#the movie is trying to be A Commentary on Our Times. but it is not saying what it thinks it's saying

[secondwhisper]

I saw Alien Romulus this weekend and I have some complaints.

[orionsangel86]

I watched X-Men 2000 tonight. Yup the Deadpool and Wolverine brain worms got me - at least for a little while - so I figured I'd rewatch the old movies that I havent seen in over a decade and have basically forgotten entirely at this point.

You know what really stunned me? Even more than the slow pace, serious tone, actual dedication to telling a coherent and interesting story with layers of meaning and social commentary attached to it, as well as a sincerity that's been missing from most superhero films since the MCU was born (thanks Josh Whedon).

Nope, what shocked me most was this:

This is a perfect specimen of a man. Look at him. He's gorgeous. But look at his chest? His arms? He's muscular, he's pretty well toned, he's hairy. He's definitely got a six pack - but it's nicely covered by a healthy layer of fat. His skin is plump, he has a bit of squish to him. He'd probably be great to hug (Jean Grey certainly gives him a good squeeze lol).

When he sits down he looks like his stomach will roll just nicely. Like a stomach should.

I know my point here is obvious. It's just that scrolling the Deadpool and Wolvering tag is basically 50% "oh they definitely fucked in the Honda Odyssey" (yes lol) and the other 50% is just horny posting over Wolverine's topless scene like the entire site suddenly adopted Deadpools horny brain.

I gotta give props to Hugh Jackman for his dedication to turn himself into an actual comic book character - because that's what this new movie does. It gives us a comic accurate Wolverine in practically every way (except for his height lol) the suit is amazing, the cowl was a joy to see brought into live action. The body too though was straight out of a comic book artists male power fantasy.

What I wanted to emphasise was that this:

Is extremely tough on the human body. What I wanna know is how long he starved and dehydrated himself for before filming this scene? How long before they shot this did he last drink some water? Because damn that must have been tough. The oil and the lighting probably help further emphasise the muscle, vein, and sinew definition. It's probably similar to how body builders prepare before a show.

Nothing about body building is healthy though. So in the coming weeks as the whole entertainment industry rides on the coat tales of this movies success, and everyone goes crazy over Hugh Jackmans physique, please don't feel pressured into thinking that his 2024 physique in the movie is remotely realistic - or realistically attractive. Like I get the fantasy sure, but come on. I'd personally rather lie on a cushioned bed than a concrete floor.

Deadpool may disagree with me, but he's a masochist lol.

Oh and whilst I stand by the shade I threw at the MCU above, I think Wolverine's different physiques in the movies is a good standard of comparison for how much superhero movies have changed. Because when superhero comics first started getting adapted I think a lot of the choices made were about how to bring them to live action realistically and believably and the attitude was to try not to make them look ridiculous. The first X-Men movies definitely do this.

It was about bringing the comics to life in a way that fit in our world. But over the years, as audiences got more and more used to comic book movies the movies became more and more like comic books and less like a realistic adaptation of a comic book. Does that make sense? So as the movies attempted to bring the comics to life in a way that was less realistic and more comic accurate, the demands on the actors to sculpt their physiques to meet the standards of comic book art became normalised.

I think Deadpool and Wolverine is the MOST comic book accurate of all superhero movies made in the past 2 decades. Half the time the images from the movie look like they could be literally pulled from the pages of the comic books. The story is convoluted and stupid, the plot is barely there and is full of gaping plot holes and elements that don't fit any past stories. The action is ridiculous, extremely fast paced, gratuitous, and violent to a hilarious level. But it's so entertaining, joyful, exciting, and laugh out loud hilarious throughout.

It reminded me a LOT of my attempts at reading through the Deadpool comics (I've read a lot of them but no where near all of them).

To sum up this rambling message with multiple points, I'll say that Deadpool and Wolverine is a really fun movie that I thoroughly enjoyed, but make no mistake there is nothing real in it at all. It is almost literally a comic on screen. Don't expect anything more than that and you'll enjoy the experience.

[fandom]

Memes

At a certain point, it was just hard to keep up. They seemed to fall from the sky like fizzing raindrops, soaking everything in pure wildness—memes, that is. 2022 had an absolute bumper crop of memes. The fertile field of this year’s chaos was sown freely, resulting in some impressively widespread phenomena. Most of it remained pretty contained within the dashboard, but at the end of the year the biggest meme of them all broke containment…We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. 

Cast your mind back to January 2022. We kicked off the year with Horse Plinko, which soon joined forces with Eeby Deeby in a frenzy of flaming gifs in which the poor horse plinko’d its way to Super Hell. Nothing has ever summed up the mildly deranged meme generation process on Tumblr so perfectly. 

This era of memes merged smoothly with the Month of Blorbo. Can you believe blorbo from my shows is more or less purely a 2022 phenomenon? Granted, the original post happened in late 2021, but it was the new year by the time “blorbo” secured itself in our vocabulary. How did we even live our lives on Tumblr without the word “blorbo”? It’s impossible to even imagine at this point. 

Springtime dawned with the rise of Live Slug Reaction, which dominated the dashboard as everyone rushed to plop that shocked slug in the corner of their favorite gay moments from TV and film. And in May came a very important event that would define the rest of the year on Tumblr: the launch of Dracula Daily, Affectionately dubbed “tumblr book club,” the serialized email newsletter found a hugely involved following on Tumblr and spawned an infinite variety of memes, beginning with the iconic paprika recipes. 

The Summer of Morbius dominated Tumblr from June onwards, with everyone going bonkers with Morb-based puns, jokes about the film’s most ridiculous moments, and reblogging a single GIF somehow containing the entire movie that would crash your browser when it played on your dash..

