#they´re faring a bit better

[thegamingcatmom]

Eleazar Denali is a bean, but...

Eleazar is the lovable nerd who would, without a single doubt, study every inch of You if Tanya would let him. Over her undead body.

You´re crying over something and he´ll take a look at those salty tears before catching one on the tip of his finger, and he´ll go like-

"Huh, how very...fascinating."

(We´re still working on the tactfulness thing. He hasn´t gotten the hang of it quite yet...)

I mean, he´s trying. In his own way.

...IT´S BEEN A WHILE, AIGHT?? The poor thing´s not used to having a human around. Not a living one, at least.

He´ll learn...eventually.

Perhaps.

I mean, he´s got Carmen with him. Just look at her going like-

"It´s alright my love, you got this!"

...Only, she´s just as terrible when it comes to humaning. 🥲

(The effort´s very much there, however. It´s entirely charming.)

Good luck. You´ll need it.

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

CINNAMON SWEET

STEVE HARRINGTON X F!READER

A cute little diner, friends that secretly conspire to give you and Steve the push you both need, and a planned breakfast that suddenly feels a lot more like a date - not that either of you are complaining. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

Realistically, Steve should have known there was something going on when everyone, except you and him, suddenly couldn't make it to the breakfast that they'd all planned. 

But he hadn't really thought much of it when Max said she was teaching El how to skate or when Eddie and the rest of the kids said there was important Hellfire stuff that needed doing. 

Robin had picked up an extra shift at work and when Steve had shot her a briefly suspicious look, she had simply smirked and said something about how she needed to stop being broke and finally get a licence. Because it's not like he could drive her around forever and ‘I can't be third wheeling when you finally get a girl willing to put up with you Harrington.’

And maybe he would have put it together if he hadn't been so god damn nervous.

If there weren't butterflies in his stomach right up until he pulled up in front of your house and if his brain didn't stutter every time he thought of how it was just going to be you and him. 

He didn't fare any better when you stepped outside, the same startling grin on your face when your eyes found his that had stolen his heart the very first time he'd seen it.

There was a softness to how you were dressed that made him ache, all chunky-knit sweaters and pretty-coloured beanies, the scarf that Steve had given to you last year when you took the kids ice-skating and later you'd teasingly informed him he would never get back. 

He couldn't help but hope that he never would if it meant he kept getting to see you walk around in something of his. The feeling he got in his chest when you would catch his eyes on it - smile half hidden beneath the dark wool, hopelessly shy, and your own gaze tinged warm. 

It was one that lingered as you climbed into the car, a gust of cold wind entering with you that stirred at Steve's hair and blew the scent of spiced apple and vanilla from your body wash all around him, hands tightening around the steering wheel and teeth clamped because he was sure he would blurt out something stupid when he realised how the smell instantly brought him comfort. 

"Hey." You murmured from beside him, voice soft, still a little thick from sleep like you hadn't fully woken up yet and Steve was pretty sure he felt something in his chest melt at the sound. "Is it just us?" 

"Hey, sweetheart." He hummed without thinking, the pet name slipping too easily past his lips like it had always held a place on his tongue when he spoke about you, and he was too preoccupied with watching the road to be aware of the way you flushed in response. "Looks like it, apparently everyone else has plans that couldn't wait. S'that okay?" 

And it's not that he necessarily thought you would have a problem with it but he wanted to make sure anyway. Because you and Steve had never really done anything like this before, there was always other people around - the kids or Robin and Eddie, or any time you had spent alone together was either spent entertaining each other at work or in an alternative dimension, fighting for your lives. 

This, right here and now, felt different and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to be there if you didn't want to be. 

But then, to the boy's delight, you turned your head to grin at him, soft and warm, eyes bright. Looking every bit like you had always belonged in the passenger seat of his car, right beside him, just like this. "That's fine Steve." You told him. "It's their loss." 

**

The drive to the diner that Steve had chosen, a little bit out of the way instead of sticking to the one in town, was simultaneously never-ending and not long enough. 

An easy conversation flowed between you both. The nerves that had fluttered in your belly at the realisation it would just be the two of you slowly fading as you listened to Steve sing along to the music under his breath, only for them to then reappear with a vengeance when his hand occasionally brushed against your knee as he shifted gears. 

Each time he would withdraw his hand, cheeks tinged a soft pink, his apology a little choked sounding as he coughed to clear his throat. 

You had to pretend that the fleeting touch didn't burn you each time, that you didn't wish you could catch his fingers with yours and pull his hand back to rest on your knee instead of telling him ‘don't worry about it.’

And by the time you were unbuckling your seatbelt, nearly tumbling out of the door in your need for fresh air, there was a heady kind of tension between you. A sweet ache that made you feel permanently too warm, too giddy each time soft, brown eyes landed on yours and he smiled that same devastating smile that had labeled you a goner from the moment you had met him.

He waited for you to join him around the front of the car before he motioned towards the place with a little ta-da, his expression adorably pleased when you gave a delighted laugh before your gaze flickered to the quaint, little building, intrigued.

