#stop crucifying them

[renarots]

Me sitting here while I see posts about how drivers react on radios like I don’t say worse in lobbies that aren’t even ranked

[kittyslashers]

this is my roman empire.

[evermoredeluxe]

seeing people comment that taylor looks pregnant on eras photo when that woman works out like 15+ hours a week and is literally all muscle and looks tiny literally makes me wanna 🤮

[demodraws0606]

All I'm gonna post today is that I have very strong feelings about the fact that the dude who literally almost has never showed up on the server has more animatics than the man who has spent everyday constructing an intricate and fascinate plotline full of mysteries and cool moments <3

[lesbianfakir]

Fakir's theme (Beethoven's Coriolan Overture) always struck me as funny because it stands apart from the other character's themes. Mytho has the delicate Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, Rue the somber Gymnopedie No 1, Duck the cheerful Nutcracker Oveture etc... while Fakir's theme is well... LOUD.

It characterizes his most aggressive moments, mainly playing in scenes where he antagonizes Mytho and Duck.

This always sat a little weird with me as it is a very surface-level character theme for such a complex character. In contrast, Rue's theme tells us something about her motivations under the Kraehe persona. Fakir's on the other hand tells us that he's mean and aggressive... something any viewer who's gotten to a scene where the song plays already knows.

On one of my rewatches, though, I noticed that he has another song that functions as a sort of secondary theme: an excerpt from Scheherazade.

This song plays most notably throughout most of episode 12, while he is bonding with Duck. It shows up a few times later in season 2, mainly in scenes concerning Fakir's struggle to write. As such, I view it as a complementary theme to the Coriolan Overture.

Listening to the song, it feels much more in line with Fakir we've come to know him. The song can be a little delicate and a little sad with gentle wind solos that lead into loud, grand orchestral sections. The repetitiveness, tempo, and use of dramatic brass and strings give these louder sections a gallant, almost desperate tone. It's super fitting that this is the song that plays throughout the episode where we get the best sense of Fakir's natural personality when he isn't putting on the cold persona.

I don't really have a deeper analysis here I just think it's really fun that as his character develops he gets an additional theme. If you think about it the music in Tutu functions as a sort of jukebox musical--the world and characters are built around the songs. Once we start to get to know who Fakir really is, the music that represents him changes to reflect him better.

[ask-itager]

who's taking whose last name when you get married?

But really it doesnt matter since we'll still be called "mister germany" and "mister italy" anyways

[solarwynd]

armys are now saying that scooter is the one bringing in sofia to work with jimin. like we all know jimin is not working with scooter but armys want to pat themselves on the back for calling it out and saying he's working with scooter because they know they did not give a fuck about boycotting golden with scooter's paws all over it. it's ridiculous.

So any god damn way

[kai-atlantis]

Ngl everytime I hop on tumblr, it's just people criticising other people as if they are perfect themselves; it's criticizing people's personalities and their communication styles and leaving zero room for situational mistakes or issues and simply labeling them "bad"; it's being okay with several topics but then going on several rants on why you *don't actually like them* and it leaves you feeling confused whiplash; it's people making posts on how other people are wrong or all the flaws one can have, and leaving zero room for the entire human being on the other side of your rant, being told the way they feel and their side are not relevant because they have other flaws at fault.

The reason we're all anxious and weren't decades ago? It's not just the internet. It's that everyone is constantly, constantly judging and criticising each other online. Constant. Criticism. No wonder we're all fucking anxious. If you hate someone online and crucify them for literally making any sort of mistake or saying something off or odd you don't understand (yet you claim to love and support neurodivergents), you cannot refuse that you may have some part in the toxic online critical culture. You're not an exception. I understand this post is critical as well, but holy hell, tumblr is not a fun place for me anymore.

[pulchrasilva]

Sigh I need to rant about certain people and how there is a background noise of discomfort with every interaction after particular incidents that made me go "bitch you live like this???" but all my typical vent spaces are ones where they might see it and the only ones that they wouldn't see it in are like discord channels that are not for this topic of vent or friends who would be uncomfortable with the topic etc like,,, what do I even do? Stew in it?