The i love you x i love you y text post meme saw us to the end of the summer, and autumn came with the rise of the GOUGER. Or is it GOUGAR? Regardless, the strange but harmless creature took over everyone’s meme palette for a while, getting involved in increasingly silly scenarios. 

This free-for-all was interrupted by the death of Queen Elizabeth, an event that was solemn everywhere else. . But on Tumblr, of course, users swamped the dashboard with Queen Liz-related memes and commentary. And crabs. There were quite a lot of those.

Later, in September, the Try Guys saga unfolding on Twitter and YouTube filtered over to Tumblr in the form of the “lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship” meme, with Tumblr users casting various favorite co-worker ships in the roles of the controversial real-life pairing. 

And finally, closing out the year, the meme you’ve all been waiting for: the one and only Goncharov (1973). Just in case you’ve been living under a rock, Goncharov is a movie borne out of the magic combination of a misprinted shoe label and Tumblr’s fertile imagination. Thanks to a fake movie poster by user @beelzeebub, which gave names and faces to the characters, Tumblr ran absolutely wild, churning out analysis, fanart, and even fanfiction at an astounding rate. This was by far the meme to win 2022: it gained coverage all over the internet, including the freaking New York Times, and even Scorsese himself acknowledged it. You did that, Tumblr. Goncharov forever, all hail the power of the Tumblr meme!

[steampunkforever]

I think it's time to gush about Monkey Man.

From a practical standpoint, you can't not talk about this movie without mentioning John Wick. Monkey Man itself understands this, going so far as to itself namedrop the Wick films in the beginning of the movie. Yet the movies are very different.

John Wick is in essence a modern neo noir, minimalist in everything but number of sequels it greenlights. It's slick, well executed, and responsible for resurrecting a genre that previously belonged to Vin Diesel's lower quality projects. It fully deserves its flowers, but ten years on it's time to raise our standards for a good action film. By all metrics, Monkey Man should be that movie.

Monkey Man is Joh Wick but grittier. It's action elevated. It's downright gorgeous. It's Dev Patel's directorial debut. It's a social commentary on inequality and fascism. It's Dev Parel Shirtless because he knows exactly what we want. It's the best release of the year as of the time of this writing. It's a movie you should go see.

Monkey man is a movie that asks "what if modern action movies had pathos?" It's gritty, the tale of a kid fighting his way up from the gutter to the penthouse (literally) in his quest for revenge against Hindu Fascist leadership. And it rips. Not since Mandy have I seen a revenge film so beautifully and profoundly depict violence. This is an altogether beautiful film and it never misses a chance to try and make things as beautiful as Mr. Patel himself.

An important note is that the film focuses heavily on Hindu Fascism, and was almost denied release on account of this. As of the writing of this filmpost it still has not been approved for release in India by the state censors, and that with significant edits already having been made to the movie for its general release. Even yet, it's a poignant sociopolitical critique of the Indian government and the intersection between religion and government oppression. Also Dev Patel bites a guys nose off.

Amazing film. Must see. Highly suggest seeing it as soon as possible. Do it for Dev.

[ktempestbradford]

A Story for Star Trek Day

I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).

The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.

(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)

Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!

When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).

Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.

I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)

Then... they announced Deep Space 9.

We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.

I'm still bitter.

I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.

I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3

I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.

I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:

Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...

And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.

We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.

Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.

And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.

...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.

That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!

His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA

And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.

I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. ❤️🖖🏾❤️

Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.

[fudgelling-away]

Dating Start!

The visual novel fan game.

I watched the gameplay on YouTube.

All possible choices...

The writing under the cut starts with exclamations of my distress, and ends with a coherent commentary on how experiencing such virtual scenarios can benefit the player.

I don't think there are spoilers... Other than the fact that you can go multiple ways through the game.

The genocide route plus the attempted pacifist route afterwards.

HORRIBLE.

OMG.

And when you try to do the pacifist route again? Did you see how it ends?

MY GOD, NO. No. no. no no no.

What a sickening turn of events. This is... Ugh, I am nauseaus even thinking back to it.

No. No.

Ewwww noooo what the f-

I have been upset for DAYS after watching it. And the pictures and the dialogue is still burned into my mind.

TERRIFYING.

DISGUSTING.

EVIL.

Congratulations to the creators - and I mean it.

That is... so well made. Just... perfect punch after punch after punch to your heart. The creators ripped me apart into pieces.

Great job - again, not ironically.

That is a very, very well made game.

They knew exactly what to do to make it as painful as possible. To get all tears out of the player and to traumatize them for some time.

It's not brutal or cruel in a mindless way, no. No, no. It's way more intelligent than that. It creates such a horrific scenario, paired with the horrific pictures, that I don't think I'll ever forget it. And I only saw a YouTube video.

In comparison to Dating Start!, the normal UT Sans fight is like a happy picnic in the park.

"But it's just a game, aren't you overreacting?", you could ask. Well, no. I am enjoying artwork like pictures, movies, games to get immersed into it and experience it all. If I keep my shield up and do not allow myself to feel what the characters are feeling... then what's the point?

What's the point of even approaching art if I refuse to feel any of it?

So Dating Start! is obviously a game, but if you imagine it being a reality, imagine yourself holding that knife, it gets so painful that I want to wail and scream my lungs out.

That being said, I appreciate artists who create these kinds of difficult works so much.

I believe we choose a variety of art for ourselves because we need different stimuli. If our life was 100% fluff, we'd drown in it and become numb.

So we consume angst, tragedies, horror and other unpleasant works.

We consider those scenarios.

We think of the possible choices.

We come to terms with our worldview, or challenge it.

We grow.

We process those real emotions and learn so many things about ourselves and problem solving.

We keep developing our sense of conscience.