It didn't look like much at first glance but there was charm in its simplicity, all the decorations that they'd lovingly put in place for the season and the upcoming holiday making it feel homely and your heart undeniably happy. 

"How did you hear about this place?" You asked curiously whilst walking to the door. 

There was barely any space between you and every now and again you accidentally bumped arms or your fingers brushed, almost catching, so close to holding, but never quite. And unlike in the car, this time there was no quickly pulling away, no muttering of an apology, instead you both allowed it to happen like you were waiting to see if the other would pull away or if they'd be the one brave enough to move closer. 

But neither of you did and Steve quickly pulled you away from thoughts of if you should when he answered,

"Joyce told me. Said she used to bring Jonathan and Will here all the time because Will was convinced they did the best cinnamon waffles and hot chocolate." He grinned softly, eyes golden in the light of the sun and his expression briefly hesitant when he drew his lip between his teeth before adding. "It uh, it made me think of you."

"I remind you of waffles and hot chocolate? Is it because I'm just so sweet?" You joked. 

He shook his head with a huffed laugh, a rogue strand of hair falling into his eyes that you ached to brush away. "I wouldn't say that, well maybe, I guess?" He contradicted himself, cheeks a little flushed as he caught your amused stare, the pretty twinkle in your eyes that grew the more the boy spoke. "You mentioned that cinnamon waffles and hot chocolate was your favourite thing to have for breakfast that time we were at Robin's and– wait - shit - did I remember wrong?" 

You were stunned - a little too much so that you couldn't answer him for a moment, simply blinking at him as Steve's face grew worried. 

He brought you back with a hushed murmur of your name and you were suddenly fighting to breathe against the golden warmth flooding through your chest. 

"No, no, no, that's right." You assured him, a steadily beaming smile creeping across your face and Steve practically lit up with relief. "I just can't believe you remembered."

He snorted a little as he reached for the door and swung it open, a strong arm catching around your waist and pulling you into him to create a clear path for the elderly couple who were on their way out. 

"I remember a lot of things about you, probably more than I should." His voice was softer than you'd ever heard it and if the boy heard or even felt the way your breath hitched then he didn't say anything. Simply smiling proud and wide as the old couple thanked you, the lady cooing about 'what a cute couple you were and such lovely manners too.'

And when you finally dared to chance a look up at him he was already watching you. The tension from the car ride returning, something electric brewing in the small space between you that apparently made the boy feel bolder.  

"I did forget something today though." He mumbled, gaze a little warmer, a little flirtier, fixed on yours as he lifted his hand to tug high at your scarf, a light touch that caused his hand to barely graze the edge of your jaw and jesus christ, you couldn't fucking breathe. "Should have told you how pretty you look the moment you stepped foot in my car." 

You hadn't even realised your hands had made their way to his chest, fingers caught gently in his jacket from when you had swayed into him. But his breath was warm on your face and his nose was bumping yours and you swore there was a question in those pretty, honey eyes as they flicked from yours to your lips and slowly back. 

"I think I could maybe forgive you for taking this long." You whispered and he grinned, sticky-sweet and lovesick. 

"Yeah?" 

It was a question that you so badly wanted to answer by tilting your chin and pressing your lips to his. You wanted nothing more than to push yourself further into him, ached to feel him wrap himself around you, arms tight and mouth warm and giving under yours. 

But just as his lips brushed yours, the faintest echo of a touch, and you heard the boy's breath hitch, there was a crash from inside.

The sound of a plate shattering and cutlery hitting hardwood loud enough that the two of you jumped and stumbled apart with wide eyes. Gazes a little shy now the bubble you'd found yourselves in had been popped, allowing the world to rush around you once again. 

For a few moments you both just stood there, you nervously chewing at your lip as Steve ran a hand through his hair, musing it further than the wind had already. But then you caught the boy's eye and the laughter that bubbled out from you both sounded quiet and breathless, but real.

Happy.

And you could hardly bite back the smile when he tilted his head towards the inside of the diner and grinned. 

"After you, sweetheart." 

[tmwcs]

heethans reaction if h/n posted revealing bikini pics with y/n on insta???

Warnings: yandere theme, slight bit of non-con turned dub con implied, choking, use of force, punishments, fingering, cursing, pet names, think that’s it.

A long day of classes. The weekend was too short as the first day of the week already drained you. How you wish tomorrow was Friday already.

“Hey y/n.”

A calm voice catches your attention up head and you recognize that deep tone and accent. “Oh, hey Jake.”

He smiles someehat mischievously as he walks in your direction. “What’s up?” You nervously smile as you route up your question. The expression on his face told you of his awareness in something that you felt as if you should know of.

“Nooooothing. Like your picture on IG. Maybe you can tell H/N where you got that swimsuit.” He speaks and stares down, but never pauses in his steps. He continues to walk past, unlike yourself, where you were caught off-guard by his words and stood still for a moment trying to figure if the slight bit of sarcasm was intentional.

