#infinite recall

[kerizaret]

They need to do this more I think

[athenasiuscorp]

all old misc necrontyr shit

[raurquiz]

#HappyBirthday @johnthecho #johncho #actor #sulu #startrek #intodarkness #StarTrekBeyond #betterlucktomorrow #americanwedding #haroldandkumar #west32nd #nickandnorahsinfiniteplaylist #TotalRecall #columbus #Gemini #thegrudge #ghosted #TheGraduates #offcentre #AmericanDad #flashforward #SleepyHollow #TheExorcist #TheTwilightZone #CowboyBebop #thesympathizer #startrek57 @startrek @startrekonpplus @streammaxla

[haywardfreud]

like you, the krell forgot one deadly danger: their own subconscious hate and lust for destruction

WALTER PIDGEON as DR. MORBIUS in FORBIDDEN PLANET (dir. FRED M. WILCOX, 1956)

[constantvariations]

Just saw a post that was like "couples in rwby become canon when they hold hands as the scene's emotional focal point" and I'm just ???

Like I'd be far more lenient on this point if there was no kissing at all. Capcom games, as far as I'm aware, have zero kisses across the board even among canon couples. The closest I've seen is the ending of Devil May Cry 4 when Nero and Kyrie lean into each other before getting interrupted by demons. It's basically a running gag at this point

Not to mention the lead up and chemistry between characters are miles ahead of anything rwby attempts. You expect me to be impressed by lackluster, flaccid "canonizing" moments after witnessing Jake "Fuck you, I only care about money" Muller stare at Sherry like she hung the stars and saying in the most worshipful tone "You saved me... Thank you" as they ride a cart out of an exploding factory? And then to emphasize how much Sherry impacted him, Jake changes his asking price from $50 million per pint of his unique antibodied blood to a motorcycle and $50 for gas

Meanwhile, I didn't even realize that Nora still had feelings for Ren until V6 with the "Give me back my man" line, and Ren never showed any indication of being into Nora at all which is why the V7 conversation and kiss came out of the blue. Nor did Jaune ever show any romantic intent towards Pyrrha. These romances start and end at their kisses

[recallback-art]

More silly comics! Daze has a bad habit of eating cursed objects, since he has a pocket dimension in his gut where he can store them safely. It works but it's always upsetting every time.

[dragonballevolution]

IVE FINALLY FINISHED MY COLLECTION OF THIS DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION FIGURE LINE......!!!!! ALL SEVEN OF THEM... AND i got them with accompanying oozaru parts so i have the full oozaru fig too :3

[paeinovis]

Begging the internet to return to using "bestie" in place of "girls/girlies/boys/lads/etc" it was the perfect gender neutral catchall term good Christ. Why are we moving Away from that are you my bestie or aren't you

[sweetmage]

It's a blessing and a curse that I've become so Dragon Age obsessed that every other game I play becomes about Dragon Age.

Recently I've been playing Baldurs Gate 3 early access and within less than 48 hours I had already found a way to transplant my player character into the DA😆

Sometimes I regret not making this blog a general blog for similar games, but then I remember I can still show off my little OCs anyway because it's so easy to swap their worlds :)

I'm always making new Dragon Age OCs when I'm not even making Dragon Age OCs, I'm always playing Dragon Age even when I'm not.

[frenchtwistresistance]

Audience booing her (kinda lame, non-matching, nevertheless reasonable) answer (to the question, “At the terrible Death Valley restaurant they only serve _____ sandwiches” [contestant said sand]).

Brett: I’m in menopause!

Audience dying laughing.

Betty White: I haven’t seen it yet, but I’ve heard you’re wonderful.

Audience dying laughing again.

Brett: What did you say, Elizabeth?

Gene paraphrases what Betty said.

Brett: Well, hers is so far behind her that she doesn’t remember.

Audience continues dying laughing.

