#mediocre rusty writing

[ashedrose]

🤭

[demonstars]

i love your writing so much :] i hope you know how much your work touches peoples' hearts

OUGDHSGDHSHD THIS IS SO SWEET ☹️☹️🌠🌠

[lryghe]

MXTX thoughts; conventions

The long awaited (not) analysis of MXTX conventions is here! I’ve literally been meaning to talk about this for months but it got sidelined in favour of vicious arguing on PDB about MBTI. Anyways! Obviously this post will contain spoilers, and something I wanted to touch on was 3rd person limited in MXTX, but I already have a post on that here, so feel free to check that out for a better explanation of it. Beware of mediocre analysis ahead, I’m a little rusty (also shoutout to the person who liked some of my posts this morning, you reminded me to actually write something!).

THE AGENDA since this post is long:

Non-linear storylines

Dying and resurrection

Colour symbolism

Character tropes

NON-LINEAR STORYLINES

An interesting thing that follows MXTX’s more thought out works, is the non-linear plotlines she follows in them. This itself is a really good convention of writing in general, especially if it’s done well, and I can safely say that MXTX did it astoundingly well in TGCF. The clear cuts between time periods in relation to each book is an incredible feat, and is something that easily trumps MXTX's other examples of non-linear storylines. Through the use of the jumping back and forth in time, specifically in TGCF, creates an excellent cause and effect, something that is definitely central to the novel. Everything done has an effect, whether that be on the continuation of the plot, or even as a characterisation point, so the non-linear narrative cements that sense of foreboding hanging over everything. A simple sentence said when Xie Lian 17 somehow amounts to a complete upheaval of the heavens 800 years later, unveiling a conspiracy well over 2000 years old. A friendship group dissolving due to difficult circumstances results in a really horrific friendship confession later in the novel. Shi Wudu trying to save his sibling ends his own demise, the crippling of said sibling, and a vengeful ghost with nothing to do anymore. This nonlinear storyline is definitely used in MDZS as well, but I found it a bit more complex, and actually, now that I think about it, is a really good reflection of Wei Wuxian in general. The thing with MXTX, is that all her novels are in 3rd person limited, so they follow our protagonist in 3rd person, but it’s tinged with their own personal views and biases that limit the omniscience of 3rd person. And with MDZS it would be a fair assessment to say that the unordered mess of time leaps in the novel are an excellent indication of Wei Wuxian’s bias leaking through the 3rd person. The incessant jumping is difficult to follow in places (don’t say otherwise), but it’s actually a genius idea because it’s an accurate assessment of the thought process that Wei Wuxian probably follows anyway. I wouldn’t say that this was definitely on purpose however, as MDZS was written before TGCF, so it could just be MXTX growing alongside her writing, but hey, maybe it is a stroke of complete and beautiful genius! Don’t bother mentioning SVSSS, it’s definitely an interesting novel, but it’s not non-linear, at least not as wholly as MDZS and TGCF are. The most you’ll get in SVSSS is like a two line flashback, plus the extra’s, but I think that’s a reflection of when MXTX wrote it.

DYING AND RESURRECTION

Moving on from serious conventions, MXTX’s trope with one of the main characters dying and then coming back later is a really funny kind of convention, because it’s not funny in the moment obviously, but the fact that it’s done at least once per novel is hilarious. Wei Wuxian’s initial resurrection after 13 years of being dead, Shen Qingqiu’s return in his plant body 5 years later, and then his return back to his ‘original’ body, and Hua Cheng’s little death defying stunt at the end of the novel. Then there’s the use of cliffs and such, like Binghe’s fall into the Abyss, Hua Cheng’s fall off that wall (forgive me its been like 3 years since I read TGCF), and if we’re being inclusive, then there’s always Wei Wuxian’s death in The Untamed. Maybe there’s a hidden meaning in there somewhere, but it’s fine to look at it from a surface level, which amounts to ‘MXTX got bored and needed some drama’. A perfectly reasonable deduction. 

COLOUR SYMBOLISM

Another thing I wanted to touch on was the colour symbolism that MXTX uses because I think it’s pretty cool, AND it has the added benefits of adding symbolism and contrast to each novel's main character and their love interest. It’s mentioned in the novel’s obviously, but it really shines in fan content and fanarts. I like the symbolism of Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu’s robes both being green before the time-skip, because Luo Binghe was a disciple at the time and a little white lotus, so the green was used to directly align him with Shen Qingqiu. After the timeskip he’s obviously got his big boy pants on and swapped to a stunning black and red ensemble, fitting of the protagonist, and that itself contrasts Shen Qingqiu’s majestic and lofty green robes, because Binghe means business with this fit. A fun thought is how green and red fit together on the colour spectrum, because they don’t, they’re contrasting colours which is some real obvious symbolism. Do I really need to spell out Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian? I feel like this one is rudimentary. White equals noble and virtuous, pure and holy, and black is evil, demonic, cruel, and scary. Simple! And Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s red and white are a very cute mixture, because although it gives them a Bingqiu style christmas tree vibe, it’s interesting in comparison to the previous two love interest and main character dynamics, considering red and white are a lot more complimentary than black and white or red and green. And it’s a testament to how similar Hualian are with their complimentary robes, how like-minded they are throughout the novel, especially considering their predecessors. Or maybe I’m overthinking it, who knows?

CHARACTER TROPES

In regards to tropes of MXTX, I think her character tropes are incredible and have the addition of being really funny. She’s consistent enough with her conventions that clear links can be drawn with her side characters across all 3 novels. To begin with, there’s Mr Angry. I think you can guess who that is, but it's Jiang Cheng, Liu Qingge, and Mu Qing. All have a really close relationship with their related main character, all are angry or harsh where they probably didn't need to be, and all three are good fighters. Then there’s the guy who’s always smiling, like Yue Qingyuan or Lan Xichen. Complacency is a key part of their characters, and excuses aside, it’s interesting how it played out. You could argue for Jun Wu to be a part of this circle, but I’ll keep that to myself. Finally, there’s the fodder characters, only useful to further the plot in a miniscule way. Gongyi Xiao (MAY HE REST WELL), Xiao Xingchen, and once again, I don’t have a very good TGCF equivalent. Gongyi Xiao dies after the events of the water prison, and Xiao Xingchen was really just there to highlight how fucked up Xue Yang was. Rest in peace our beloved fodder, especially Gongyi Xiao, MXTX should have treated you better…

I think I’ve typed myself out honestly. Kudos to whoever reached the end of this post, I haven’t written this much since my Team 7 analysis when I got back into my Naruto phase briefly.

Word count: 1271

Reading time: 4 ½ mins

[iboatedhere]

Thank you @kiwiana-writes @lemonlyman-dotcom & @orchidscript ❤️

—

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” Alex says, “it just seems like the thing to say.”

Henry laughs softly and Alex puts the pot down on the stove before touching his shoulder. “I’m sorry that your mom is hurting. I’m sorry that you’re hurting.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You have a way about you, I guess. Even when you're enjoying yourself there’s still something there.”