You head out to meet with Heeseung at the curb, as usual. There he stood, leaning backs against the front passenger door with his arms crossed, his head angled at a downward tilt, allowing for his cap to cover his features. Some things will never change.

“Hey babe…I had a weird conversation with Jake just now—“ your mind snaps into a blank slate as you try to process the sudden jolt of movement that gripped you by the neck. Twirling you around, you found yourself being the one leaned up on the car, while being forced to fare directly into his eyes. His plush lips make contact with yours as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip before breaking in and coating your entire mouth. “Bad girl.” He growls against youc barely breaking the kiss and allowing for you to catch a breath.

“W-what? I—“

“You what?” His voice antagonizes your unfinished sentence as he squeezes your throat. You let out a small gasp for air as you reach up, desperately trying to feed your fingers in between his in an attempt to loosen them. “H-Heeseung…”

“Can’t breathe baby?” Once again his words come off laconically. He propels a look of playful malice as he lets out a scoff through that wicked smirk. Kissing you once again, his tongue movements are much more aggressive. He finally releases the tightness of his hold, yet still has his palm wrapped around you. With your body being re-introduced to oxygen, your caught offguard when his free hand shoot’s down your jeans and feeds itself through your panties. He does not leave you any room to configure what was going on as he plunges his fingers inside you. “Time to feed Ethan.”

His dark expression turns murderous as you witness the switch on his personality. Unsure of what brought on this animalistic behavior, you beg him to give closure.

“W-what did I do wrong?”

He scoffs as he continues to violate you in the open parking lot, completely aware that no one was around to witness his volition, although you knew better than to figure that it wouldn’t have changed anything had there been eye witnesses present.

Biting down on your neck, he darkly chuckles against your skin, pinching it against his teeth. Taking his hand out from your jeans, he fishes it inside your satchel and pulls out your phone. Presenting it to your face, he lightly taps the screen against your collarbone. “No more social media for you.”

Leaning forward, he presses his nose in and rests his forehead against yours. “You just had to go and show off what’s mine. You trying to make me angry?” The smirk on his face flares sarcasm as you see past the smile and see nothing but anger. The way he grits his teeth was enough to nearly make you urinate your own jeans. “I—that wasn’t mean to—“

He cuts you off once more as he shoves you in the backseat. Nearly flinging you in, he straddles on top, restraining every bit of your movements. Pinching your chin, he forces you to face forward. “Don’t move.” He issues.

You knew better than to disobey. He was already mad, and considering he was Ethan now, doing anything more against his demands would only cause you pain. He’d make you pay for it all.

You felt him tighten his belt around your head, enforcing you to clamp down on it with your teeth. Oh no…

“Bite down, darling.” He says as he props himself on his knees, groin pressed against your buttocks as he stations your legs to rest around his waist. Undoing his jeans right before you, he smirks deviously. “Better the belt, than your own tongue, in which case I’ll bite it for you.”

Your eyes grow extremely teary as you brace for what is about to come. He smoothly pulls your jeans off, along with your panties. Rubbing the nub of your clot with his thumb, he fishes out his lengthy member and pulls his own jeans down just enough, until the waistband rests against his upper thighs. Slapping the tip against your swollen lips, he aims the head of his cock to hit your clit dead center. You whimper and jolt, all to his pleasure. “Let’s have some fun, hmm? I know i will.”

His words stamp your ears as you feel the sting of his swollen head pushing in. Without any four play, you weren’t exactly prepared to take in his member so suddenly. Your body hadn’t had the chance to lube up.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll be wet here in a sec. And you don’t have to be in a bathing suit to enjoy riding the waves this time. Ethan’s got you.”

[stromuprisahat]

Alina running an orphanage with Mal in Keramzin at the end of the trilogy feels like it came out of nowhere.

We never saw her interact with kids, show any maternal instincts, or even hint at wanting to open an orphanage—it’s like the idea just popped into existence. And honestly, looking back, did Alina even have her own thing? Besides disliking herring and being a mapmaker, what was she into? Her whole identity revolved around "saving Ravka," but that’s not really a personality. What’s her favorite color? What scents does she like? Does she have a hobby other than being obsessed with Mal 24/7? She’s a bit of a blank slate, to be honest.

It did.

It's rather simple- it's not about the children, but re-creation of Alina's childhood.

Her ending is a total regression minus the threat of her powers resurfacing.

She didn't settle in some random place, she could've lived anywhere, since it's even said Alina was married by the sea and Nikolai already offered even a dacha to her brand new hubby. But that wouldn't be just.like.their.childhood! She has to return to Keramzin, chained to Malyen. Sickly, a shadow of herself... the children are just props. They've been there before, they have to be now.

Sure, there are those "magical" changes making it a happy, colourful place- stories and paints and piano for anyone. Sugar and no boogeymen waiting to drag the children away- kicking, screaming into a Palace! They're here to be spoiled, but never reprimanded. Some upbringing...