--------

And, to sum up I will say something to make sure I am understood correctly:

Let people explore all sides of humanity within the safety of their fantasies.

It is NOT possible to judge a person by what they create and what art they enjoy. Human mind is not black and white.

Choosing to perceive it like that: "violent art = violent person" is INCREDIBLY IMMATURE. Ridiculously childlish and small-minded.

So I am absolutely NOT judging anyone who for one reason or another enjoys doing the genocide routes in games. I enjoy to be the "bad guy" in games as well.

No judgement from my side. That should be... obvious, but I think it's not, so I am making sure to include that in my post.

[hotvintagepoll]

If I can defend Knives Out as being actually not that boring of a pick: Maybe genre wise it’s referencing classic detective stories, but! There’s still things about it that would be fun to reimagine in a vintage setting

Casting is the big one; because for me it’s not just that the all star cast, it’s the mix of types of actors. A few younger actors who aren’t really household names; a few people who are currently enjoying a big wave of popularity/are in other really big projects; extremely well respected actors who most people know; and extremely well respected veteran actors who also aren’t necessarily household names. Like you cover pretty much the whole range with the film. So it presents a fun challenge of not only having to cast for character type, but seeing if you can’t match actor type, too.

And then there’s Blanc specifically- for me, it’s not just about picking someone who would be a fun classic PI character, but trying to find someone who matches Daniel Craig’s specific relationship to the character- is there an equivalent person who is just coming out of/about to come out of being a bit type cast in a somewhat serious, not all that emotive, action-star role who gets a chance through this to loosen up, have fun, and show they also have great comedic chops and character-work abilities?

The other big component for me is that Knives Out and Glass Onion both have some relevant social commentary/issue running as an undercurrent to the murder mystery. Both deal with issues of class, but then KO has Marta’s status as an undocumented immigrant be an important theme throughout, and GO has its take on an Elon Musk type (among other modern archetypes). So what specific contemporary issue(s) are we picking for vintage Knives Out? And how will that affect what our hypothetical movie’s plot and cast looks like?

this ask is making me weep because a movie with “a few younger actors [and] a few people who are currently enjoying a big wave of popularity/are in other really big projects; extremely well respected actors who most people know; and extremely well respected veteran actors who also aren’t necessarily household names” and a lead actor playing the detective who gets to “have fun, and show they also have great comedic chops and character-work abilities” already exists—Murder on the Orient Express from 1974 is one of my favorite movies ever and is apparently now required viewing for this blog. It’s got Lauren Bacall! Ingrid Bergman! Wendy Hiller! John Gielgud! Anthony Perkins! Michael York! Jacqueline Bisset! And Albert Finney eating the shit out of the scenery as Hercule Poirot. It is SUCH a good time and will hit so many of the Knives Out buttons for so many of you. (Admittedly it does not have the same style of social commentary as a Knives Out film, though just like in Christie’s novel it is crucial that the travelers on the train represent diverse intersections of class, and a major touchstone is how justice is meted out based on wealth, class, and who makes those choices.)

Anyway please watch Murder on the Orient Express (1974).

[ellephlox]

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 

Barefooted. 

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” you croaked. 

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 

Blood. In the mucus. 

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?” 

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

[starnervefan]

what does our best guy detective fear like to do for fun? owo

aw! Thank you for the question 🥺💜 Nobody ever asks me things about my AU gdfsfh 🥹😭 /pos

But anyways-

He probably plays a lot of chess and card games given the chance and a worthy opponent. He'd join tournaments, he's not exactly competitive but still likes the feeling of outsmarting his opponents. He reads a lot (horror and thrillers despite his overactive imagination, and… sometimes, trashy romance). He'll happily critique or pick apart trashy movies and admittedly, he's fond of cartoons and silent films.

Even though some "scary" movies amuse him more than scare him, he's interested in criminal psychology in an almost morbid way, keeping himself up late at night reading about horrific crimes.

Socializing heavily isn't really his thing, he's shy, easily overstimulated and keeps to himself. Contrasting with his partner Anger, who's always dragging Fear to noisy gatherings where there's a lot of booze, smoke and jazz music. It's ok though, Fear gets to drag Anger to the theater (where Anger will usually wind up falling asleep from the boredom, if Fear's commentary doesn't keep him awake).

Lately a certain thief lady is on Inspector Fear's mind and he spends an awful lot of time thinking about her and trying to find her, even and especially during his off-hours, though whether it's "fun" is up for debate.

[4ln-stay8]

Disney movie marathon

>summary: its a cold day and you and Lando have a disney movie marathon

>author’s note: I was watching some disney movies and I thought it would be a cute idea

>warnings: fluff, cute nicknames

It was a cold day today. You and Lando, your lovely boyfriend enjoyed the winter break in the comfort of your shared apartment. You missed him so much during all those times of the year when he was away and you just couldn't join him.

As the weather outside was perfect for a lazy day inside, cuddled in bed with a good movie playing, you thought about asking Lando to join you for a movie marathon.

"Babe, do you have plans today?" you softly asked your boyfriend

"Not really love, I was thinking of streaming a little today but I don't know, why you asking?" said Lando raising his eyes from his phone

"I was thinking, maybe you would like to join me for a Disney movie marathon?" You asked shyly

Lando grinned as he watched you. "A Disney marathon, seriously babe?" he chuckled, teasing you.

You shot him a playful glare. "What's wrong with reliving some childhood magic? Plus, Disney movies are timeless!"

Lando raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "How old are you again?"

You huffed, feigning annoyance. "Age is just a number, Lando. You're never too old for Disney magic."

He couldn't contain his laughter, prompting you to pout. "Fine, laugh all you want. You can go do something else if you don't want to join." You said leaving him alone in the living room.

