorts from kit’s previous life, the person who convinced him to stay, who made kit feel like he was really a part of something, something magical and exclusive that not everyone got to be.

further evidenced by other lines:

“he had been too fixated on losing ty to tell him what he needed to hear” -> kit knows he should have told ty much sooner how he really felt about the situation. kit knows he deflected and in various ways lied to ty about trying to bring livvy back. but kit had wanted to stay by ty’s side, stay included in ty’s plans, more than his desire to tell ty the truth that he hated the idea.

“you made yourself a different person than the one i loved” -> ty as a person being shaped by kit’s projections of all his hopes and dreams, the face of this new world kit was drawn into, the first person he really got close to after he was pulled from one world to another, the person who convinced him to stay.

was the “person [kit] loved” an accurate reflection of who ty really was, flaws and all? unlikely. and the image of ty in kit’s head didn’t allow room for the real ty’s complicated, overwhelming grief, either, and the ways he would try to cope with it: and i believe this is part of why kit was so shocked by what happened and why he’s still so angry at ty. because ty proved to him that he wasn’t what kit believed him to be, and so all of kit’s hopes for his new life came crumbling down.

do i think it’s fair to ty? no, i don’t. but i think both can be true: that kit is upset and had gone through a traumatic situation, and has valid feelings about it while also understanding that he had a very skewed perception of ty that wasn’t fair to him.

mostly i think we need more room for understanding ty’s feelings*. how it must have felt to lose his twin sister in a horrifying way, devised a plan that (to him) seemed completely reasonable** only to have his best friend switch up on him last minute, tell ty he loved him mid-ritual, later say he wished he’d never met ty and basically tell ty that he was selfish and then on top of that leave without saying goodbye.

i also stand by my belief that “how long do you think it will take you to forgive me” is something both ty and kit could/should be asking each other, not just one way around. i honestly don’t understand why both kit and ty would think only kit needs to forgive ty and not both ways. mostly i just don’t think the narrative that ty’s the only one who needs forgiving is very fair, or makes much sense with their characterisation + the context + what actually happened.

in sum, when kit says “you made yourself a different person than the one i loved”, the person he’s referring to is an idealised version of ty whom he had projected all his hopes and dreams for the future onto, and by going through with the necromancy ty completely shattered kit’s understanding of him. this is consistent with other lines in his letter: “you wanted that more than you wanted me”, “when you brought livvy back, you changed yourself” (did ty really change? or did he just prove to be different from kit’s idea of him? genuine question), and perhaps most strongly evidenced by this line: “i don’t know the person you are now. you took yourself away from me. i can’t forgive that.” i don’t understand why he can’t forgive ty for not being the person kit thought he was, nor how on earth ty was supposed to know this, but i digress.

* i hope this is addressed in TWP because between TDA and now, we’ve had FAR more insight into kit’s thought processes than ty’s and as such we’re only really seeing one side of the situation.

** i also think part of the glaring misunderstanding between kit and ty can be understood from their respective backgrounds. obviously for kit, growing up away from the shadowhunter world, something like necromancy is completely out of the question. the way it would be for you or me. but ty grew up in a world where bringing people back to life was something that could and had actually happened. so it’s a far crazier, more impossible idea to kit than it would’ve been to ty.

[poyitjdr]

Aight hear me out: Zoro gets cursed fuckin’ Ella Enchanted style and he accidentally discovers that written commands *also* count after Sanji’s “kiss the cook” apron triggers it. Sanji stuffs the apron into a random drawer in Chopper’s office (he can’t seem to bring himself to actually get rid of it and that fact irritates the shit out of Sanji). Anyways, Zoro visits Chopper to discuss the curse from a medical point of view and Chopper pulls out the stupid fuckin’ apron and shows it to Zoro cause wtf is that in his desk drawer??? and BAM second kiss triggered

anyways that’s the exact line of thinking that got me to draw this lmfao

[fiveredlights]

new au. max and daniel as actors in the f1 film. im gonna tomdaya these bitches so hard they won’t know it’s coming.