Alina never showed interest in children, because she cares for them in the vague, general way. They need to be protected, they should fare better than Alina did- she has surprisingly enough empathy for that-, they're the ultimate victims should you need to prove someone's wickedness. It's understandable Alina never mentioned wanting any- she isn't good in caring for anyone, because her life is already dedicated to catering to Malyen's needs.

What did Alina want outside of Malyen?

I've asked @aleksanderscult the same question a while ago.

The answer was rather depressing- no, indeed, there's no other desire in Alina's life-, and I'll link another post, summing up her (lack of) hobbies in more eloquent way.

Although we know about one thing she liked, outside of using her powers- specific someone's thick black ruffled hair.

He held out his hand, and I stepped into his arms. I cupped the back of his neck, feeling the silken brush of his hair on my fingertips.

Siege and Storm- Chapter 23

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

i was thinking earlier about how a lot of folks love to praise mangahood/broho for its "feminism" and having "strong female characters" but as i was re-reading the manga last year, a lot of the girlboss characters that the fans love are...kinda mid?? like, you have olivier and izumi and their entire thing is "i'm so much stronger than you isn't that hilarious?!" (and i love izumi so she gets a pass but still.) and then you've got lan fan who is supposed to be this badass fighter, but immediately gets taken out in a fight against bradley and then cuts off her arm, and all of that is used to further ling's character arc (and i love both of them but like...alright. that's a choice.) then you have riza, who's whole backstory is mostly to prop up mustang, and then you have the moment where she finds out he "died" ala lust and she just... gives up?? like lmao what?? and then winry, who's (despite what fans say) entire role in the story is to be ed's love interest and when she's not needed for automail stuff, she just waits around for him, even at the end. like.... ok. which, sidenote, aside from how racist scar killing winry's parents is (and the way it's used to further the romance of edwin) i always hated how ed tells winry her hands were meant to "give life". like... wow, a male character telling a women she's meant to not fight and heal instead?? never heard THAT before! /s and yet edwin fans/mangahood fans will praise this as if it's the epitome of feminism and it's like... i mean i guess it's better than some other shonen out there but it's not what i'd call perfect lol. and anytime you try to point this out everyone is so quick to say "fma's written by a woman!!" and it's like... yes lol obviously but that doesn't mean some of her writing choices can't be side-eyed (see: how the ishvalans are treated).

What, didn't you hear? The presence of women is maximal feminism and peering any deeper than that is misogynist. The same kind of thinking that leads people to proclaim mangahood to be an anti-racist, anti-military screed when it fumbles the former and is absolutely the opposite of the latter.

Never let a shallow reading get in the way of heaping endless praise on your fave shonen fare. Feminism is when there's women and it's written by a woman, not a broad ideological/philosophical framework that needs to be intentionally understood and applied to a story.

Whatever feminist cred we can give mangahood is pretty shallow. And what sticks out to me is how overtly the Brotherhood anime upholds typical patriarchal gender roles. Girl/women characters berate the boys/men for being wimpy/failing their duty for utmost machismo. Various characters prod at Olivier for being an unwed older woman without kids, and although this is met with consternation on Olivier's part, it ties back into larger patterns of women as 'innately' maternal. Obviously the presence of sexism doesn't necessarily mean a support for it, but Winry getting moulded into the perfect idyllic white pastoral wifey does subtly tip the text's hat.

Ed is shocked that Lan Fan is a woman, despite his alchemy and combat teacher being a woman too. And as you said, we are constantly meant to gawk at Izumi and Olivier for being adept fighters, combat-savvy, and brutal when need be. The 2003 anime is not obsessed with Izumi's prowess; you're meant to take her seriously and respect her as a formidable fighter and alchemist.

Lan Fan does get to shine a bit as a fighter when up against Ed, and later when taking down Gluttony post-arm loss, but she doesn't get fleshed out beyond her dedication to protecting Ling. It does read a bit odd when, after witnessing Lan Fan's sacrifice of her arm for her and Ling to escape Wrath, Ling then kicks Gluttony's ass while hauling her around on his shoulder. Like. He's a stronger fighter than his own bodyguard. (Arguably Gluttony is a less adept fighter than Wrath, but he does have sheer mass on his side and that should not be manageable for someone encumbered by a fallen comrade.) I wouldn't expect him to be incompetent, but the disparity in quick succession of scenes is odd.

Of course feminism also isn't reducible to "when female shonen characters are good/bad at battle". More than everything mentioned, Lan Fan doesn't exist outside of Ling and her clan's duty. She has too few scenes as well, given Brotherhood's juggling of 300 characters beat by beat.

Riza truly is just a mess when looking at her place in the story. The codependence between her and Mustang is intentional, and I wouldn't knock that against the writing for that choice. Women having flaws, being wholly human in variety is not antithetical to a feminist reading. But it's when she's constantly put in situations where she's barely holding herself together, where she's a damsel for Mustang to rescue, where her distress is classically Woman™, and that the scene with Lust is meant to reveal just how that deep dependence runs. It renders her null the moment she thinks Roy is out of the picture. That's when its hard to just prop Riza up as Feminist (girlboss genocider addition which, y'know. Nothing more Imperial Feminist than ethnic cleansing, because women of colour don't count in the grand calculus for pop media feminism.)