Undeterred, you retreated to your bedroom, determined to start the marathon alone. As you scrolled through the movie options, Lando felt a pang of guilt. Realizing he might have hurt your feelings, he decided to make amends.

Entering the room with a tray of snacks and drinks, Lando wore a mischievous grin. "So, what are we watching first?"

You looked up, surprised. "You're joining?"

He nodded, handing you a bowl of popcorn. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, what's our first movie?"

"I was thinking about starting with The Beauty and the Beast." you said grinning at him and kissing his cheek.

"The Beauty and the Beast it is then" said Lando making himself comfortable, pulling you closer to him.

As the movie began, you couldn't resist the urge to sing along with the characters. Your voice, filled with passion and joy, echoed through the room, captivating Lando's attention. He sat there, stunned and amused, watching the animated expressions on your face as you belted out every lyric flawlessly.

Lando couldn't help but tease you, a playful grin forming on his face. "Well, aren't you the Disney maestro? Didn't know I was dating a singing sensation." he said trying to contain his laughter

You laughed, your eyes sparkling with delight. "What can I say? Disney songs are irresistible. Don't act like you're not secretly enjoying it." you said giving him a big smile

Lando winked, playfully nudging you. "Maybe a little. But you, my love, are stealing the show. I didn't know I signed up for a private concert."

Throughout the movie, you exchanged banter, sharing laughter and commentary on the characters and plot. You occasionally stole glances at Lando, reveling in the shared experience. As the credits rolled, you turned to him, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

"So, what did you think of my musical performance babe?" you asked, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

Lando chuckled, pulling you even closer. "I must admit love, it was quite the show. Maybe we should have a Disney karaoke night sometime."

You grinned, leaning in for a sweet kiss. "Deal. But only if you promise not to make fun of my singing too much."

As you cuddled on the bed, the room still filled with animated characters and nostalgic tunes you couldn't be more happier. Between movies, you shared stories of your favorite childhood memories and debated which Disney character you related to the most.

"Admit it babe, you're secretly a Disney fan," you teased, nudging Lando.

He smirked. "Maybe I am. Only because you make it look so much fun."

The marathon continued late into the night, with both of you immersed in the magic of Disney. Lando couldn't believe how much he was enjoying himself, realizing that age was indeed just a number when it came to reliving childhood joy with someone you cared about.

As the credits rolled on the final movie, you yawned, feeling a sense of contentment. Lando wrapped his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Thanks for showing me that Disney magic doesn't have an age limit."

You smiled sleepily. "Anytime, my love. Now, let's get some rest and dream of fairy tales."

“I don’t need to dream fairy tales, I’m already living in one with you!” he said softly giving you a kiss

“I love you so much!” you said kissing him again

“I love you more!” he said kissing your forehead

You got more comfortable in bed, holding each other tight, grateful for the shared laughter, snacks, and a newfound appreciation for the timeless enchantment of Disney movies.

Even if Lando disagreed at first you knew that he really enjoyed the movie marathon. Maybe he just enjoyed the time he spent with you and maybe he enjoyed the movies as well, but he definitely enjoyed the memories he made with you today.

[veryferaldistributions]

My Favorite Quotes from the “Bride of ReAnimator” Commentary (Not Included in the “Gay” Compilation):

Herbert: “Go. Home.”

Bruce: “Oh yeah, lot waiting for me there. How ‘bout that front room? Pet the dog! Find the finger eye puppet. Have some leftover spaghetti!”

Jeffrey: (about the Bride) “So she’s Meg. She’s Gloria-“

Bruce: “She’s the virgin-hooker with the twinkle toes.”

(Herbert and Francesca are barricading the lab door.)

Bruce: “Why is she helping you?”

Jeffrey: “Because she knows there are creatures out there (laughs) puking Cream of Wheat!”

Herbert: “You’re better off without her.”

Bruce: “Thanks for the advice, Dear Abby!”

(Herbert is talking about the feet of the ballet dancer.)

Bruce: “Y’know, Herbert’s parents made him take ballet for five years…”

(Over the course of the film commentary, they make several jokes about how Chapham is always seen with food.)

Herbert: (at Chapham) “What are you doing in here?”

Bruce: “Eating!”

(EDITED POST TO ADD MORE QUOTES/FIX ERRORS IN FIRST BATCH UPON REWATCH)

(Dan gets stabbed in Peru.)

Jeffrey: “Your kidney’s been lacerated, but you’ll be alright!”

Bruce: (sees his own name in the credits) “Who’s that?”

Bruce: “How did they get down there (Peru)?”

Jeffrey: (dryly) “By a plane, Bruce.”

Jeffrey: (singing to credits music) “Oh MEEEEG, my loooove, where did you goooo my deaaaar?”

(Movie cuts from Peru to Miskatonic.)

Bruce: “Oh yeah, like those two would be let back in the States!”

Bruce: “(Bride) is the ‘Frankenstein’ of the series. If the second is ‘Frankenstein,’ what’s the first?”

Jeffrey: “…Re-Animator.”

Bruce: “What is with my HAIR?”

Jeffrey: “Well, that was your choice!”

Dan: “Herbert, I have something to tell you.”

Bruce: “I’ve found a new hairdresser.”

Dr. Graves: “Who’d want to steal body parts?”

Jeffrey: “Ohhhhh, I think we knoooow.”

(Herbert is stealing Meg’s heart.)

Bruce: “Like Dan wouldn’t have enshrined that already.”

Herbert: (at Hill’s head in the morgue) “How did you get in here?”

Jeffrey: (mumbling) “…I hate this scene.”

(They both laugh at the puns anyway.)

Jeffrey: “Nice wheels, Dan.”

Bruce: “You bet. All in eight months. Got through customs. Now I’m driving a Dodge Swinger.”