[teaboot]

Concept: Vampire character that represents strengthening ties to humanity and the natural world instead of dividing them

Vampire gets HEAVILY invested in eco conservation because they *can't* just shrug it off as the next generation's problems

A vampire that goes around eating oil tycoons and clear-cut logging CEOs and climate-denying politicians because their childhood village is a dirt pit now and the animals they saw growing up have become endangered

Immortal guys who anonymously donate huge sums of cash to wildlife preserves that oversee forests they used to hunt in

Fellow who, instead of succumbing to the boredom and waste of infinite time, has become feverishly obsessed with making sure this one specific species of snail will still be around in another hundred years

5000 year old woodsman who can still mimic the calls of extinct birds, who still remembers the mating calls of mammoths and wooly rhinos and wild horses

Ancient vampire who can still vaguely recall a cave somewhere with her whole family's hand prints in it, and not sure of it's precise location, keeps the whole area void of human activity so it doesn't become a tourist attraction

Vampire archeologist who digs up their old friend's remains and has the figure out how to prove, with evidence, how they know exactly who they were and what they looked like

Immortal anthropologist who reconstructs a face from a skull only to realize that they'd met them before a long, long time ago

[alexei-home-fromthewar-at-last]

Thinking about the time I tried to explain my genderfluidity to a therapist as someone who fluctuates between female and different nonbinary genders, never male. We had talked about my nonbinary sibling earlier in the session as she was confused about they/them pronouns and said she had heard of that before and understood. And then I explained about where my nonbinary genders were personally on the spectrum between male and female and such and got the end of my 5+ minute explanation to get:

“…but we only have two genders?”

[foone]

Sometimes playing modded Minecraft with ADHD is exactly like being a forgetful wizard.

In both cases, you risk coming across a machine you must have built, but don't recall making.

And you open it up to see what it's doing, to try and solve this mystery... Only to find it makes infinite mushrooms.

And you still have no idea why you made this.

[pukicho]

What's the weirdest dream/nightmare you've had?

Pukicho story time???

This happened in 2004, I lived in Ireland. I had one very particular dream that I still often think about to this day:

It started in an unusual flat, somewhere up high. It was modern for the time, it felt decidedly Y2K. Every piece of furniture, the walls, the lamps, they were all bright pink. It was so trendy that it almost felt like a parody of itself, but I was a kid, and my mind wasn't clever enough for the act of parody. I would've simply forgotten this flat ever existed if the latter-half of the dream didn't leave such a permanent mark on my memory - now I can recall every last detail.

I asked a stranger to use the restroom. The toilet was downstairs, so I opened up the door to a utility stairwell and began heading down, alone.

I could look through the center of the staircase column, it was pitch-black and there was no visible bottom. I remember going down the staircase for hours, literal hours - A dark, oppressive hum from pipes and vents blinded my ears and shook the inside of my stomach with its volume. I remember thinking how long the dream felt in this moment, I recall getting consciously impatient, but I kept going. My eyes couldn't adjust to the nearly invisible-darkness surrounding me so I put my hand against the walls and handrail for guidance and shuffled downward like a blind man without his walking-stick.

Finally, only a moment before the tension would have juddered me awake, I found the door to the bathroom. I opened it up; to my relief there was light. The room was rectangular, on one end was a boxed-shaped shower with fogged glass, on the other end, a toilet. The floor and wall were decorated by the same beige tile - it all looked hastily plastered. I sat down to do my business. At this moment, the ballooning anxiety I had felt outside had dissipated almost entirely. I sat in silence - I remember acknowledging the sheer contrast in volume between the AC-hum in the bathroom to the oppressive roar from the stairwell.

It was good to be sitting there. I remember feeling as though the dream had slowly turned into a nightmare - but consciously, everything felt right again. Nothing happened for a long time. It grew so boring and tame that my mind stopped focusing on the dream entirely, and I began fading into memoryless sleep. And then the lights went out.

At this point, sitting in a darkness even blacker than the one I had just emerged from, not even a hum could be heard. The only noise I could hear, and just barely, was my own brain-matter hitting against the sides of my ears, bellowing a deep subharmonic hum from within my own skull. Suddenly, every semblance of safety was ripped from my chest, and I sat there, feeling in greater danger than I ever had before. I felt a pressure so omniscient that it choked me -- but nothing came, nothing happened. I waited for minutes - minutes where each second could be counted down in scrutinizing specificity, but nothing happened.

Suddenly, and with no presumption, I felt coarse electricity pumping through my chest. I wrangled with myself in my own bed, feeling what felt like infinite pain pass through me. I could feel myself yelling from within the dream through the vibration of my lungs. A cacophonous buzzing bled into my ears as thousands of people screamed from within my skull. The cries of a falling choir ran-through their screams, like angels falling from heaven.