“I had no idea you were paying such close attention.”

“It’s kind of hard not to.”

Henry smiles, for once without an undercurrent of melancholy, and Alex clears his throat.

“Would you like to enjoy a cheap glass of wine and a mediocre view of the city with your dinner?”

“I very much would.”

Henry doesn’t help Alex make dinner, mainly because there’s nothing more to it than boiling water and reheating sauce, but also because he insists that he can’t.

“I tried once,” Henry tells him, “and that was enough to scare me off for good.”

“You just need more practice.”

“The fire alarms would disagree.”

With a plate in each hand, and Henry holding the bottle of wine and the glasses, they make their way up the narrow stairway to the roof.

“There’s a key around my neck,” Alex says once they get to the rusty door that leads outside. “You gotta unlock the door for me.”

Henry tucks the bottle under his arm to free up a hand then gives a significant look at the Keep Out sign on the door, written in English and then again in Italian.

“That’s not for me, that’s for losers who don’t have a key.”

“I don’t want to know what you did to get one,” Henry says as he lifts the chain over Alex’s head while Alex smirks.

The door sticks, so Henry has to put his weight into it, grunting softly as it pops open. Alex tries not to find it sexy.

Like the rest of the building, the roof isn’t that impressive. A pair of folding chairs and a card table Alex found beside a dumpster. But the night is warm and clear and Alex is willing to bet that Henry has never done anything like this before. Check it off the list.

—

Tagging: @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @cha-melodius anyone else who hasn’t done it, I know I’m late.

[bluemindscapes]

aaaaand how about some 😵 Unexplained fainting for Leon - 🔪

Here you go @leonisdumbasallhell, sorry it took me so long but I hope you still like my drabbles and thank you for sending the prompts! Never did something like this before and I really had a blast writing something shorter for once.

(Also a little content warning beforehand, so if anyone doesn't want to get spoilered just skip the brackets - but this drabble kinda deals with eating disorders/ weight loss, so if anyone's sensitive to that subject I'd recommend you skip the fic.)

Resident Evil Drabble Unexplained Fainting

Leon had licked his lips fifteen times in the past ten minutes and yet Chris still thought chapstick would do him better because they looked as dried out as they had ten minutes ago. Not that Chris was supposed to have any elaborate thoughts on Leon’s lips in the first place, not when they were both adjusting their posture for another round of hand to hand practice.

“Again.” He waved Leon forward, hands held in front of his face, ready to duck.

He was fast and agile, depending on good technique more than brute strength, which was exactly why Chris was struggling as hard as he did. It wasn’t like the BSAA didn’t train them on martial arts, it just didn’t happen to be Chris’ main focus and he had to admit that he'd gotten rusty over the years. 

But that was why he'd convinced Leon to sparr with him in the first place, so he wouldn’t get his ass handed to him by someone who was more eager to pull the trigger on him, than Leon had been in China. The other had agreed reluctantly, obviously tired out by whatever mission the DSO had thrown him into and Chris was loath to occupy more of his free time too. Though secretly he hoped, this way, he could eventually convince him to ditch his shit employer.

All his musing of what may be someday, had Chris distracted enough for Leon to land a mean punch to the ribs. It was merely a jab, and yet it had Chris curled over and vulnerable enough for Leon to flip him on his back with a few practiced movements, kneeling above him and pinning him to the gym mat.

“Get your head in the game, or I’ll stop pulling my punches.” Leon laughed like he wasn’t panting with exhaustion.

To top it all off, the bastard had the audacity to flick his hair to the side, as if he barely felt the sweat dripping from his chin and darkening the expanding stain on his shirt which, to be fair, didn’t help to not keep Chris blessedly distracted.

“Don’t flatter yourself, if I wanted to you’d have tapped out an hour ago.” Chris teased, as Leon swung one leg back over his knees to push himself to standing.

Chris sat up as well, watching Leon rake one hand through his blonde hair, exposing the dark roots that were growing back in.

“If I don’t do it, no one will.” 

He caught the spark in Leon’s eyes as he said it, a playful smile flashing on his face before it was gone again. Then he offered his hand for Chris to take, drawing him up in one swift motion. The feeling of Leon’s cold fingertips in his burning hot palm, made Chris stop for a second, glancing down at their joint hands in confusion.

“Damn, you’re cold.” He exclaimed with surprise. 

The hand was gone from his grip in an instant, shoved inside the pocket of the sweatpants Leon was wearing, like he was self-conscious about it. 

“Guess it takes more than your mediocre hand to hand to get me all hot and bothered.” He shrugged, casually ignoring the rush of blood muddying Chris’ face into an unhealthy shade of red, before turning his back on him and strolling over to the bench, where their water bottles stood. 

Chris followed suit, shaking his head at the lunatic idea that Leon could be into him, instead of just too quick-witted for his own good. Chris took a swig of his water, not feeling particularly thirsty yet. Contrary to Leon’s claims, the other at least seemed like he was exhausted, Chris himself had called for a break once over the course of the afternoon they spent in the BSAA gym, while Leon had interrupted their sparring every half an hour, just to compulsively sip at his water bottle and pace over the linoleum floor, rolling his wrists back and forth. If Chris didn’t know better, he’d have said, Leon was nervous, the whole behaviour feeling just slightly enough out of character to peak Chris' instincts.

Chris screwed the cap back on, setting the bottle next to him on the bench, watching Leon pace, like he couldn’t stand to be still. His clothes hung loosely on him, the arms of the shirt swaying with the motion of walking and Chris wondered when Leon had become so thin. Even his face seemed sharper than before, his cheeks hollowed out and dark shadows beneath his eyes.

“Should we call it for today? I think I’ve had enough humiliation for now.” Chris grinned, getting up himself and stretching his arms above his head. 

Leon turned his head towards him, like he hadn’t quite understood what he’d said, his fingers fiddling with his own water bottle, as if he hadn't decided yet, if he was still thirsty. 

“Are you sure? We’ve only been here for a few hours.” 

The low neckline of his shirt exposed his collarbone, standing out like the edge of a knife and a pang of worry and guilt shot through Chris’ abdomen. When had he last seen Leon eat? Chris struggled to remember, last time the other had asked him to join him for dinner, Chris had had to decline. 

“It’s fine, I think I’ll need some time to practice anyway.” He smiled, rapping his knuckles against Leon’s shoulder, as he passed him. The other’s hand automatically wandered to the spot he had touched, skimming his fingers over it – like it ached – before dropping it back to his hip. Leon licked his lips for the sixteenth time.

“Aren’t you starving? It feels like my stomach is eating itself.” Chris joked, when Leon didn’t answer, following him on silent feet, his steps ever light where Chris’ were heavy. 

“I could eat something, do you want to have dinner together?” His words sounded measured, as if Leon had to hold back from coming off as too eager.

In the meantime they had reached the locker rooms, where they’d left their street clothes. Chris was already peeling the tight shirt off his sticky skin, when he searched for a towel to bring into the shower with him. 