Bruce: “I can’t get over my BeeGees haircut.”

Jeffrey: “Barry Gibb lives!”

(Later in the movie.)

Jeffrey: (singing) “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Stayin’ alive! Stayin’ alive!”

Bruce: “Of course this house has a basement.”

Jeffrey: “It was one of our requirements.”

Bruce: “One of your requirements.”

Jeffrey: “Well…”

Herbert: “Security.”

Dan: “From what?”

Herbert: …

Jeffrey: “From what?!”

Bruce: “Do I merit an answer?!”

(Herbert is showing Dan the reagent.)

Jeffrey: “DRINK IT! DRINK IT!”

Bruce: “Y’know, Herbert has this nasty habit of shoving things in Dan’s face. Iguanas, reagent, amniotic fluid-“

Jeffrey: “Dead cats.”

Dan: “I’m moving out!”

Jeffrey: “Why?”

Bruce: “Because, I like this heart patient in the hospital MUCH more than you!”

Jeffrey: (laughs) “What, you gonna move in with HER?”

Bruce: “No one will ever get rich overestimating Dan’s bad taste.”

(Herbert is trying to convince Dan to reanimate Chapham, next to the boiling pot.)

Bruce: “Sure…why not?”

Jeffrey: “Lemme have some tea first!”

(Cuts from the basement to Francesca, in Dan’s bed.)

Francesca: “Daniel?”

Bruce: “Why am I down there? WHY? What am I thinking about?”

Jeffrey: “You needed to get another prophylactic from the lab.”

Dan: “Herbert!”

Bruce: “I’d like to have a nickel for every time I’ve said ‘Herbert’ in these two movies.”

Dan: “It helps me to think of you as Meg.”

Bruce: “Betcha that makes her feel good. No wonder she dies!”

(Gloria flatlines.)

Jeffrey: “And that made her die.”

(Herbert and Dan are reanimating the Bride.)

Bruce: “Don’t try this at home.”

(Herbert puts on the gun holster.)

Bruce: “Wild, wild West. Herbie, get your gun.”

Herbert: “There is my creation!”

Jeffrey: “So put THAT in your pipe and smoke it!”

Bruce: (singing Rick Springfield) “I wish I was Herbie’s girl!”

(The Bride is trying to seduce Dan.)

Bruce: “Oh boy. I certainly wasn’t paid enough for this.”

Bride: (to Dan) “You made me?”

Herbert: “I made you!”

Jeffrey: “Yeah! Get that straight, babe!”

Dan: “You’re not Meg. Meg’s dead.”

Bruce: (flatly) “Wow. What a revelation. How edifying.”

Herbert: “Make a note of it, Dan! Tissue rejection!”

Bruce: “You write it down, ya little squirt! I’m tired of taking your notes!”

Dan: “You’re alive.”

(Falls to his knees.)

Jeffrey: “And I worship you!”

[corleonies]

Kay's abortion is what cemented her as a great character because even though maybe there was no intention behind it and the overwhelming male response to that scene is anger, it gives a female character agency for the first time in those movies and it's a great commentary on what it meant to be a woman in that context and time.

Everything leading up to that scene: Kay being frustrated with Michael not keeping up the promise of legitimizing the business, the shooting that put her and her kids in danger, (deleted scenes of Anthony trying to get close to mobsters his father received at home and Kay being distressed and taking him away), Michael concerned about the gender of a fetus when hearing his wife had a miscarriage because what is a baby girl worth in this world?, not talking to his wife when arriving home, taking her to court with him expecting her to be dumb or submissive enough to not care about how things went and what happened behind the scenes.

Then, the abortion scene when she tells him she got a SON killed because she would not put more children into the world to be turned into monsters. "Look what happened to our son" because that's what is meant to happen to boys in that world. Girls are expandable and boys are conditioned.

Kay was right. Kay got herself out and gave her children a real childhood, real chances to be something they wanted, away from the horrors of the life their father lived in. Kay saved herself and her children, but Michael pulls them back into danger anyway because that's the life.

He says he was a lot like Anthony, because once he wanted nothing to do with the family business. In a way, Mary was a lot like her mother too, because she remains close to that world out of love. But Michael never gets away like Tony did, Mary never leaves like Kay.

Mary takes a bullet meant for her father. She pays for her father's sins. What is a baby girl worth in this world?

[gffa]

Ahsoka's place in SW can be a complicated thing, because I feel both things about her--I too am often frustrated by how Filoni writes her, but I too am also grateful that her character exists and isn't the "default" straight white cis dude character. (Though, I do wish she were played by someone other than RD because of All That.)

Ahsoka got so much flak when she first appeared, people hated her just for existing, for daring to take up any space in the Star Wars story, and then she swung around to being nearly put on a pedestal by a large chunk of the fandom, she was lionized pretty heavily in some corners, and I think we're now going through the further growing pains of backlash against the hype, especially because Ahsoka is in the position of often being used as a bludgeon against the Jedi.

To be honest, I don't see nearly as much criticism of Ahsoka's character as I do for other popular characters, I see far more of Obi-Wan and Anakin and Yoda, but maybe that's just the sphere of experience I have, but I see that criticism balanced out with a ton of fic, art, and positive commentary about her. And it makes me wonder if she's in that awkward spot of not quite as central to the story as the movie characters, but more important than almost any other SW character (in the sense of any one character ever being able to be more "important" than another, you know what I mean) where we haven't quite settled into a stable balance of how to approach her character.