Film Updates @/FilmUpdates ·

Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen are announced as the leads in the upcoming untitled film based on Formula 1.

180 replies 2,832 reposts 20,392 likes

maya 🏎️ @/boxboxferrari ·

wait you guys were actually serious when they were making an f1 film 🧍

28 replies 92 reposts 499 likes

emotionalsupportredbull

okay if they don’t make the two actors engage in a homerotic teammate relationship then they’re doing the movie wrong and it needs to be cancelled

#they’ll never do that because f1 are cowards but at least let me have a whiff of gay in it #if i don’t get a brocedes like relationship in that movie i’m gonna be pissed

283 notes

[ozzo-the-wozzo]

I need to you guys to stay with me and imagine Adrien Agreste experimenting with what to wear after he quits modeling but being hopelessly lost on where to start so, after much consideration, he gets the brilliant idea to mimic his friends clothing aesthetics.

So naturally one week he’s wearing a backwards cap and baggy jeans in an attempt to mimic Nino who is ecstatic and another he’s wearing a lot of flannel which makes Alya roll her eyes and another him and Marinette are practically twins much to his delight until she gently tells him he only likes it because they are matching and he should probably keep looking until he finds something that is his own.

But instead he just keeps on mimicking classmate after classmate until he runs through them all and he starts talking to Kagami who’s figuring things out herself and doesn’t provide much to go off of and he settles on wearing suits until someone mistakes him for Felix.

So then he decides to move on from people and starts to look on Pinterest at Marinette’s suggestion and he copies the outfits down to a science but why does everything STILL feel not right? He decides it’s the website so he moves on and copies what he sees in magazines and in ads and it feels a little better but he also feels a little sick when he does it and why isn’t anything right and he’s twisting the ring on his finger so much it’s leaving a mark and hes pacing around the mansion and it has so many portraits and his dad is in all of them and why is he suddenly getting the feeling nothing he puts on will ever be right and why in the world does this stupid ring feel so heavy.

And so after a month of experimenting, he gets up in the morning one day and decides to try on the outfit he always used to wear and attempts to do his grown out hair the old way and looks in the mirror and stares at himself for a while. He slips on his sneakers and then the door rings and he heads downstairs to meet Marinette for school. As they’re walking he is still trying to decipher what he feels and he suddenly realizes that his dad would like this outfit a lot. He smiles to himself and tells Marinette and she smiles weakly and says she supposes he would and then avoids his eyes.

Adrien feels that familiar twist in his stomach that tells him something isn’t right, but when he tries to reflect on why that would be he’s only met with the same fuzzy memories of his father that he can’t quite sort out. He wonders if that’s where the unease comes from but then he shakes his head because those memories must be good because his father died a hero.

And so he wears the same outfit he always wore, ignoring the fact it feels a little too tight on him and that it makes his new ring feel heavier than ever.

[leapdayowo]

THEM!!! <3

I love In Stars and Time SO MUCH (I haven’t finished it yet though… but eventually I will!)

And man… I’ve been rotating this story in my head for only a week, but the grip it has on my psyche is just- AHFKSKAKSJFNKJLDLS

The main group of characters have such a fun dynamic and they feel so multidimensional, and, without getting into spoilers too much, I love how the game then completely breaks down these characters. It’s kind of the epitome of ‘under what circumstances would this character do something that initially would be out of character for them to do’ and it’s DEVESTATING!! But in a good and interesting way!

also?? Also?? Such a good game to find right as we’re getting into pride month :33

[hippolotamus]

Way More Than Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the lovely and talented @kitteneddiediaz @tizniz @diazsdimples @spotsandsocks @inell @wikiangela Be sure to check their works!