“If you have the time for it. I owe you dinner anyway.” Chris answered nonchalantly, while he dug out the shower gel from the bottom of his duffle bag.

“Yeah, sure.” Leon breathed out, before taking another sip from his bottle. 

Chris noted how his hand shook a little, making the water inside quiver and bubble. He bit his lip guiltily, wondering if he had gone too hard on Leon, or if he missed some cue that he’d had enough for the day. He knew how proud and stubborn he could be about things like that and usually Chris kept an eye out exactly because of Leon’s tendency to overexert himself, but this time he seemed to have tripped up. 

“Don’t you want to shower?” 

Chris glanced at the sportswear still on him, wet and probably uncomfortable, now that they were cooling off. Leon shrunk under his gaze, like he’d rather be invisible, looking to the side past where Chris stood with his bare chest and towel slung around his shoulders.

“I’ll shower when I’m home.” He mumbled.

“Do you hate our showers this much, or is the great Leon Kennedy suddenly growing shy?” Chris quipped, already pulling his socks off and resigning himself to quickly wash himself down while Leon waited. He didn’t know how the DSO handled things, but after his time in the air force and later at the BSAA, Chris had been quick to lose his inhibitions, when it came to communal showers. No use holding on to a false sense of shame, when everyone in there was as desperate to just get clean as he was.

“I’m not shy, I just-” Chris could see the gears in his head turning, brows pinched tight, while he tried to come up with a suitable excuse, before he decided to put him out of his misery.

“I was joking, give me five minutes and we can go get dinner.” 

Chris turned back to his duffle, throwing his socks inside. Next to him Leon was still shuffling around, arms crossed and head downcast. For all his quips and flirts, he’d fallen silent fast this time. He looked back up to him, worry simmering in his gut, something didn’t feel right but Chris couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Do you want to get changed, or…?” He trailed off, glancing between the unopened bag on the bench next to his own and Leon, who was very pointedly not looking at him. 

His clothes sagged on him, hanging from his hips and shoulders and obscuring the figure beneath. Chris didn’t remember if Leon had always worn casual clothes like this, or if it was a new quirk of his. They did look strange on him either way, too big in all the wrong places and yet too short at the ankles.

“I’m on it, go shower already.” He waved him off. 

Bending down to undo the zipper, Leon’s hands shook, though Chris didn’t think Leon would appreciate if he mentioned it. So he turned to sort through his spare clothing instead. The moment he had averted his eyes, Leon hiccuped like he’d been startled by something, one hand snapping forward to grip the bench’s backrest. 

Chris examined him for a second, as Leon straightened himself back up, all colour draining from his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked, laying one hand on Leon’s shoulder.

There was still muscle broadening his shoulders. taut and strong but beneath that, Chris felt nothing but skin and bone. It sent a wave of shock through his system, that he fought not to let show, as Leon swayed on the spot.

“Leon, you don’t look so good.” He exclaimed, alarmed by the sight of his glazed over eyes.

His inhale shuddered on the way in, his tongue darting out to wet his lips again. Then, before Chris could say anything else, Leon’s icy fingers brushed his biceps, slipping on his bare skin, as his eyes rolled upwards and he crumpled on the spot. 

Chris stepped forward, catching Leon beneath his arms and easing him downwards, the other boneless in his arms. Chris had expected the heavy weight of someone packed with muscle and used to fighting things thrice their size. He had expected to hold the man who’d pointed a gun at his face in China, a solid force that rivaled his own. But instead Leon was nearly lightweight, the sharp edges of his bones digging into Chris, as he put him down gently.

This was not normal, not by a long shot.

Chris held two fingers against his pulse point, feeling for the fluttering heartbeat at his neck and wondered how all of this had gone unnoticed. Whether it was by accident, or on purpose aside, he would’ve thought the DSO did regular health screenings to avoid stuff like this happening, especially on the job. Leon was lucky they’d just been sparring and he wasn’t being chased down by the latest mutant freak.

Chris pulled his duffle from the bench to place Leon’s feet on it, before pulling his shirt back on, foregoing his showering plans in favour of finding out what was wrong with Leon. He watched his breathing closely, noting how his ribcage stood out, while his stomach curved inward. This was malnourishment at best and starvation at worst, Chris couldn’t believe it, how did nobody notice?! How did he not pick up on it? The ever persistent question remained, what had happened? It couldn’t be intentional, right?!

In the end, Leon wasn’t out for too long, his eyelids fluttering, before he squinted against the artificial lights from above. Leon trembled slightly, the chill of the floor soaking into his bones, as he tried to orient himself. 

Chris was a shadow in the corner of his eye, black spots still flooding his vision while he tried to blink them away, though Chris' voice was clear in his droning ears. 

“Do you want to sit up?”

The question was hesitant, Chris scared to make Leon faint again, though he also couldn’t stand how uncomfortable the other looked, goosebumps down his arms and blinking lazily.

Leon nodded mutely, his nails scratching on the tiles, while he tried to get them beneath him to push himself up. Chris touched him gently, guiding his back to lean against the nearest wall. His heart hammered in his chest, even though Leon being conscious should’ve eased his anxiety. But how could he know what to do now, how to get Leon talking without him shutting down completely.

“How are you feeling?” It was a start, maybe if Leon could be honest, he could ask more daring questions later. 

“Dizzy-” 

He licked his lips again and Chris took it as a sign to hand him some of his water, Leon’s own bottle already empty. They didn’t exchange any more words for a while, just sitting on the floor in silence. 

Then:”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Chris wasn’t sure if Leon ran out of thought or breath first, regardless he shook his head, dismissing the apology.

“Don’t worry about it.” He paused, warily. “But Leon, when did you last eat?”

“Just this morning.”

Lie. His intuition replied, without Chris even having to track the obvious tells Leon exhibited whenever he came up with an excuse on the spot. His eyes had flitted to Chris’ left, while he had pushed the black earring in his lobe back and forth, it’d been a nervous habit of his, ever since they’d met, though it almost never saw the light of day. Except for when Leon was flying by the seat of his pants, trapped in a social situation he didn’t want to be in.

“I must be coming down with something, it’d probably be better if I went back to my hotel.” Leon spoke timidly, which did not agree with Chris at all.

He’d rather have him lie and bark at him, instead of ducking his head like this, using avoidance to cope. When Leon began pulling himself up at the bench to his right, Chris tenderly pushed him back down, keeping his palm placed on his shoulder before he began speaking again. 

“I really don’t care if I catch the flu from you, let’s just skip the showers and get some food first.” 

Leon’s eyes swam with uncertainty, like he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing, or maybe like he didn’t know if he wanted what Chris was proposing. Either way, Chris wasn’t about to send him off alone like this. 

When Leon proceeded to stare at him with tired blue eyes, he decided to break the tension and get up first, before offering his hand for Leon to take. He pulled him up slowly, holding on to him, even after he was standing again, waiting for another dizzy spell to send Leon stumbling.