(Also Ishvalan women also basically don't exist beyond the one elderly woman who rats out Scar.)

Yes, it's a character trait of hers: she can keep her cool so long as Roy is alive. Barring if she thinks its time to kill him herself, any other major threat to him is excruciatingly existential to herself. She revolves around him, whereas I'm not convinced Roy would be as instantly and emotionally destitute in a reverse situation. We got a taste of his Righteous Man Anger with Lust (the symbolism of this faux womanizer scorching a seductress to death who threatened his and his monogamous situationship, as well as leading on his buddy, reifying the Good Loyal Non-Sexual Woman and condemning the Vindictive Harlot is 😬). His self-destruction would likely be codified Male, the way Riza's is codified Female. It's gender roles at fairly essentialist level.

Everything you mentioned about Winry is spot-on. Her passion for automail engineering is slowly stripped away to keep her more as ship fodder and as the continual spectre for mangahood's Scar Was Wrong thesis. She's gonna bake Ed a pie when he returns home from the war front, she'll bare their children, she'll be a wife first and anything else second. Meh. How disappointing. I'll take the staunch automail freak that is 03 Winry, whose destiny is not wrapped up in the nuclear family, anyday.

Which is the other big, glaring character of Brotherhood: the power of the cisheterosexual institution of the nuclear family and marriage. It has its own healing powers, eeking the humanity out of Pride and Wrath, being the driving force for Hughes to survive genociding people long enough to establish his own family, the will-they won't-they vice grip of Roy and Riza, Ed's big reward for ending Father once and for all, Hohenheim's salvation was in part his family (becoming the true father that his homunculus doppleganger never could be); families at least exist outside of the Western nuclear model from what we see of the Xingese characters, and what little we get to see of the Ishvalans, but that's hardly expounded upon.

We weep at the purity of Madame Fuhrer's love and concern for her Fascist Supreme Leader husband and her star son, pulling on the heartstrings of the nation. (The Ishvalans don't matter.) We're stirred to righteous horror at what befalls the Rockbells, a loving family ripped apart by Amestris by Scar. Gracia is the picture perfect widowed wife, proud of her patriotic husband, and dutifully rearing the country's future. Envy, a gender freak making a mockery of her and Hughes meets brutal retribution by our idealized Man, who struck down the other aberrant gender of Lascivious Evil Woman. Winry's future shines golden, as her hands deliver a baby, channelling her parents and, (barely) subtextually, some sort of Woman's Intuition. Lust isn't even a character beyond the archetype of femme fatale (she's more interesting to analyze as the Female Sexualization of desire from an inhuman being masquerading as a cis man than as a character herself).

It's a lot of failed potential on top of being very normative.

To actually give a solid, deeper critique on the ways Brotherhood is and isn't feminist would be a greater undertaking if you want to delve beyond what's been mentioned here, and I just don't have the time to really get to the meat of it all.

Still, I don't think it isn't without some positives. At least I find Madame Christmas a solid example of an older woman not couched in maintaining a standard of feminine youth or thinness, yet carries herself with an air of confidence that the narrative and characters never balk at. The sex workers she leads are also spared sanctimonious bullshit or anxiety over their existence.

So that's something. (These are not major characters in the slightest.)

I'm not shocked by how shallow the series actually is regarding its female cast and its overall gender politics, but fan insistence that it's a prime example of a feminist story is laughable. Yeah, shonen stories, especially battle shonen, are ABYSMAL in these regards, so compared to total shit mangahood stands above its contemporaries. But if your standards are higher than total shit, than mangahood really won't knock you off your feet.

Despite what some may think, you can acknowledge the flaws of Brotherhood while still enjoying the story and characters. It isn't actually a personal attack to like imperfect media (which is pretty much all media lbr). But try bringing any of this up without people flying into a conniption, as if you killed their dog right before their very eyes. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 17!!!

Okay, it's been a bit so quick recap: We just spent the evening at a dive bar singing karaoke and learning that 1) Jesus is a 13-year-old rich white kid with rich parents living in L.A. and 2) Muriel is missing. The Angel of Sardis gave us a lovely fishbowl (alcoholic drink since no one in this world has bothered to ask Reader's age because I have more room to play that way) as a reward for singing Taylor Swift (Shake it Off). We pick up our story The Morning After.

Also, since the poll about Sardis tied, I'm taking it to mean that everyone needs/wants more time with him to figure him out. Fortunately people also voted to bring him along, so we get to have LOTS OF THAT!! :D

Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major for anyone who's curious.

What music do you think Anathema likes??

Let's do this!!