IDK this has been rolling around in my brain since I first heard Casual. Sooo… 🦴 🍎 🦷

“C’mon, Luce,” Nat teases from the driver’s seat, poking Lucy’s thigh. “I play personal taxi and can’t even get a tour? Guess I need to up my game.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. Hopefully it’s more annoyed than fond. Honestly, Natalia could ask for a million things and Lucy would readily give them. At least, she wants to. She wants to want to. But that involves levels of vulnerability Lucy plans to keep locked up tighter than Diaz’s Catholic guilt.

“Your game’s fine, Dollenmeyer. I’ll show you around.” Lucy grabs her work bag and exits the car before Nat can gloat and kiss her about it.

Kinard and Thompson are chatting over coffee in the hangar, while Lee checks over the equipment in one of the birds.

“Well, if it isn’t my little ray of sunshine,” Kinard chirps, flashing his stupid, dazzling lovesick smile. God, Buckley’s got him so whipped. She’s happy for them but Jesus Christ. “And who do we have here?”

Tommy, ever the gentleman and charmer, takes Nat’s offered hand. “Tommy Kinard. One of Lucy’s favorite teammates,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about you!”

“This is Nat. Natalia,” Lucy interjects. “We were hanging out and she very nicely agreed to drop me off since my car’s in the shop.”

Beside her, Nat stiffens. Tommy raises an eyebrow, shooting a knowing look at Lucy.

This. This is why she tried to resist Nat’s offer and insisted an Uber would be fine. Because Lucy knows she’s fucked up. Knew she would before it happened. What’s worse is Tommy knows — or highly suspects — she fucked up. He was in the closet too long, and with too many shitty partners, to not see right through her. He’s going to give her hell about this.

“Uh, yeah,” Nat agrees, barely hiding the way her voice is trembling. She drops Tommy’s hand and clutches her purse tighter. “So, uh, gonna take a raincheck on that tour. Maybe another time. Nice to meet you.”

Nat doesn’t run back to the car but she may as well. She doesn’t look at Lucy once. Not with anger or sadness or disappointment. Not at all. Lucy bites the inside of her cheek and watches her go despite the desperate clawing thing in her chest that wants Nat to stay. Now. Forever maybe.

She hikes her bag up on her shoulder, turning to walk toward the locker room, only to be met with Tommy still there. His arms are crossed and he doesn’t look at her with any judgement. It would be better than the almost pitying, understanding expression he’s wearing.

“What, Kinard?” She bites out, staring past him. “I have to change for my shift. Just- say it already.”

He watches her a moment longer, rolling his lips in, assessing. “Do I even have to?”

“I have to change for my shift,” she says again, biting her bottom lip, hard. Because she’s not going to get upset about this now. Just like she’s not going to think about waking up this morning, for the very first time, to Nat sleeping beside her, hair sprawled across the pillow while sunlight painted her bare back. How it made Lucy ache.

Tommy sidesteps, making a sweeping gesture to let her know she’s free to go anytime. She nods tightly, unable to meet his gaze as she passes.

“Y’know, I kinda wanted to hate her,” Tommy starts. Because he’s a bastard that way. She hates him. Hates him so fucking much for it that she loves him for being so goddamn forgiving and thought provoking. She swears he went to the Bobby Nash School of Life Advice and Mentoring.

She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

“Evan said nice things about her. Decent things anyway. Admittedly, I wasn’t crazy about why she was into him. But he didn’t have anything terrible. Being his first- I felt a little nervous and wanted to find something. Anything about the people in his past. You know how it can be with exes. Gets messy sometimes.” He pauses, probably sipping his lukewarm coffee. “And then they just- I don’t know, surprise the hell out of you in an unexpected way.” Another pause. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold you up anymore.”

His footsteps echo across the hangar, growing quieter. Lucy tightens her death grip on her bag and marches to the locker room. When she gets there, if she turns on the showers so she can cry in peace, that’s between her and the ancient tile and god.