“I’m fine Chris, you know I always bounce right back.” Leon had the audacity to smile at him when he said it, brushing aside his arms like they hadn’t kept him from crashing right into the floor less than five minutes ago. 

“I know.”

That was what worried him so much on top of everything else. What would it take for Leon to pull the brakes? And how bad did it have to get for the people around him to stop pushing him to his limits? Chris feared rock bottom for Leon would always end at six feet deep, if no one kept him from digging.

But first food. He could still turn this around, if only he could get him to eat.

“Let’s get going, I know a place you’d like.”

[stardust-kitten]

Would you say you a good gamer™? What's something you wish you could make? Opinion on olives?

i’m a VERY mediocre gamer™️ but i prefer it that way!!! i wish i could make lots and lots of art but i’m focusing really hard on my writing skills and trying to learn a skill i’m very rusty at is way too time consuming ;-; olives are yuck!!!!! but i’m also weirdly picky so ….

[episodeoftv]

Round 1 of 6, Group 2 of 4

propaganda is under the cut (424 words) - may contain spoilers

summaries (pulled from imdb or wikis)

propaganda

Doctor Who - 12.10 The Timeless Children

In the epic and emotional season finale, the Cybermen are on the march. As the last remaining humans are ruthlessly hunted down, Graham, Ryan and Yaz face a terrifying fight to survive. Civilisations fall. Others rise anew. Lies are exposed, truths are revealed, battles are fought, and for the Doctor - trapped and alone - nothing will ever be the same again.

this finale is shit!! absolute ass! nothing happens in it for it to justify having such a cool name. the master captures the doctor, shows her a slideshow that amounts to ‘‘you’re adopted!! :)" doctor breaks out of her matrix prison thing by overloading it with memories when the matrix is The Supercomputer and it’s used to hold all memories of all time lords ever? you know, the species whove been doing their thing for a billion years and live up to 10,000 years? the doctors new memories should either already be there or make nary a dent in it. the doctor’s like ‘‘why would they do that! why would they lie?’’ girl they have been lying to you since forever. they killed you once. theyve tried to kill you so many times. they turned you into a fucked up anti time monster that one time. one of the doctors past past selves even told her it doesnt really matter!! what was even the point

Our Flag Means Death - 2.08 Mermen

cw: vomit

Stede, Zheng, Spanish Jackie and the rest of the Revenge crew team up to take down a nefarious common enemy threatening the world of piracy.

1) paced like a runaway train, worst actor kiss i've seen in all my years, weird resolutions for two newly-introduced characters who started with lots of potential but ended up with no narrative payoff. (spoilers) removed a really strong actor/character from an overwhelmingly mediocre cast and caused a giant rift in the fandom with some (falsely) claiming that the major character death was bury-your-gays, homophobic, ableist, etc. and that they were done with the show (we'll see about that), and others claiming it made perfect sense to kill off this character because he was "ready to die"

2) Season 1 was so promising, and set up so much! Season 2 SEEMED like it was gonna fulfill some of that promise... That is, of course, until they squandered all of those loose plot threads, character moments, potential arcs, etc. in a half-assed episode that was basically all filler and ended with one of the most unsatisfying, pointless, and unemotional deaths of TV that gave us all 'Dean with the rusty nail' flashbacks. Even the *seagull* got a better death. Not even the canon ship felt satisfying!! Their kiss and ending was extremely rushed and they didn't actually go anywhere from the end of S1.

3) Least of all it was all very rushed. More importantly Izzy was absolutely fucked and his death didn’t make sense with the writing of the rest of the series. Ed en Stede’s character development throughout the season got thrown away for some ”happy” ending which would’ve been better if they just stayed with the crew.

[cursivebloodlines]

hello! i am alive and who knew that the way to get me writing is to add 4 mediocre open starters and two test clowns to the dumpster fire of my chaos! i am actually drafting drafts! what is this???

i am very rusty, yes, and what i write may be complete tosh but an attempt is being made and progress is progress! until something distracts me LOL. will i complete any tonight? probably not, ngl! but progress will be made ~

[zigzagspam]

I’m dumping my Doctor who (Oc?) fanfiction on y’all and then going to bed so I don’t have time to be embarrassed. Fair warning actual writing quality is probably mediocre at best because I’m rusty.

Basic idea is that the Doctor is regenerating and his(her) current companion is not very happy about it.

———————————————————————

“DOCTOR!?”

Two women burst through wooden blue doors out of breath and panicked. One, a brunette limped toward a console in the center of the room and the other, a blonde rushed after her, frantic.

“DOCTOR SLOW DOWN YOU’RE INJURED!!” The blond screeched as she lurched forward to catch up with the other woman

“I’m more than injured, Marley” The Doctor said wryly, turning to slump down against the console. Her words carried a humor to them despite the dark implication.

“What are you saying?” Marley said crouching down to meet the Doctor’s eye level.” The medbay is only but a couple paces away. I can, I can get you patched up!” Marley stammered as she reached out to grab the Doctor’s wrist with her shaking hands.

“No, the Viramoth’s toxins are too far into my bloodstream now.” The Doctor let out a weak cough as if all the air had just been taken from her lungs. “My nervous system should be completely shut down within the next minute and a half.”

“Your nervous system? No! Doctor you can’t die now! I’ve watched you survive so much worse.” Marley took notice of her companion’s state. Clammy skin, racing pulse, labored breath’s and a brow beaded with sweat. The Doctor was right, the poison transferred from the gash on her left arm was killing her, and quickly.

“Shhh shh- It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

“Timelords, we keep a little trick up our sleeve for moments like this.“

“What? What could yo-“

Before Marley had a chance to finish her sentence she noticed what seemed like gold glowing dust particles start to emerge and cover the Doctor. They were stunning yet sorrowful in a way that she couldn’t quite explain.

“I’ll survive but I might not look the same, or be the same as you remember me now. I’ll still be me of course, just different.”

The Doctor, felt a wave of pain and nausea wash over her. She squeezed her eyes shut and tilt her head up to lean back further on the console.

“Different?! Doctor you can’t. You can’t just SPRING this on me! You’re saying that you’re going to change into a whole other person yet still be you??” Marley felt tears pricking at her eyes, threatening to spill over. This wasn’t any better than death, she thought. Her beloved Doctor, the one who she had grown the know so intimately, was being replaced by a stranger! “You can’t…”

She hung her head for a second as she squeezed the doctor’s wrist.

“I’m sorry Marley.”

The Doctor shifted her head back down to try and make eye contact with Marley. “If I had a choice…”

“Heaven’s, I wish I could just stay with you as I am, continue looking at you with these eyes. It almost feels selfish to think.”

The Doctor raised a hand to cup her companions cheek.

Marley met the Doctor’s gaze, eyes red from crying. “Well if this is that last time I’m going to see your face, this face…” Marley trailed off as she looks at the doctor. Her eyebrows knitted and she let out a breath before lunging forward to press her lips to the other Woman’s.