At the very same moment, a body appeared in the shower. It glowed yellow, so bright and irradiated I could hardly look directly at it. It caressed itself, clawing into its body like it was reeling from immeasurable pain. It moved unnaturally, squirming and spasming as if fast-forwarded. The glass blurred its details, but it did nothing to mask its energy. It was as if it held the sun inside of its own stomach. I felt as though an intruder entered my own mind and I had no power to stop it. Just being near it was enough to kill me, and I was already dying.

The wall of sound lasted not even one full-second - and then - a piercing zap shot me up from my bed, and that was it. I can't remember anything past that point, but I assume I went back to bed shortly thereafter, forgetting what had just happened, if only for that one night. I must have had a vapid dream, worthless and memoryless, unknowing that I had just lived a dream so dreadful that it'd stick to my psyche like tar for the rest of my life.

No other dream has ever felt that way since. It was as if a second-soul decided to visit me, a soul stronger and more omnipotent than mine. Surely a dream is just a dream, regardless of the feeling it gives you, but now I go to bed every night, wishing I'll be the only soul residing within its story.

End!!

[princessbrunette]

could you do stepbro!rafe with a breeding kink?

LOCKED IN ♡

cw: stepcest, smut, breeding, pregnancy mention, rafe calls you ‘little sis’ once.

It was totally, utterly unfair.

You were picky, picky when it came to food— separating the dry from the wet on your plate with your fork, picky with your clothes — needing the pinks to be the perfect cool tone. Picky with the way you organised your bed, needing the decorative cushions and copious amounts of stuffed animals to be organised in a specific manner in order to feel satisfied. Most importantly, you were picky with your men. It took a lot for you to feel a spark, most of the men you encountered just not even breaching your impossibly high standards.

So why, oh why — did you have to pick your step-brother?

He wasn’t even perfect, not by a long mile. He was aggressive, rude, stuck up, all things you pride yourself on not being. He had a reputation of causing problems, fighting pogues, engaging in scream-offs with his father. But, Rafe Cameron was gorgeous. An innocent smile despite it all, broad, tall and built, grab-able hair.

You hadn’t even realised you’d had a handful of it between your tense fingers until he groaned against your mouth, cock resting against your sodden cunt, sliding against your folds with each buck of his hips. The two of you had snuck upstairs during the infamous Midsummers party, white sundress bunched up around your waist, thin wiry flowercrown fallen, laying beside a teddy bear wearing a sweater at the head of your bed.

He’d been making eyes at you all night, much to your dismay after you’d told him to pinky promise you that he’d try and refrain from engaging in any stepcestual shenanigans at such a family affair. You recall the way he sighed when you’d asked, stepping up to you as if to impose his height on you, plastering a purposely fake smile on his face, eyes crinkling at the corners and holding up the requested finger.

“Pinky swear.” He rasps in that low, intimate tone. Everything was a seduction technique with him, god — whatever, it was working. You hooked your finger happily enough around his anyway probably sporting a big goofy smile. Any excuse to touch him you’d take.

He grinds his shaft against your heat as he practically has you pinned to your bed, legs helpless around his waist. You shudder and whine when his tip catches your clit. “Do pinky promises mean nothing to you?” You shiver, infinitely hypocritical and careless as you buck your hips for more. He chuckles at this, leaning back so he can line himself up with your entrance.

“Doesn’t look like you’re complaining.” He retorts, giving your hip a comforting squeeze before sliding himself in. You go to let out a moan but he warns you with his fingers softly brushing your lips. “Uh-uh.” He whispers. He’s right, can’t get caught.

Soon enough you have tears pooling at the corners of your eyes from your restraint, eyes all big and desperate as he works his rhythm against you, hips grinding and slamming until you’re seeing stars. He gets so concentrated, like he’s working out whilst he fucks you, his mouth hung a little open, eyes focused on your body and what he’s doing. Forget the short pathetic whimpers leaving you, with each thrust the bed creaks loud and fast in an unmistakable rhythm that one who passed your room could only know exactly what’s going down.

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming, hard. You’re not sure what it is, aside from him whispering “Good girl, keep taking it.” In your ear with his lips brushing your jawline. You’d decided the shape of his cock must be designed perfectly for your insides, and hits the perfect spot— because it’s not like he did that much to get you to cum that hard.