So, she's high level enough now that she can take some people being critical of her character or even just flat-out not being kind to her, because she has so much support from the story itself and from all across the fandom, even as honestly I haven't seen much that's been notably mean to her character. Sure, I see a few posts talking about how Ahsoka is Filoni's Blorbo, but are they truly more common than the posts that are celebrating her character? Genuinely wondering, because that hasn't been my experience. (Honestly, I would say Qui-Gon fans have it worse, given that he's another of Filoni's Blorbos, just without the added bonus of actually having anything fun to counter balance it, where even the people who say he was a True Jedi don't really care about Qui-Gon, you know? There's no skits, no commentary, etc. Just a handful of fic authors who are quietly doing their own thing and being the good in the world they want to see.)

At the same time, I get what you're feeling, that it feels uncomfortable to be critical of a female character, especially one who is played by a WOC, especially in a fandom that is pretty fucking vicious towards female characters having anything to actually do in the story. That the criticism of Ahsoka's character/status as Filoni's Blorbo isn't always fair or considerate, because people are frustrated and SW fandom wears all our nerves down to the last.

I'm not really sure where I land with all of this, because I get both sides, the frustration and the affection both, and I think there needs to be space for both in fandom just because we can't police other people's reactions to stuff. It's hard to continue liking her when she's being pitted against your faves, it's hard to be kind to Jedi fans when they're frustrated because she's being used as a bludgeon against their faves, it's hard to just walk away from people ignoring that Ahsoka is really meaningful to a lot of people because she's a non-romance-focused female character coded as/played by a woman of color, it's hard not to feel like Ahsoka's such a popular character that she can take a few people on tumblr not liking her.

My best advice is to just keep loving Ahsoka in the way that you think will attract the other friends you want to have around you--like, for me, when I talk about Anakin, I often try to do so in a way that's affectionate towards him and the Jedi, how much they loved him and how much I think he loved them in returned, because that's who I want to gravitate towards in fandom, those who like both. I try to do the same with Qui-Gon now and again, when I start getting frustrated by how he's used to bludgeon the Jedi, I start going HEY GUESS WHAT I'M EMOTIONS ABOUT HOW MUCH QUI-GON LOVED HIS JEDI FAMILY and it makes me feel better! I would love to see more people do the same with Ahsoka! Prop her up by appealing to how much she loves other characters, too! Like, every time I get frustrated at the way some of fandom treats her, I remember SHE WANTED TO GO BACK TO THE JEDI, SHE LOVED THEM, and I'm like THAT IS MY GIRL I LOVE HER SO MUCH SHE IS SO BRAVE TO STRUGGLE THROUGH ALL THIS AND STILL FIND THE LOVE IN HER HEART.

Or sometimes, like with Bo-Katan, I like to lean into them being a hot mess because yessssssss I love a hot mess of a lady because I am a hot mess of a lady and Felt That. I hope Ahsoka gets to be all kinds of deliciously fucked up in her series and making mistakes and learning and being interesting and working her way back to the surface from her own depths because she is SUCH a strong character and deserves to be crunchy as hell/have bite as a character, like HOW MANY YEARS did she stew in her guilt about Anakin, refusing to let it go? How long did she hold onto that fear, so much that even the Force had to smack her in the face to try to make her let it go on Lothal? GIRL, I AM CRYING FOR YOU, YOU HAVE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH, LET ME GET YOU SOME SOUP AND I HOPE THE FORCE-GHOSTS ALL COME BOTHER YOU TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE EATING ENOUGH, because I love a character that has bite.

This kind of got away from me, but that's usually where I end up when trying to wrap my head around the frustration of a character's place in fandom. I get why people are frustrated with the way Filoni writes her, but also the frustration of feeling like the important representation of her character sometimes gets lost in the shuffle, that both sides have validity, and my best way out of this is to double down on loving everyone in this bar.

[whatthefishh]

Mona tell me more about how happy Steven is to just have us at his apartment before he breeds us into infinity? Like just the week before the events in Cherry Pie we were making out on the couch and we had to go to the bathroom to take care of things cause he’s just not going there with us yet. How happy is our boy just sitting there? I simply can’t get it out of my brain.

🙂

^his face before fucking you silly. NSFW under the cut.

He’s rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants as he sits up on the couch, running a hand through his hair since it’s all tousled and messy from where your fingers were threaded.

You had come over after a casual lunch, planning on watching some silly movie you had read about that you thought would be fun. Movies with Steven were always fun, his witty commentary having you keeling over in laughter sometimes you’d miss the next scene. He always looked at you in wonder when he was able to make you laugh out loud like that, satisfied with himself, chest swelling with pride.

Cuddles quickly turned into soft smooches, which quickly turned into you turning in his arms and pressing yourself to him, which THEN turned into heavy touches and you basically in his lap and tongue in his mouth. Your hands were in his hair, twisting his curls around your fingers as you moved his head to angle yourself better, ravaging his mouth the way you wanted to ravage the man himself.

Pulling apart for air, he whimpered, hips unconsciously bucking up into you and you had to close your eyes because you were so sure that seeing Steven so kiss drunk would surely make you lose your shit right then and there. And then he’d know.

He’d know how bad you wanted him, how depraved your thoughts were about him, how you dreamt of peeling him apart, layer by layer, and kissing every inch of skin you exposed. He’d be privy to the filthy images your mind would come up with after your evenings spent together, alone in your bed as you tried to imagine his hands or mouth on you. He would know how bad it really was for you and you didn’t want to scare him off.

It was Steven. He wanted to take things slow, he had said so himself. He had the right to as well, his lack of experience and years of loneliness causing your relationship to be such a drastic change for him, let alone the physical aspect. It didn’t stop you from dreaming though. Didn’t stop you from fingering yourself not once, not twice, but three times just to ease the ache.

Easing yourself off his lap, you smoothed your skirt out and took a steadying breath, took one last look at him, before spinning on your heel and marching to his apartment’s dingy little bathroom to reset.