Beginning || Previous || Next

**********************************

The next morning you sit at the table in the dining room of the massive Ritz hotel suite, staring into your coffee. You have a headache, and no one else seems to be faring too much better. If only it was just a hangover. A miracle from either Aziraphale or Crowley could fix a hangover, but there was no way that a miracle of any size could make your situation any less bleak.

Aziraphale, angel that he literally is, had thought to order in breakfast from the kitchens. You look from your coffee to the waiting plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, heaving a sigh. Jesus, if and when you find him, is an entitled teen. Muriel, friend and precious, is missing. Things are...well, it’s hard to feel happy or optimistic right now. Your companions aren’t faring much better as far as you can tell. Crowley is staring at his phone with a frown, the sound effects of Candy Crush drifting across the otherwise silent table. He’s playing at non-chalance, but you know Distraction As A Coping Mechanism when you see it. Aziraphale has barely touched his food, focusing more on alternating between stirring his tea, and sipping it only to add more sugar. The drink must be nearly syrup by now. Anathema keeps dangling her pendulum, pausing, then setting it down to re-cast her rune stones. You’ve noticed that they keep landing up the same way. Well, you need fuel in your system if you’re going to deal with all of this, so you reluctantly cut a slice of pancake with your fork and bring it to your mouth.

The silence stretches. Well, except for the ambiance; Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, bacon – mixing it up a little. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast

BAM!!!!

The door of the suite slams open, and there stands Sardis with his foot in the air.

He kicked the door down. What...on….earth…

“I FOUND HIM!” Sardis stomps into the suite toward the table, waving his phone in the air, “I FOUND HIM! I knew I’d seen his face somewhere, and I found him!!”

Crowley sits up straight for once in his life. “Who THE FUCK gave him a key?!”

You avert your gaze. The fishbowl was delicious, and he patted your head afterward and told you everything would be okay! Not your fault….entirely.

There isn’t much time for you to contemplate your guilt because Sardis has turned up the volume on his phone, and pressed play on a Tik Tok video. He turns his phone so that you all can see the screen. A boy with dirty-blonde hair is smiling out of it. His hair is longer in the middle and pouffed up with what is probably a standard-teenager’s worth of hair gel, and the sides are very short with...dollar signs shaved into them. It’s just a Tik Tok video, but you can smell the Axe body spray from here.

“Hey guys!” The smiling teen calls, waving at the camera. “It’s me, ya boy Jeremy. I’m bringing back my most popular series. That’s right! You asked, and I’m answering your prayers! Time to bring back Let’s See What I Can Get Away With Because I’m RICH.”

Your face twists in disgust, and you hear Anathema groan.

“I think we’ve seen quite enough,” Aziraphale says, speaking for you all.

“Are...are you sure that’s Jesus?” You ask. Honestly you’re hoping it’s a joke. You’re hoping beyond hope that this...this...caricature of a person is not the same person who you need to convince to help you save the world.

“Oh yeah,” Sardis replies, “That’s him. Right name and everything.”

“Wot? Jeremy?” asks Crowley with an edge of salty sarcasm.

“No,” Sardis says, “His true name. I know everyone’s, remember? It’s the right kid, you have my word on that.”

Truth be told, you’re still not exactly sure what his word is worth, but for now it’s a lead. You glance at Anathema, who shrugs.

“Fits the bill,” she admits, “All my readings have been...unsettlingly clear about the kind of kid we’re looking for, and I mean...” She gestures helplessly at the phone and the video that Sardis has, thankfully, paused. You blink, dumbstruck. Aziraphale said something last night about Heaven cutting corners. Apparently they had cut the corners so thoroughly they’d made a circle.

Great.

******************

Breakfast suddenly became easier after that. Maybe it was because Sardis was the only one who wasn’t completely despairing over everything, and maybe it was because he was suddenly helping himself to the plates of excess pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, you noticed Aziraphale wave a finger and the food was hot again – trying to impress company, or be a good host, or both no doubt. You found that your appetite had suddenly returned, along with your need for caffeine. Even Crowley had grabbed some bacon now that, perhaps, there seemed a less likely chance of him having the choice if he waited any longer. Sardis did most of the talking, explaining that the shortest driving route would take 28 hours. Best to get started asap then.

“I am not listening to anymore of your….Us songs!” Crowley growls at you as soon as you get in the car.

“Not all of them are love songs!” You protest.

“No! No breakup songs either!”

“Fine, fair, but what about -”

“And especially no End-of-the-World songs!” He snarls. You’re pretty sure he’s halfway to hissing at you now. “We have enough of that to deal with assss is!” Ah, there it is.

Ever-so-gently, Aziraphale takes the phone out of your hand.

“Perhaps it’s about time someone else had a turn,” he says. Ah, so he’s finally gotten tired of humouring you and your taste in music. Well, it had to happen eventually.

Unfortunately, this means that you all end up listening to Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G Major. Well, it could be worse, you figure. At least this song has movement to it, even if it does feel endless based on your musical standards. Crowley is driving and silent, Aziraphale is waving your phone around in the passenger’s seat like a conductor’s baton. The backseat is as follows – You, Sardis, and Anathema.