You get all silly and brain dead whenever you cum, and this time it was awful. It must have been the summer heat getting to your head or the glass of wine you’d downed when you’d seen the way Rafe was openly ogling you at a family event, because you lock your feet around his back, not letting him leave you. You’d been clenching so hard when you came that he’d had to take a breather, his weight falling on top of you a bit more as he groaned something along the lines of “Shit, g’nna make me cum too.” into your temple. Completely fuck drunk, you whine out—

“Want it inside please. Cum inside.” Desperate and pleadingly, arms wrapped around his neck and feet still locked to keep him inside you. He pauses for a moment, so that he doesn’t blow his load there and then before pulling back. He’s stronger than you by a long shot, so he’s got your arms off him in no time, pinning you so hard to the bed, putting his weight on you to the point you think you might fall through it. He looks angry at first, and you think maybe you’ve messed up, staring up at him through hazy, tearful doe eyes. His expression twists to something more amused, a malicious smile twitching at his lips as he stares at you almost pityingly. Then he starts to slowly grind inside.

“Thats real sick, baby. You know that right? Wanting me t’cum inside you?” He huffs out a snicker, shaking his head as he adjusts his grip on your hips. “I mean can you imagine?” He presses inside, deep as he can go, his tip kissing your cervix with force and just staying there, throbbing against it. You whine, too sensitive, too much. “Knocking up my sweet little sis? The look on everyone’s face when they realise that big bad scary Rafe has been ploughing this pretty little pussy behind closed doors?” He starts moving again, pushing your knees up to your chest once he’d broken free from your locked in position. “How would it look if you showed up to the next family function with a swollen tummy, baby?” He babies you, talking to you like you’re stupid and rubbing a big hand over your stomach soothingly. You flutter around him, worsening things. “Better yet, leaving this room and going back to the party with my cum all in your panties.” He squints one eye in fake disgust before shaking his head in fake disapproval, lips pouted as he tuts three times. “Gonna get me in trouble, beautiful.”

He presses his body to yours again, thrusts speeding up and the sound of the creaking bed smacking the wall returns, as to your sensitive mewls. “But if that’s really what you want...” He finishes sinisterly, holding you down when you squirm and fucking you until he’s groaning, pumping his load inside.

[novelistwriter]

Phantom Puppet

DP x DC Prompt

Danny can't remember how long the GIW had him, days? Weeks? Months? Years? He lost track of the time when they injected him with a special Blood Blossom formula they made, it keeps him awake, but dulls almost everything for him, his eyes remain Void of any life, but he tries to hold on, hold on to hope that someone he knows will save him.

He hears the Agents and Scientists around him speak of something called the "Puppetmaster", no doubt something to be used on him.

He's got ecto infused strings sewn into his body, one for each limb, two for his mouth, and two for his torso, he's become their weapon, a weapon with no strength to resist, a weapon with no voice to protest, a weapon that is losing hope. The "Puppetmaster" remains invisible to those that haven't been touched by death, same for the strings sewn into his body.

His first target? Vlad. He is sent to Hunt Plasmius when the Ghost is sighted. The battle between them is fierce to those around to see it, but it ends with Plasmius beaten and Ended. His next target? All of Amity. Danny isn't aware for most of it, but he can recall bits and pieces (not like he wants to remember what his body was forced to do).

The GIW have a next target for their "Puppet" the Justice League, they know that the Justice League will take the side of the Ghosts, and they want to snuff them out before the laws allowing them to do what they want with Ghosts is noticed.

The GIW send their "Puppet" to attack League members when they are sure they're alone, but their "Puppet" is unable to finish off the League members because each time one is close to Death, they are aided by other League members to escape (The GIW don't know about the Zeta Tubes).

The League is scrambling to find a way to subdue the Meta Boy that's been attacking them, Justice League Dark is unavailable because they are handling something with a dimension known as the "Infinite Realms" and their missing King. It isn't until some of the League members who have died before report of their experience with the Meta Boy, their reports reveal that the Boy is not in control of his actions, strings are sewn into his body, while a machine above him controls the strings and forces him to attack them with electric shocks. Now, the League is set to free the Meta Boy from his captors. They just need to apprehend one of the White Suited people near the Boy and use the Lasso of Truth on the person they apprehend.