Reset meaning shoving a hand towel over your mouth to muffle your noises and the other down your panties to do something about the second heartbeat you developed sometime between the end credits and trying to ride your boyfriend’s thigh.

God, you were soaked. He didn’t even know the effect he had on you, did he? He was all smiles, all doe eyed as you etched his dopey face - make-out hair, dilated pupils and swollen lips - to memory, hands on his thighs and head tilted up towards you like the light of his life.

No. No, you don’t think he knows.

Steven’s ignorance to your current state almost made you feel guilty but you were too worked up to care that you were literally fingering yourself in his bathroom just to be able to act semi-normal around him.

Almost there.

An image of Steven licking into your mouth ferociously, his hand on your waist pulling you closer.

Just a little bit more, touch your clit, just like that.

Another image of Steven watching your face as his thumb finds your clit, eyes lighting up as your mouth drops open on a whine.

Oh, no, you had to be quiet. You were taking too long. Fuck, hurry up.

“Come, love, I want to see, show me how you look when you come,” phantom Steven says to you.

Gasping into the towel, you gush around your digits, relief and ecstasy rushing your veins at the same time.

[that-lazy-snail]

Being a fan of Avatar (the movie with blue people) is literally the most exhausting fan experience I've ever had, and I'm a female Star Wars fan, who's favorite Star Wars movie is The Last Jedi.

I'm by no means claiming that the movie is flawless or even "great" but it is by scifi blockbuster standards pretty good. It's no more or less racist than the Star Wars prequels and the writing isn't any worse than the scriptwriting in the Star Wars prequels either, yet it's treated with such disdain among people on the internet that I can't even talk about it without receiving random hateful comments.

I cosplay from the movie, more specifically the new movie and an OC that I designed in 2018. I love the movie, especially the visual elements and the design of the Na'vi and their culture, I think it's a fascinating metaphor for our treatment of indigenous peoples and our planet, I love the themes the film presents. But I'm also aware that it's harmful to indigenous people as well because it promotes a white savior narrative, that it's harmful to disabled people by promoting the narrative that they can't live full lives unless they're normative. I don't deny those problems with the movie, and I have plenty of criticisms of the new film as well. Particularly the use of locks on Jake and Spider, and I saw a video on tiktok complaining about that and I left a comment saying that I really wish they hadn't done that and I thought it was a really poor styling choice since up until that point none of the Na'vi we'd seen have locks so it doesn't logically make sense to give them that hair style. I got quite a bit of response to that comment, some people agreeing with me but largely people were saying, "why do you cosplay it then?" "why do you support it then?" like is it not okay to like things and also have criticism for them? I'm allowed to like things about it and also not like things about it.

I also keep seeing videos saying that Avatar has no cultural impact, that it doesn't have a long lasting fan base despite having lore comparable to Lord of the Rings. Here's the thing with that, it totally does have lore comparable to Lord of the Rings but the fan base can't thrive like LOTR fans or even Star Trek could partially because the internet wasn't a space in the same way then as it was when Avatar came out and the other fact is the sheer amount of shaming and harassment that Avatar fans get. I've seen people leave the fandom because of the hate they received on the internet. They quite literally get bullied out of their enjoyment of the movie. People say that Avatar has no fans, but it's fans are chronically silent and reclusive in our liking of the film for fear of getting harassed. I am part of Facebook groups of that have thousands of members and a very active discord. Avatar fans exist, they just keep low and quiet so as to protect themselves. I know people who speak Na'vi in the same way people speak elvish or klingon, it's just not something we advertise because every time we try to share our enjoyment of the movie we get mean comments or mocking stitches/remixes of our videos, pictures, etc. It's not fun to be a public Avatar fan, it's scary and exhausting.

I love Avatar, Neytiri was one of the first truly strong and inspirational female characters I connected with as a child (I was 9 when the movie came out) and I was fascinated and enthralled with the world of Pandora, as were so many movie goers. I'm so tired of getting railed on for enjoying this movie, or even just the constant ridicule that comes through my feed about it. What happened to the golden rule of if you don't have anything nice to say (or on this case even anything that provides new/valuable commentary/criticism) don't say anything at all?

I'm so sick of hearing the same arguments I've heard a million times about why it's a retread plot of Pocahontas/Dances With Wolves/Ferngully, I've heard it all before, I've seen those movies before and their plots are in myths and any number of other stories, that's not why I love the movie. No amount of people saying that to me will change what I do like about the Avatar. I don't watch Avatar for the plot, I watch it for Pandora, and for the visual spectacle and the world building.

I'm sick of the argument that Avatar's treatment of indigenous voices is somehow worse than any other piece of media written by and for white communities, it's not. Even Avatar the Last Airbender (which is my favorite TV show of all time and is often acclaimed as a great example of native representation) also falls failure to the same mistake of casting white actors in POC roles and changing the narratives of natives to be more easily accepted and understood by white audiences. This is not to say that ATLA doesn't handle its message better than Avatar, but it's important to be aware of the ways in which all media has flaws, even the things we think are less problematic and it's important to acknowledge them and not tear the media down for it, but use it as means to make new media better. Cameron did improve with the Way of Water, he frequently consulted with the Maori tribes he was pulling inspiration from, there's literally articles written by Maori tribe members on it but it is still a white people movie, written by white people for white people so do with that what you will. But don't claim star wars is any better, the prequels were outrageously racist, and they still maintain majority white casts.