Golden light illuminates them both, bright enough so that even if they opened their eyes neither would be able to see the other. Beneath the gleaming mist Marley could feel the doctor’s hand shift to the back of her head and her head tilted to kiss Marley back. It wasn’t until the light had died down and subsided that Marley noticed that her neck was positioned back into a very awkward and uncomfortable angle. Had the Doctor gotten taller?

After a second Marley finally broke away from the kiss and opened her eyes. A gasp escaped her as she saw what was now a Raven haired man sitting in front of her. Her face flushed and she scrambled backwards, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Being told exactly what was about to happen didn’t make the sight any less shocking.

“What’s the matter?”

“Am I ugly?”

———————————————————————

The Doctor was now a dark haired, green eyed, pale, and slender man. His facial features were long yet delicate like a raven’s sculpted from marble. His skin was nearly flawless and his hair swooped naturally to the right. His clothes, now a size too small, clung to his body uncomfortably. He turned around and pressed his hands down onto the lip of the center console as a way to push him off of the ground. His arms and legs trembled beneath his weight as if they were too frail to carry him. He made his way over to a full body mirror in a corner of the room leaning on miscellaneous furniture and walls to insure he didn’t topple over. Marley made a mental note that it made total since that someone who had just died would have a hard time walking.

“Doctor?” Marley called out hesitantly.

“Well this is a sight isn’t it! I haven’t been this tall in a good while. And the hair too, still not ginger but it sure is pretty.” The Doctor twisted and twirled around in the mirror like a young girl trying on her Sunday’s best.

“Doctor!” Marley repeated more sternly.

The Doctor turned toward Marley and away from the mirror seeming quite content with his new form.

“…It is you right?” Marley asked timidly. the thought that she may now be trapped in a timeless void with a strange man was not appealing.

“Oh I’m sorry dear I should go get changed. You shouldn’t have to see me so unsightly like this.” The Doctor attempted to make a move towards the hallway but was halted by him limbs once again struggling to keep up with the rest of his body.

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Marley could feel her temper starting to boil but it was quickly extinguished when she noticed the Doctor about to topple over. Instinctively she rushed over to support him.

“Should you even be walking right now?”

The Doctor only answered her with a sly smile. “How about after I get dress we pop over to your home planet? Say nineteen seventy… err one?”

“Oh you are just as insufferable as the first day I met you.” Marley huffed letting go of the Doctor. Part of her hoped he’d lose his balance and face plant into the deck of the ship.

“I’ll be back in a tick!” The Doctor gave Marley a small pat on the back before once again making his way out of the room.

Back in a tick? Since when had the Doctor started saying that? Marley questioned as she waited for his return. As she stood in silence she started to wonder what this new form meant for the future, and what I meant for their relationship. Oh goodness she had kissed him! She’d kissed him and now he was acting like it never even happened. Sure maybe it was just that the whole new body thing was more pressing but she thought he would have at least mentioned it. Panic started to to consume Marley but before it got a chance the Doctor came back into the room with a flourish.

“What do you think?”

The Doctor was now wearing an open pink collar shirt, well fitted black pants with white threading, some matte black dress shoes and was carrying a simple wooden cake with a golden raven skull on the handle. His shirt shimmered almost iridescently, turning blue briefly when the light hit it.

“You look… utterly ridiculous.” Marley tried to keep a straight face but a twitching at the corners of her mouth betrayed her.

“You think I look handsome.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“Oh come on, not even a little bit?”

Marley folded her arms and squeezed her lips into a line in one final attempt to keep her composure. “Go on, do a little spin.”

[beatricebidelaire]

but sometimes it’s so easy to fall into the feeling that you are the combination of the negative traits of two different things. it happens with so many dichotomies. not just neither my mother nor my father but a third worse thing.

say, i have none of the traditional feminine traits that people traditionally look for in a girlfriend nor the traditionally masculine traits people look for in a boyfriend. neither the literary sense of a student in literary fields nor the math/science acumen of someone from stem fields. bilingual but feeling like you aren’t proficient in either. i’m not a good cook but neither am i good mechanic or fixing things that are broken. i don’t get classic literature references nor advanced calculus. my english is not as good as native speaker and my chinese feels like it’s in decline. i’d joke that i’m good at neither languages but that’s okay i’m an engineer anyway that’s stereotypical of us isn’t it the languages i understand best are actually c++ and python but actually i’m so basic at those too look at all friends who solve coding problems so much faster and as a hobby. but it’s not like that, not really, or at least i hope not, or maybe i’m kidding myself or whatever. but i’d like to think that maybe i’m just mediocre enough at all things that i could still scrap by in general and enough background knowledge in just the vaguest sense that if i want to delve into something deeper then i can go from there. yeah i’m not a good cook but i can still feed myself cook for myself it’s just that i don’t think anyone else would want to eat what i cooked but the truth is that people have, just not that often. i still know a few dishes, simple as they are and i can survive on that. i don’t know how to fix things intuitively but i could still give it a try if i liked it up online and follow the step by step, it may be trial and error in a lot of cases but it can still be done, unless it can’t which happens sometimes but when can you do. and my friends ask me to look over their english essays or SOPs when they apply for schools and i know i can actually give constructive feedback wrt not just grammar errors but also how the thing overall reads, or when i travel with my family and is the one to talk to people to buy thing or resolve issues over the phone or whatever and it occurs to me that other people actually think my english is pretty okay as a non native speaker and i read books in two languages regularly and granted they’re not of deep complex literature stuff they’re often just murder mystery and sci-fi and nonfiction books where the language are straightforward but at least on i’ve learned quite a few technical terms related to forensic science (thank you, mr deaver) which admittedly i probably won’t get a chance to use in real life but whatever. and i can read both traditional chinese and simplified chinese characters even though writing them feels a little rusty. and i can code, not well enough but well enough to trick my colleagues into believing i am capable i can’t write code as quickly and effortlessly but i can still put together something that works if i spend some extra time behind the scenes secretly, because that’s the trick to being an imposter like if you need longer time you do it on your own time and pretend you didn’t and it can seem like you did it in the same speed as others would have. like i am just mediocre at many skills but i’d like to think, or i’d like to pretend that it’s just with enough background knowledge that when i do want to do something or learn a concept like trying to fix a broken thing or understand a math proof or solve this leetcode problem that if i take a little time i can likely get it, maybe, probably, or at least i’m trying. sometimes that has to be enough. maybe, i don’t know.

ofc that’s all skillwise and knowledge stuff, when it comes to gender presentation things it’s like. well. mother tells me i need to grow my hair longer that it’ll look prettier and more attractive, that i should learn to wear at least a little bit, the most basic makeup such as eyebrows and lipstick but i neither want to grow my hair longer nor wear makeup ever except i don’t look even a little bit masculine at all either, i’m like genderless but unlike everyone else who is genderless they’re all genderless in a cool way i just look genderless in a ….. like a kid who hasn’t grown into anything, way. except i’m in my late 20s. absolutely swagless, one might say. although if i’m like, the only one swagless and uncool one maybe that makes me cool if in a unique way because it’s like the interesting number paradox, isn’t it? the smallest of all uninteresting numbers is interesting in the sense that it the smallest uninteresting number! hey, that’s unique. which removes it from the uninteresting numbers, therefore in the new set there’s a new smallest uninteresting number…… and so on and so forth so there’s no uninteresting number. we’re all interesting in our own way.