[ghoul-haunted]

like, despite the absolute brainrot that I have about crassus, I do spend a lot of time thinking about all the other players in a scene. like you can't NOT think about slavery when you fuck around with crassus, because his stance on what obligation a head of a household has to his slaves when placed next to say. fucking cato's thoughts on slaves is just. wrugh. when germanicus was raging at his fate and talking about bodies in the walls, like no shit buddy, youre a roman aristocrat. if you have heated baths in like, your house, you have bodies under your floor already. you ever think about how educated slaves from roman aristocrat families who were able to buy their freedom were viewed with a certain degree of mistrust from both sides. that's so fucking lonely. I cannot stop thinking about the scholar from the spartacus documentary saying the worst thing about becoming enslaved was to get used to it.

[xignis]

tears of the kingdom has been out for less than a week and people have already put those little koroks in so many fucked up situations

[gouinisme]

this just in: local girl wants them titties oBLITERATED

[cainite-bite]

sometimes i just look at someone’s ignorant postings where they go “why isnt it common knowledge that -blank-” and just... deeply fuckin sigh because they clearly lived under a rock so damn badly that they have pretended it was normal, when in fact what they are talking about is such fucking common knowledge (that they still don’t even understand the half of yet even) and it was them that was the fuckin dumbass this entire time

[queenimmadolla]

AND THIS TOO.

there’s a really good Eddie x reader fic that I have a love/hate relationship with, for some fucking reason, out of all the dudes in ST4 (including the behemoth who tackled a little black girl) Patrick was written as the creepy villain.

Patrick, who doesn’t harm anyone, literally isn’t depicted doing anything wrong, tells one of his drunk ass friends to stop saying stupid shit, seems genuinely concerned about everything going on, is being abused by his father, is trying to help his best friend find who they believe murdered his girlfriend and is only seen swimming after Jason (there was no way this man planned on harming a single hair on Eddie’s head, he was just following Jason and if anything I think he would have stopped him from fighting Eddie) when he was killed.

now what about him screams creepy villain of the story? hmn? I know everyone thinks the basketball team is some street gang—when really only like what, four players participated in the events in ST4–but please, please stop demonizing the very few black people on this show. especially when they aren’t portrayed to be bad in the first place. they’re all we got. and he’s a sweetheart.

Can y’all yt stranger things fans stop paint Patrick as creep in y’all’s fanfics use Andy instead

Like look at Andy and tell me he doesn’t give creepy vibes(he literally made a gross comment about Chrissy also tell me he wouldn’t be a sleaze ball)

But look at how nice Patrick is (also Rip my nigga Patrick you didn’t deserve to die like that😔 and so quick too we never saw his Vecna vision🤨)

Like yeah Patrick was apart of the basketball team but he was defending Chrissy when Andy made a gross comment about her.

[davestriderascend]

first, aradia and dave r rlly cute. second, this is hilarious. third, rip the shippers

[a-b-riddle]

Hear me out, but obsessed Simon Riley x reader.

When you’re accused of being a traitor, Simon doesn’t hesitate in getting to work.

Even though you handed over all of your passwords, given them access to anything and everything they him immediately, it did nothing to help. You were going to be crucified.

Price and Laswell had already made the call. A call Simon couldn’t stand by and let happen.

It’s not that Simon believed you when you tried to prove you weren’t the leak.

He simply didn’t care if you were.

He didn't care if you had betrayed them. He didn't care if your innocent nature had truly been an act all along.

It was instinct to get you out of there. Not even for your own safety, but to insure Simon that no one could take you from him. If you remained a free agent, it was only a matter of time before they brought you in. After that, it was out of his hands. You were theres to hurt, to kill and he could do nothing to stop it. So what better way to insure that they can't take you other than taking you for himself?

He simply can’t have someone hurting his bird. So he sets the plan in motion.

Price intends on waiting for the order before executing the extraction plan. They wanted answers. How much did you tell Makarov? What did he know?

Simon was a step ahead. It was easy enough hiding in your garage, waiting for you to come home. The darkness of the night had aided him. You were blindly walking to the door connecting to your kitchen before you felt it. The gloved hand around your mouth and the sharp pinch in your neck.

When you wake up chained to a bed in a dark room, you knew you were as good as dead. They had taken you. This was it and you couldn't plead your case anymore than you already had. All your efforts in trying to prove your innocence were futile.