Yes, Sardis is there. Considering the way he found Jesus – or, Jeremy – so quickly, and the way he seems to be single-handedly keeping everyone’s morale afloat, it seemed a waste to leave him behind. Besides, both Crowley and Aziraphale had tried to make him leave, but he just….stayed. In the end, you pouted, they gave up, and now he’s sitting in the middle of the backseat, because you and Anathema have seniority.

Speaking of Anathema, you notice her very pointedly staring out the window. She looks...stiff. Maybe classical music isn’t her thing? Your suspicions are confirmed approximately nine minutes later when she practically jumps up from her seat and grabs the phone out of Aziraphale’s hand and presses stop. The music comes to a halt and silence fills the SUV. Aziraphale looks shocked and appalled.

“Anathema!” The angel exclaims after a moment. You can practically hear him clutching at his non-existent pearls. You can see him resisting the urge to clutch at his bowtie. “We weren’t even finished the Allegro!”

Anathema takes a deep breath. You’re able to count out a solid beat of ten before she speaks.

“I...am not...listening to classical concertos for 28 hours. I don’t care what key it’s in or how many allegros it’s got!”

Crowley snickers and snorts. “Concertos don’t work like that.” He says. You see Aziraphale gently pat the demon’s knee as if to say ‘that’s my man.’

“Well what would you rather?” Is what Aziraphale actually says, “More bebop?”

“Try me, and I’ll play death metal, I swear I will.”

“Um,” Sardis ventures cautiously, “Can I see that for a minute-- thank you.” He plucks the phone out of Anathema’s hand. After a minute or two of swiping, he taps the screen, and the car fills with songs from well-known musicals. Now, although this isn’t exactly to everyone’s taste, no one can find a good reason to outright hate it. No one can manage to find a good reason not to put up with it, and so by the time Music of the Night has melted into Seasons of Love, everyone has settled down and accepted that things aren’t actually all that bad.

“Impressive,” You mutter, basking in the semi-content vibe. Everyone is still a little on edge, but it feels less intense now.

Sardis smirks. “Six siblings,” he says to you with a small nudge.

“What happened to the others?” Anathema asks, tuning in to the conversation.

“Well,” Sardis sighs, “Of the seven of us - myself, Smyrna, Pergamum, Ephesus, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and Laodicea - Smyrna and Philly were the only ones who didn’t get hate mail. Smyrna was always super into the doctrine. She drank the kool-aid, as the humans here would say, and felt it her calling to ‘return home,’ as she put it. Bullshit, honestly. We weren’t born angels, we were made alongside the churches of Christ. ‘S one of the reasons why they don’t actually give a shit about us.”

“And why you worried that your miracles might get taken away,” You add, putting some of the pieces together. Sardis nods. “Wait, a minute,” You say, “You were made??”

Sardis laughs. “Alright Little Moth, you need to pick a lane here. Do you want to hear about my siblings or how I was born human?”

“You were BORN HUMAN?!” You are practically bouncing right now. What...how… “But you said that you can’t change your species!”

“I said your Miracle Enabler can’t change your species,” He replies with a twinkle in his eyes, “Not that it can’t be done. The seven of us were all born human. We made the first seven churches, so we were made guardians, lower angels. Like...lower than whatever the lowest type of angel you know of is. But we weren’t created as angels like your friends in the front seat.” Movement catches your peripheral vision, and you notice Crowley shifting a little in his seat. No doubt that’s a touchy subject that only Aziraphale is allowed to go anywhere near, but he says nothing. “So they all pretend we don’t exist, and look down on us whenever they need to deal with us. Sort of like we’re --”

“Oh, don’t worry,” You interject, “I read enough fantasy to understand the way magical societies view human-born magic users.” You can imagine that being An Angel of God would probably get old real fast if everyone who was supposed to welcome you actually hated you and made sure you knew it. Goodness knows it got to Aziraphale eventually, makes sense that a human-born angel (a huboan? You’ll work on it) would get sick of it a lot sooner.

“And that’s why I like you Little Moth,” Sardis says with a chuckle and a wink. “Anyway, so I know Smyrna went to Heaven. Philly stayed here. The two of us have always been really close, she stuck with me and we messaged and called and visited all the time until recently. I got some messages from her when the world went nuts during the first apocalypse, but I haven’t heard from her since. She stopped replying to my messages.”

Now it’s your turn to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Your eyes drop to your feet and start to fill with tears, so you change your view to the one outside your window.

“I can relate,” You say after a moment, holding back a sniffle and a sob. Deep breath. “Well, I’m glad you’re sticking with us.” You plaster a smile on your face and turn back to him. “Maybe we can find her.”

He smiles. “That’s what I’m hoping.” For a while, everyone is silent. After a few minutes, Anathema offers to put together a playlist with everyone’s favourite songs. The mood shifts considerably as the five of you spend the next few hours excitedly making musical suggestions.