The new Avatar movie (the way of water) is not perfect, there are quite a few things I found to be poor choices in regards to cultural sensitivity (aka locks, and casting Kate Winslet as Ronal instead of a Polynesian actress) but it's still better than it's predecessor, and unlike so many people on the internet say, it is not "a bunch of white people playing poc" since neither Zoe Saldana, nor Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, or any of the Metkayina children or Cliff Curtis are white. In fact, Cliff Curtis is Maori, the culture that inspired the Metkayina and many of the extras who play background Na'vi in the films are POC, because in spite of James Cameron's failings, he did want the Na'vi to be played by people of color. Very very few of the Na'vi in the original movie are played by white people, only a few extras with less than 1 minute of screen time and no lines. All the major Na'vi roles were played by people of black and indigenous color. Eytukan was played by a Cherokee native, Mo'at (these people are the two clan leaders) is played by a indigenous woman from Africa and is very black. Zoe Saldana's parents are Dominican and Puerto Rican for god's sake! She is not white. This argument that he casts white people in POC roles is untrue. The Avatars are white cause they're meant to represent the invadors, wolf in sheep's clothing if you will. The Na'vi are bipoc, and they're played by bipoc.

After Avatar, James went to Brazil and became and activist for native communities. He went worked with Brazilian natives fighting the building of a dam over their local river, a dam with would power a major city in Brazil, but destroy the indigenous peoples access to water. He went to their community, and asked them what he could do to help. He donated money, protested, ran conferences and tried to disrupt the building of the dam using his influence, but it failed, and he had to watch the suffering of this indigenous tribe that he'd grown very close to in their time working together to prevent the dam. He's not Anti-indigenous as people love to claim, he's clumsy and arrogant (like all cis white men) but what he does is an attempt to elevate native voices not smother them even if he doesn't necessarily succeed.

The movie isn't the menace to society people portray it as, nor is it as boring or uncompelling as people claim. But I still can't go online to enjoy it because no matter what I say, I like it too much for "a bad movie" or I'm "too supportive of something harmful" although I still see people buying Harry Potter merchandise in the Barnes and Noble and I'd argue JK Rowling is an actively bigoted individual who's words and paychecks actively harm marginalized communities, unlike Cameron who despite his bumbling is trying his best and actually learning and doing better with the new content he puts out.

People also say things like, "You only like it cause you're white, no POC people like Avatar." which is blatantly untrue, I've seen native people who like it, black people who like it, I have black friends who like it, I know a black cosplayer who cosplays from it. In fact, I know more poc who cosplay from it than white people. Everyone is entitled to their opinion of the film, and should be allowed to interact with it without getting harassed. It's just exhausting to like it, so people don't say they do.

I'm tired of even the things that should be praised about the new film being used as a way to tear it down. Cameron said in an interview that he "likes Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman as characters but they're not mom's" when asked why he chose to make Neytiri a mother. Neytiri's motherhood doesn't detract from her warrior-ness, she's still a badass bitch and I think that's the point that this person on tiktok clearly missed. He wasn't saying you need women to be moms to be heros, but how many warrior women who are also mothers can you think of off the top of your head? I can't think of any. The choice to make Neytiri a badass mom wasn't to detract from single or childless female characters but to provide even more diversity in the kinds of strong female characters out there. I loved that 1/2 the cast of that movie was women, just as I loved Neytiri in the first film.

In conclusion, can we please stop making Avatar fans lives hell on the internet. I do my own research about how it is and isn't problematic and make my own decisions, I don't need strangers to yell at me. I just want to enjoy my silly ecoscifi movie about blue aliens. I'm aware of its issues and I do my best to raise awareness of the issues facing real natives, to engage with real native stories and voices and support their protests, legal persuits, tribal sovereignty, land back etc, and be the best ally I can be, but I'm not going to boycot this movie because it does some problematic stuff, or because it has an unoriginal plot, if I did that I could never watch another marvel movie again (and yes they're just as bad if you dig, look at the early ones especially) I'm so sick of the insane amount of factually unsupported hate this movie gets and of having to deal with it. I'm tired, I just want to enjoy my movie which is no worse than any other white backed and driven Hollywood blockbuster.

[thecrazygamingzombie]

What happened to the suspension of disbelief?

Why are people so obsessed with ‘outsmarting’ movies and tv shows? Clawing it over for any inconsistency and plot hole like they’re trying to find flaws in a factory produced cloth?

(I blame cinemasins for popularizing that sort of critique, but I digress.)

So what if time travel is filled with paradoxes no matter which way you slice it? So what if you can’t clone dinosaurs back from the dead? So what if superheros violate every law of physics in the book?

SO WHAT?

The point of fiction is to escape from reality, not to be reminded of it. A place where lone soldiers can singlehandedly take down evil organizations, humans travel across the stars and get freaky with aliens, where magic becomes less sleight of hand and more reality warping.

The point of fiction is to pretend that it could all be real. To act like we’re witnesses to the world story tellers have painstakingly crafted for us; feeling joy, sadness, fear, or even arousal depending on how the tale is going.

IT’S NOT ABOUT WINNING SOME IMAGINARY PRIZE BY PROVING YOU’RE SMARTER THAN THE STORYTELLER

Fiction is supposed to be an experience, not a competition. We’re supposed to savor the character beats and themes, not slap them down on a dissection table like a science project. It’s good to want to analyze a film’s inner workings but trying to nitpick every flaw just defeats the purpose of creating it in the first place.

And this line of thinking has damaged modern media so much! It’s why meta humor has become so prominent in recent times, because storytellers are so scared of all the snobbish critics ripping them a new one that they feel that they have to beat them to the punch and provide their own commentary so they can’t be called out on it! And we see how badly that goes when a show is comprised of nothing BUT subversive meta humor

*cough* Mindy kaling Velma *cough*

Is it so hard to just let go of realism, turn off our brains for a bit, and just enjoy giant robots beating the crap out of each other without worrying about the energy requirements needed to make a functioning monster fighting mech?

Tl;DR fiction’s biggest strength is escapism. Why are we trying to undermine it by ridding ourselves of suspension of disbelief?