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @dorkydiaz @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @beyourownanchor6 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @shipperqueen6 and anyone else who wants to 😘

[unordinary-diary]

Seraphina and Arlo: The Brainwashing of High Tiers

Exposition:

— Remi, Episode 50.

There is a heavy implication that Seraphina and Arlo were raised in much the same way. The pressure on Seraphina comes from her parents, so I’ll extrapolate that the same goes for Arlo. This raises the question: how do the authorities create such a strong societal pressure on such a small percentage of the population? Most high tiers will probably not know any other high tiers besides their parents. Take Wellston Private High School for example: it’s the most prestigious private school around, and canonically has the “highest concentration of high tiers in the region”. There are six high tiers in Wellston. Apply this to god tiers specifically, and there are only three. Not to mention that this current group of students is uniquely strong, even for Wellston. In Rei’s senior year, he was the strongest at 5.8 max.

So much of this brainwashing relies on the parents to do all of the work, and it only takes one or two people to break the cycle. So how are the authorities creating this immense pressure? One tactic could be by isolating high tiers. There is a very widespread concept that one shouldn’t associate with those outside their level range. A caste system like this that affects everyone is much easier to create and maintain than an expectation for a small group, and it also means that high tiers are only being influenced by those who are also high level. This creates an echo chamber. I’ve researched cults and how they brainwash victims, and the first step in the process is isolating them in exactly this way.

But, if there are so few high tiers, how the hell are they supposed be isolated from other groups? The answer is that high tiers are just isolated in general. Take a look at Arlo: his only friend is Remi, and even her, he keeps at an arm’s length. Arlo is only close with Remi in the first place because he was close with Rei, who, at the time of meeting Arlo, was presumably close in level with him. [EDIT: I forgot about Holden, which I think says a lot about his relevance. He is kept at more than an arm’s length and doesn’t seem to have any actual influence on Arlo, let alone a deep relationship. He is also not presented as an equal.] Take a look at Seraphina: before meeting John, she didn’t seem to have any friends other than possibly Arlo. Seraphina and Arlo pre-John seemed to have had more of a professional relationship, and while they were not close in level, Arlo did fit the bill of being a fellow god tier, and strong enough to also be brainwashed.

Now let’s look at Remi. In episode 60, Cecile says to Remi: “And yet here you are... Always hanging around those two monkeys, Blyke and Isen. Letting them treat you as an equal even though you’re in a completely different league.” This struck me as odd because, aside from Cecile herself, the Wellston students closest in level to Remi were Arlo, Blyke, and Isen. And who is she friends with? She actually was doing a pretty good job at following that social convention, unless Cecile wanted to be friends with Remi, which she clearly didn’t. But... her friends were still not close enough to her level. Was she supposed to just not have friends at all? The answer seems to be a resounding yes. Can you think of any genuine friends that Cecile has either?

Friendship simply isn’t considered a necessity for high tiers.

But... why is it that Arlo and Seraphina were brainwashed differently? Creating a societal norm for an isolated group of people is one thing, because those people’s mindsets feed into each other. Putting pressure on individual families to keep them in line, but doing it all in different ways? That would be near impossible. My theory is that Seraphina recieved the typical high tier brainwashing, and that Arlo was raised differently because he was being groomed to work for the authorities. Seraphina didn’t have a set career path planned out for her, but if she’s trying to be “perfect” by the standards of those controlling her, she’s bound to end up going in a direction that pleases them. Arlo on the other hand was specifically planned to become an authority figure. That’s why his brainwashing is so centered on leadership. Also, growing up with direct contact to the authorities makes it more possible for them to customize his brainwashing in this way.