but i digress.

because at the end of the day it’s like yeah i’m not attractive but it’s like, whatever, i do have some skills and that’s enough for me and yeah they’re mediocre but i’m good enough at being an imposter that i can sort of just, be okay, enough to go through the motions, it’s like, fake it till you make it, you know. you just gotta keep faking it. i have successfully tricked some very competent colleague for years into believing i am capable at solving the problems by just using the most basic trial and error style debugging and looking up the errors from the compiler and heavily reliant on stackoverflow and duckduckgoing the syntaxes and keywords when i need to find information. but also, maybe that’s just adulthood. it doesn’t matter that you need to look up more stuff than the others as long as you look them up and know how to use them when it’s needed.

i keep getting away from my point. what was i talking about.

oh right. i am still neither my mother nor my father but a third worse thing (their daughter). but. oh well. whatever. at least i possibly am so swagless that it’s almost cool and there’s a reasonable chance that i can name more nordic noir detectives than you can (no it doesn’t have any practical use unless we’re like, stuck in a room and to unlock the door and get out we need to answer 3 questions about scandinavian crime fiction)

[newdejavuu]

I'm always interested in good rpf. And also bad rpf. And also mediocre rpf.

No but also when it comes to creative works regardless of medium, just putting any level of care and work into it makes it be special, just cause y'know you made that! (Sorry if that was way too corny, I on occasion can be weirdly ernest)

Also it sounded interesting so like, you're good man, people (ie me) will read it.

Hey nonnie, thanks for making me cry 😭

No, but seriously thank you for the words of encouragement regarding the fic(s) I’m working on atm. I’m SOOOO nervous about posting them. It’s been a really long time since I’ve really engaged in a creative project, so I feel unbelievably rusty and idk the anxiety is just amplified. (Putting anything creative out in the world is terrifying and vulnerable but it feels doubly so for me right now.)

Graduate school I think destroyed my brain and it’s become SO hard to do literally anything for pleasure — especially reading and writing. Rather than feeling like a chore, tho, writing this fic has actually been very cathartic to me.

So, it’s simultaneously TERRIFYING and EXHILARATING at the same time.

But, anyway — thank you so so so so much. I really do appreciate the kind words and reminder 🫶🏻

[softness-and-shattering]

When I was a kid, I really enjoyed making art, and I was mediocre-to-bad at it. I was showing talent in other areas and I jusf figured, I like it but I guess its not for me.

Sometime in high school I came across the idea of talent and skill being different things and it completely blew my mind.

Once I graduated and I had spare bandwith, I thought "eh why not" and started drawing. Have to start somewhere, right? And what I drew was not skilled at all. Like whatsoever. I remember struggling to just get face proportions to look as though deliberately exaggerated and not like I had no idea what I was doing because it wasnt going to resemble accurate at all because I DIDNT have any idea what I was doing.

Energy limitations aside, writing has always come easy to me, on the whole. I can study and learn and improve and try new techniques, and it isnt necessarily easy like no effort, and the words dont always just flow, by something in me just gets it, just has an ear for language rhythms and thinks of interesting metaphors; I have talent in writing.

In contrast, learning to draw is WORK. Its difficult. I struggle. The image in my mind is always way more complex than the version I can get onto paper. My taste is way beyond my skills, I dont begin to know how to pull off my art ambitions. Sometimes I dont even know the language for what Im trying to do.

However, its been years and years and years since I started being diligent with my art practise, and now I can create things that are pretty decently good most of the time. That at least resemble what I was going for, that show some amount of skill. But Im not much talented. Its slow going.

Its fun, and its worth it, and it makes me happy and fulfills me creatively.

I actually started trying out some clothing designs recently and that came surprisingly easily. When I started with art I was attempting modest superhero outfits and mashing characters together and it was fun, but frustrating that it never looked polished or like, good. But the practise paid off. The practise always pays off somehow. Every abandoned WIP, especially those abandoned bc my skills fell short, and there are MANY of those, its all XP and Im a few levels ahead now of where I was.

If Id been able to write prose this whole time, realistically, it would be excellent by now. Woe gd has nerfed me because writing is absolutely exhausting in ways that other art and craft are not.

(I say this so you know im not being super modest about the visual art. I know im a talented writer, albeit a very rusty one. Im not a particularly talented visual artist but Ive drilled some skills into my brain and muscle memory).

(And yes it absolutely pisses me off when people say "youre so talented at art I could never." Im not, and I couldnt either. To get to my mid skill level has been a fuckton of work, it didnt come from nowhere, I wasnt blessed with it. Writing skill I have definitely put in work, but Im on a motorboat and my visual art im paddling in a kayak. Progress, and effort, are measured very differently between them).

So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?

“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”

And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.

[micah-write]

Dif anon but did you really "if it was that bad they woulda left sooner" a story about spousal and child abuse? Like aside from being extrememly hypocritical and victim blamey, what the hell would a woman with 3/4 children do to take care of herself and her kods without money? Without any connections in the country?

Also it was literally explained the kids were home schooled and yes Meriam was forced to give birth at home.

Like hate Leasebound all you want have at it, but you need to work on your reading comprehension skills.

And rusty need to learn how to write stories properly . Because ok let's stop dick riding her for a moment and idk listen to someone who actually got abused ???

Because when someone is actually abused so bad the fleeing is the best solutions they don't think about money , it's survival first and foremost . Money comes after . And we've been shown that meriam knows ways to find money, she has the people at the hotel to help her . She already had a system to help her that she could've went back to . Rusty made a fantasy out of abuse , she made it seem like a black and white situation where it's so easy to understand you're being abused and where everything goes right in a snap of fingers . Maybe you need to read more than politically biased book with no research done to portray complex situations properly ? Because you obviously don't understand how insidious complex and vile abuse is . You're saying she has no connection in the country but her plan was to escape with a baby and 2 toddlers by foot ??? And money was a concern ?? How about idk thinking about it for a second and realizing how the plan of walking miles with young kids was terribly dangerous . Especially in Australia with the dangerous insects that could've struck them and they couldn't even have the time to see it ??? And we still don't know how they got food , we still don't know a bunch of shit Aka PLOTHOLES . Her depiction of abuse is pure woman strength fantasy . And when depicting sensitive topics it's just gross to paint your biased vision . And yes in meriam situation she was very early understanding it was abused , she saved up for months if not years cents. So yes rusty making it last longer like that was gross because the plan could've been executed sooner or later it wouldn't have changed nothing , the plan was a mediocre attempt at showing "female solidarity" so yes in that case she should've escaped sooner x especially before getting knocked up with another child .

[dont-leafmealone]

get to know you tag game

Thanks @feruchemical for the tag!

Are you named after anyone?

Not after a person, but a place!

When was the last time you cried?

between Monday and Thursday last week

Do you have any kids?