When Simon stepped in, still in his tactical gear your heart sank. He still had on his mask. Fully equipped. The knives on his side gleaming menacingly as the one light in your cell shined down on him. You swore that you would never betray him, the 141 or Laswell.

“Simon,” you begged already scurrying farther back toward the headboard, trying to create more distance. “I didn’t do it. I swear.” He didn’t stop his slow steps. Even as you began to cry. Even as you curled your body into a tight ball.

You sobbed as you pleaded for mercy, begging for your life. Your shaking violently as you felt him get on the bed. The frame creaking under his weight. You closed your eyes, turning your head away as you readied your self for the final blow to come. Wordlessly began unlocking the metal cuffs.

"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that now." He took your wrists in his hand before softly running his thumbs where the metal cuffs had left an imprint. “Couldn’t have you running off.” He explained, his tone... gentle. Speaking to you as if you were child. "That sedative can give you a pretty rough wake up call. Didn't need you hurtin' yourself. Needed to have a chat first.” He went on to explain you were in his home. Where he wouldn’t disclose. Only that you were safe.

You were safe.

You weren't going to be tortured.

You weren't going to be killed for something you didn't do. Your eyes filled with tears as you realized he was on your side. “You believe me.” You said, the tears resuming for a completely didn't reason. Relief flooded you and you had to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.

“No,” his correction made your heart drop into your stomach.

"But..." You press your back hard against the wooden headboard. There's no where else to go. Nowhere else to run. "You said I was safe." He sighed. Tears flowed down your cheeks as he put his hand gently where your neck and jaw me.

"You are safe." But, if he didn’t believe you... why were you here? “I don’t care if you did it. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. Then he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was talking more to himself than he was you. “Not going to let anything hurt you.”

It took you a moment to process it.

Simon had taken you... You were in his home and no one knew you were here. You didn't even know where exactly you were.

And Simon was touching you.

He was touching you. After years of working together, Simon was caressing your cheek. Showing such softness that it actually scared you. He took note of how he could feel your heart rate even through his glove.

"Why?"

“I’m protecting you.” He said, growing irritated that you weren't getting it. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?" He asked rhetorically, waiting rather patiently for you to be thanking him for saving you.

"Do..." Your head began to spin, trying to pull your mind away from all the possibilities on what could have happened. "Do I have to stay here?" You asked.

Simon was a patient man, but you beginning to test that patience. He let out a huff before pulling his hand away and placing it on your bare knee.

"Just until it all gets sorted." He lied, giving you a squeeze that he could only hope was reassuring. Even after they found the leak, you wouldn't be leaving him.

"Oh." You swallowed, nodding in understanding. "Okay." You let out a staggered breath trying to calm down. You were going to have to stay in this confined space, already feeling the claustrophobia creeping in as you felt the dark cement walls move in closer and closer. "Is there a bathroom I can use in here?" You asked, praying he wouldn't leave you with a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.

Simon laughed. He actually barked out a laugh, making you jump. "I meant you'll have to stay here with me." He clarified. "Not in the basement."

"Oh," the tenseness in your body seemed to ease up. "Good. It just feels..." you didn't finish. Too afraid to insult the man who quite literally held your life in his hands.

"No worries." he assured, finally taking his hand off of you to stand up. He held his palm out waiting for you to take his hand.

Without thinking twice, you did. Letting him help you stand even though your legs felt like they would give out at any minute. At the slight wobble of your knees, Simon took the liberty of scooping you up. A gasp escaping you.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Afraid that even though you had seen the man basically serve as a human battering-ram, you were afraid he would somehow drop you.

Simon's fingers ached to feel the softness of your thighs. He wanted to badly to come downstairs without his gear on. Bare himself to you. Reveal the face of the man behind the mask. Scars and all. He was worried that would have made it worse. Waking up in a basement, handcuffed to a bed with an unknown man aching to touch you.

He would show you his face soon enough. You would grow to love it. Each scar and imperfection on his face. His crooked nose and the touch of his calloused hands.

He planned to have you begging for it. To pepper kisses along his cheeks. Beg for his touch on your skin. Begging him to bury his fingers, his cock inside you. You would ache for him just as he had ached for you all this time.

You would fall as deeply as he had.

You would come to love your life with Simon.

No matter how long it took you to accept it.