But does all of this apply to high tiers in general, or is it specific to god tiers? Let’s take a look at the high tiers in Wellston. We have Seraphina, John, Arlo, Terrence, Remi, Cecile, and Blyke. John is a unique circumstance because he wasn’t raised by high tiers, so we’ll cross him off the list. Terrence was also unique, so we can cross him off as well. Remi was different from the norm as well. Why is that? Well, Remi actually wasn’t raised by high tiers either. Rei said on screen that both of his parents were elites. We can cross Remi off. Blyke doesn’t fit the bill either, but that’s easy to explain. He was an elite for a large part of the story, and he shot up rather quickly. We don’t know much of his family, but he probably wasn’t expected to be a high tier at all, and was raised as an elite. (All of this also serves to emphasize how much of this brainwashing comes from a person’s parents.) That leaves only Seraphina, Arlo, and Cecile to look at.

Cecile does seem to have high tier brainwashing, but it’s not nearly as intense as with Seraphina and Arlo. She doesn’t seem “obsessive”, and she wasn’t one of the examples Remi mentioned in chapter 50. It’s clear that high tiers are brainwashed in general, but god tiers are kept on a much shorter leash. This makes sense, obviously, because keeping a population in control like that is less necessary the lower the level. However, it’s also a chicken an egg situation: god tiers are both more important to keep in control, and also easier to keep in control. It’s important to note just how many exceptions we had to cross off. People like Remi and Blyke aren’t actually that unusual— a lower leveled high tier is much more likely to have non-high tier parents, or to have not always been a high tier themselves, or just in general, to have way more day-to-day interaction with non-high tiers. The brainwashing gets more and more diffused the lower down the ladder you go.

[hellsite-detective]

Hellsite Detective in…

The Miku Bind

sometimes, a detective has got to do some work for herself. and i decided it was time to go after one of my white whales…

it was a cool, rainy afternoon in Tumblr City, like always. i had just wrapped up doin’ some cases and i was broodin’ out the window. but one image kept flashin’ in my mind. a vocaloid lovin’ foundin’ father that i’ve sought for my whole career. the fabled Thomas Jefferson Miku Binder.

to start my journey, i went down to the Search Bar, a night club in the heart of the city. neon lights shined on the sign out front and music could be heard pourin’ out the front door. i stepped in, drippin’ wet from the rain outside. the place was lively as ever, groups minglin’ and dancin’ to the music. and there, in a corner booth away from everyone else, was Don Google. that big time mob boss that acts as my informant. they sat there playin’ poker with a couple of lackeys, no one of note from what i could tell. they saw me walkin’ up and immediately called out to the waiter for another drink.

“well well! if it ain’t my buddy, Miss Detective! whatcha here for?”

i’m here for personal business, actually. i’m lookin’ for this…

i slid a photograph across the table. the photo that was so well known, it made even the Don pull back. they knew this was serious business.

“you sure you want this one?”

i’m sure, Don. you got it or not?

“oh, i got it. but it’ll cost ya.”

i wasn’t about to have my victory snatched away by this selfish old fool. the Don lookin’ for a deal was never a good sign, but i was desperate.

what do you want?

“oh, nothin’ much, doll. just do me a favor sometime down the line. then we’ll call it even. capisce?”

bein’ in debt to the Don was not something i wanted. whatever they asked me to do, i knew it’d be bad. but either way i needed this post. i needed to solve the case. so i made what would possibly be the worst mistake of my life…

it’s a deal.

“glad we could reach an agreement, Miss. i believe this is what you’re lookin’ for?”

they pulled out their black leather briefcase, their name engraved on it in multicolored letters. it would seem tacky on anyone else. but the Don had a style to them that made it work. poppin’ it open, they handed me the file i was lookin’ for. just sittin’ there at the top, like they knew i was here for it. i grabbed it, thanked the Don, and got up to leave. that’s when they grabbed my sleeve.

“Miss Detective. don’t forget about our arrangement.”

i pulled away, scoffed, and went on my way. whatever they wanted me to do, i’m sure it wasn’t great. either way, the job was done. and i finally had what i wanted. i went back to my dingy office, alone, and filed the post away. the rain still poundin’ down against the window.

Post Case: Closed