No, and I plan to keep it that way for a good while

What sports do you play?

competitive lazing about

Do you use sarcasm?

yeah, a fair bit

What is the first thing you notice about someone?

Hair and height

Eye color?

idk, blue?

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, mostly. Not a strict rule or anything

Any talents?

i can draw ok, and I have a real knack for annoying people (on purpose. I can play the Smooth Sharks game for hours)

Where were you born?

Michigan USA

Hobbies?

Argue with my brother, sew, draw, bake, paint, write mediocre excuses for making my fav skrunklies fight or kiss

Any pets?

a cat <3

Height?

5'5 1/2 (the half is important)

Favorite subject?

English language arts I like themes and stuff. History is also cool!

Dream job?

Pumpkin farmer/peddler of pumpkin flavored wares

I tag @juniperhillpatient, @rusty-lustful-fireflies, @newbie-i-guess and anyone who wants to participate!

[oxiegoeimi]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Andrew Cortez Cayanan (@oxiegoeimi)

Art| Playing the melody

Artist| #t1na

Mediocre and rusty, this blade lost its way swinging freely against the tide. Frustrated by desire, I couldn’t fit all my toys in the box. Early mornings racing the Sun and alarm clock, I found myself atop Everest alone. Picking up the phone to send her photos, somewhere along the way, I erased it from my world. Crumbling under the pressure of time, I picked up my bottles of pills to normalize. As tempting as overdose was in those hours, I pulled the trigger and found myself on the other side of life. Hoping that it would be permanent, this atmosphere pulled my reckless butt back to reality. Familiar faces nodded in common understanding; each of us hung out in the gutter secretly. Intoxicated by the beauty of your eyes and warmth of your gravity, I felt something break inside this psyche. Strangers and monsters became family. My reflection stopped overriding your voice. Species no longer determined companionship. Time couldn’t rob us of inspiration. Instead of feeling a need for happiness, I let the tears flow alongside my fellow soldiers. Different nationalities, generations, and worldviews; we saw this alien invasion of aging and let it take hold of home. Youth, I certainly miss you. Adulthood, you have some cool factor too. Elderhood, I’ll see you someday. For now, I’m just experiencing this piece of eternity bare. Thank you for the ride so far my invisible. As much as I love and hate you, we have forever to dance this drama together. Yup.

- oxiegoeimi

catharsis 11.1 🦁🏳🔐💙 remember to always #trust #nature 🌲 #Healer 🔥 #Spirit 🕊 #hope ⚜️ #grace ☔️ #love 🌸 #life 🌊 #unity 🌈 #believe 💝 #weareone ✂️🕚🎶 #energy #PinkySwear #prayer #meditation #freelove #hereandhereafter #dream #vision #Eternity #paradise #infinity #light #origin #writing #source journey #create #coexist #together 💜🌠🌅🌟

[lowtaxsa]

Disney's Marvel's Avengers (2008 to Too fucking long)

Alright, folks, buckle the fuck up, because we're about to dive headfirst into the steaming pile of cow dung that is Disney's Marvel's Avengers. If you've ever wanted to experience the cinematic equivalent of getting repeatedly punched in the face while riding a roller coaster through a landfill, then boy, have I got a treat for you. With a runtime that feels like a never-ending descent into madness, this so-called "franchise" is nothing more than an amusement park ride designed for those who crave the sweet, sweet embrace of childish fantasy indulgence and bootlicking dick-suckery.

So, let's talk about Endgame and everything that's come after, shall we? But before you think I'm gonna let pre-Endgame off the hook, let me be crystal fucking clear: it's just as bad, if not worse.

First off, the plotlines in this godforsaken franchise are about as coherent as a fever dream fueled by bathtub gin and expired cold medicine. It's like the writers got together, threw a bunch of comic book pages into a blender, and called it a day. What's that? You want a cohesive narrative? Well, tough shit, kiddo, because you're getting a never-ending parade of two-dimensional characters and plot twists so predictable, even a blind, deaf, and dumb chimp could see them coming a mile away.

And speaking of characters, holy hell, where do I even begin? It's like a who's who of forgettable nobodies, each one more bland and interchangeable than the last. There's Tony "I'm a billionaire but can't figure out how to use a razor" Stark, Steve "I've got the personality of wet cardboard" Rogers, and Bruce "I turn into a green rage monster because I didn't get enough hugs as a child" Banner. And let's not forget Thor, the god of lightning or whatever, who apparently can't decide if he wants to be a Shakespearean drama queen or a discount Conan the Barbarian. Oh, and the list goes on and on, like a never-ending nightmare from which there is no escape.

Now, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the one bright spot in this unholy quagmire of mediocrity: Guardians of the Galaxy. Yes, believe it or not, there's actually a movie in this franchise that doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon. And before you start thinking I've gone soft, let me assure you that this movie is far from perfect. But at least it's got a sense of humor, a killer soundtrack, and a talking raccoon that could kick Tony Stark's ass from here to Timbuktu.

But let's talk about the real elephant in the room, shall we? Chris "the fat loser millennial who got everything he never deserved in Parks and Recreation" Pratt. I mean, come on, guys. Is this really the best we can do for a leading man? A guy who looks like he stumbled out of a frat house, still reeking of stale beer and regret? If this is what passes for a superhero these days, then maybe it's time to admit that we've truly hit rock bottom.

The special effects in these movies are about as impressive as a middle school science project, and that's being generous. I've seen more convincing CGI in a Geocities webpage from 1998. And don't even get me started on the fight scenes. It's like watching a bunch of action figures being smashed together by a hyperactive toddler, complete with the requisite grunting and shouting. Real compelling stuff, guys. Bravo.

The dialogue is a whole other level of awful. I mean, seriously, who writes this drivel? It's like they hired a team of angsty teenagers to cobble together a script using nothing but catchphrases and outdated pop culture references. Every time one of these cardboard cutout characters opens their mouth, it's like being assaulted by a barrage of clichés and cringeworthy one-liners. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire writing process consisted of throwing darts at a board covered in buzzwords and hoping for the best.

And let's take a moment to discuss the villains, shall we? These so-called "threats to humanity" are about as intimidating as a wet fart in a crowded elevator. I mean, we've got a guy with a purple chin who wants to wipe out half the universe because he's got some kind of cosmic OCD, a robot with an emo haircut and a God complex, and whatever the hell that dark elf thing was supposed to be. It's like the writers just gave up halfway through and decided to throw in the towel. The final boss? Yeah he's, uh, purple - like Barney the Dinosaur purple, and uhh... he's got a fucked up chin. And he's like a billion Hitlers!

Don't even get me started on the endless parade of sequels, spin-offs, and shameless cash grabs that have been spawned by this monstrosity. It's like a hydra: every time you think you've finally killed it, two more heads sprout up in its place. And just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, they announce yet another movie, TV show, or godforsaken theme park attraction to further milk this bloated, festering cash cow. Can anyone tell me who the intended audience for "She-Hulk: Attorney at Law" is? Because I can't see anyone with a functioning cortex going for that, and I'm pretty sure humans need to have functioning cortices to turn on the TV. Yeah, I'll wait - I'm already dead, so I can wait for fucking ever.

Now, you might be wondering: why am I even bothering to write this review? Well, it's simple, really. I've made it my mission to expose the truth about Disney's Marvel's Avengers and its insidious stranglehold on popular culture. Because, let's face it, folks: we deserve better. Or not, but I actually don't give a fuck about that part I think.

Well, buckle up, kiddos, because now we're gonna dive headfirst into the steaming pile of horse manure that is Avengers: Endgame. That's right, the "grand finale" of the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe – or at least, that's what they want you to think. In reality, it's just another bloated, overstuffed, self-indulgent exercise in corporate greed and creative bankruptcy. But hey, at least it's three hours long, right? That's gotta count for something! And to think, that's roughly the same amount of time it takes for Tony Stark to go through his morning narcissism routine.

Let's start with everyone's favorite smug, snarky billionaire: Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. You know, the guy who basically started this whole mess in the first place. Over the course of the series, Tony's gone from a charming, if somewhat insufferable, genius playboy to... well, basically the same thing, only now he's got a shiny suit of armor and a seemingly endless supply of daddy issues. In Endgame, we're supposed to believe that this self-absorbed, egotistical man-child is suddenly willing to sacrifice himself to save half the universe? Give me a break. Then again, it's probably the only way he could get people to stop talking about how his ego is bigger than his tower.

I mean, come on, have you ever met a Silicon Valley CEO? These guys wouldn't lift a finger to help anyone unless it boosted their stock prices or got them a glowing profile in Forbes magazine. And yet, we're expected to swallow this ridiculous narrative about Tony Stark nobly giving his life for the greater good, like some kind of high-tech martyr? Wouldn't he outsource the giving his life part to a Lithium miner in Bolivia? It's enough to make you want to vomit, and not just because of the terrible dialogue. Seriously, I've seen more believable sacrifices in a kindergarten play about the first Thanksgiving.

Speaking of terrible dialogue, let's take a moment to appreciate the sheer ineptitude of the script. I've seen high school plays with more coherent storylines and better character development than this cinematic monstrosity. The plot is so convoluted and nonsensical you really get to appreciate the comic book salad puree they serve with every fucking movie in this "franchise." Time travel? Sure, why not. Quantum realms? Throw it in there. An intergalactic scavenger hunt for magic space rocks? Hell, it worked for the last movie, didn't it? This script is so bad, I'm pretty sure it was written on the back of a cocktail napkin during a drunken game of Mad Libs.

And don't even get me started on the "humor" in this film. It's like they took all the worst jokes from a Reddit thread, translated them into another language, and then translated them back into English using Google Translate. Every attempt at levity falls flatter than a pancake, leaving you cringing in your seat and praying for the sweet release of death. Honestly, I've heard better jokes at a funeral, and at least those had the decency to end quickly.

But hey, let's not forget the "action" – if you can even call it that. The big, climactic battle at the end is such a chaotic, CGI-laden mess that it's nearly impossible to tell what's going on. It's like watching someone play a video game on the highest difficulty setting while simultaneously suffering from a seizure. And, of course, it all culminates in the most predictable, clichéd way possible: the heroes save the day, the bad guy gets his comeuppance, and everyone goes home happy. Well, everyone except the audience, that is. At this point, I'd rather watch two squirrels fighting over an acorn than sit through another second of this CGI dumpster fire.

Now, before I wrap up this long-winded rant of mine, I think it's important to give some well-deserved "credit" to the masterminds behind this mess. You know, the ones who are really to blame for dragging us all down into this quagmire of mediocrity. Let's take a moment to appreciate the fine work of the producers, writers, and directors who've made this delightful train wreck possible.

I mean, let's start with the producers, shall we? The Russo brothers, Anthony and Joe, who seem to have made it their life's mission to churn out these cookie-cutter superhero flicks with all the depth and nuance of a kiddie pool. I mean, sure, they directed some episodes of Community, so clearly they've got the chops to handle an overblown, self-important franchise like the MCU, right? And let's not forget Kevin Feige, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes, raking in the cash while gleefully pushing out more and more of these shallow, formulaic movies like some sort of capitalist assembly line. I can practically hear him cackling as he counts his billions, completely unconcerned with the damage he's doing to the cinematic landscape.

Then we've got the writers – Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely – who somehow manage to take fascinating characters with rich comic book histories and reduce them to one-dimensional caricatures. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if they just threw darts at a board full of tropes and clichés to come up with their scripts. "Oh look, it landed on 'heroic sacrifice' – let's just shoehorn that in there somewhere!" They've managed to create a world where every character's dialogue sounds like it was ripped straight from a bad action movie from the '90s, and nobody seems to care because, hey, at least there's a big explosion every five minutes.

As for the directors, the Russo brothers (yes, them again), they've managed to take all the worst aspects of Hollywood elitism and distill it into a single, bloated franchise. It's as if they're completely oblivious to the fact that there's an entire world outside of their insular bubble of wealth and privilege, a world where people actually have to deal with real problems like poverty, inequality, and systemic injustice. Instead, they just keep pumping out these overproduced, self-indulgent spectacles that pander to the lowest common denominator, all while patting themselves on the back for being such "visionaries." It's enough to make you want to grab a pitchfork and storm the gates of their Hollywood mansions, just to remind them that there's more to life than CGI explosions and witty one-liners.

So, there you have it, folks: the creative "geniuses" behind Disney's Marvel's Avengers, a team of Hollywood elitists and ruling class bootlickers who seem to think that their sole purpose in life is to cram as much mindless, soul-crushing entertainment down our throats as humanly possible. And you know what? They're probably right – because as long as we keep shelling out our hard-earned cash for this swill, they're going to keep shoveling it right back at us, one terrible movie at a time. But hey, at least we can take solace in the fact that even they can't keep this train wreck going forever... right?

Now, I could go on for another thousand words about the myriad problems with Avengers: Endgame – the paper-thin characters, the nonsensical plot twists, the complete and utter lack of originality – but honestly, what's the point? We all know that this movie is a steaming pile of garbage, and no amount of snarky commentary or sarcastic quips can change that. So, instead, I'll leave you with this simple plea: for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, stop giving your hard-earned money to these soulless corporate shills. Disney's Marvel's Avengers is a never-ending cavalcade of craptastic cinema that should be avoided like the plague. If you want to waste your time and money on this mind-numbing dreck, be my guest. But don't say I didn't warn you. And as for me, I'll be over here, mourning the death of creativity and originality in modern filmmaking while I drown my sorrows in a bottomless pit of despair and cheap whiskey. Cheers, fuckers.

Lowtax's Score: Plot: -10 Acting: -9 Special Effects: -8 Directing: -10 Music / Sound: -6 Overall: -43 Each category in the rating system is based out of a possible -10 score (-10 being the worst). The overall score is based out of a possible -50 score (-50 being the worst)