It’s the best collection of music you’ve ever heard.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[drunkenlionwrites]

very tender hurt and comfort with Vash tending to your wounds please? Maybe Reader has a lot of scarring and this is the first time Vash is seeing it? Pre relationship please so theres full of yearning and unspoken intimacy JDBSIDJJAHDIDHDJ I WANT THIS MAN SO MUCH HE HAS TAKEN OVER ALL THOUGHTS

Hi, dear anon! I am so so sorry, this request literally has been sitting in my inbox for 2 months and not because I didn’t like it, but for the opposite reason! I’ve been writing and re-writing it many times, and because I tend to go overboard with angst/hurt-comfort stuff when it comes to Vash, it turned out to be just 1000 words of fluff. Yeah, sorry to all the guys who requested fluf and got angst and vice-versa. Seems like I’m not good with requests, maybe will change the submissions to suggestions later. Anyway, hope you’re still somewhere out here nonnie and you can see this! Warnings: mentions of scars and wounds, reader without specific body parts descriptions, Vash calls you a fem!gendered word in french once though, slight pining, fluff

There’s a sudden loud laugh, shuddering of the glasses and the next moment you’re laying face down on the sandy soil in front of the saloon. Your Thomas got freaked out and yeeted you over his head right into the dirt. For real? You’ve felt a sharp unpleasant pain on the left side of your body – your cheek, belly and a part of hip and knee burnt. The inside of your mouth tasted like sand, dirt, and humiliation. You spat and saw particles of blood in your spit. Wincing, you stood up, Vash’s hands already caringly holding your elbows.

“Hey, you’re okay there?” You turned to the side to see his concerned face that grew even more so when he saw the deep scrapes on your cheek. Wolfwood placed a hand on your shoulder as he passed through you to the saloon entrance with a chuckle: “That’s a pretty nasty fall for someone who claimed to be the best rider out of us, sheriff”. You could just growl at him pettily, hearing Vash’s scolding above your head as you tried to dust off your clothes as best as you could before entering the building.

Just great…One thing you’ve been confident in was your Thomas riding skill and you made sure to tease Wolfwood ‘cause of his clumsiness with saddle. You didn’t know what was wrong with those two men, but they both were so much better than you with everything: their shooting skills and physical prowess were not a joke, and you’ve felt a tinge of bitterness every time one of them roared to you to stay back or run away (which most of the time you didn’t listen to). But nevertheless, you’ve been so used to being one of a kind, the strong one, the clever one. The promising young sheriff of your town. Well…the town that doesn’t exist anymore, but still!

Waving off Vash and his attempts to check up your bruises, you went straight into your room for the night once you’ve booked them. This soured your mood a bit – the jeans were dirty and ripped now, the bruises were pretty big, even if not really deep, Wolfwood for sure will tease you back relentlessly, and Vash saw you falling so ungracefully…ugh. Deciding to be a grown up about it, you went for a shower, which made you feel better and decided to sleep off your bad mood. Surely, with a new day it’ll all feel like a funny incident to remember sometimes and laugh about, right?

You heard soft knocks on your door when you’ve been drying off your hair with a towel. “Hey, that’s just me. Wanted to check up on you if you don’t mind?” a sheepish voice spoke, muffled by the door. Of course, he would do that… Opening the door you saw a tall blond standing there, already in his nightclothes, with a small med kit in his hands, which he shook a bit before your face. “Ummm…I know you don’t wanna, but it’s still better if we treat your wounds, you don’t want to get an infection and then nasty scars on your pretty face, right?” Pretty, is it? “Vash, I have my fare share of scars, I don’t really care about them, but if it makes you happy, sure” you stood aside from the door, letting him inside.

Sitting beside you on a bed, Vash started cleaning the skin around your scratches with antiseptic, leaning awfully close to your face for you liking. He seemed to be preoccupied with a task, making ‘tsk’ sounds like a concerned mother would. You’ve felt a tinge of warmth at this thought, not daring to dart your eyes to the side and concentrating on breathing calmly. “Show me the other bruises” Vash asked, and you obediently lifted your shirt to reveal the biggest one that marred your skin from the upper stomach to the hipbone without giving it much thought. Seeing your friend’s cheeks and tips of the ears turning pink, you decidedly pulled it back. “Um…that’s fine. Thanks for worrying about me, I can just do it myself” you smiled reassuringly at him.

“Oh, sorry, I..didn’t mean anything like that. Just noticed that you already have some scars there. Did you get hurt a lot?” you chuckled as you raised your shirt once again for Vash to continue with his medical care. “Well, even though it’s just a silly nickname now, I used to be sheriff for quite some time. Yeah, I have some. Some are knife wounds, some from gun shots, maybe now some new from falling off Thomas” you tried to end it on a funny note, but Vash only frowned and placed a hand on your shoulder. “You know you can stop anytime? It’s not like you must continue to live such a risky life… You can find a nice occupation suitable for une jeune fille like you. Settle in a relatively calm and nice city? Wouldn’t it be better?” He said as if coaxing you, his voice soft and dreamy.

It was your turn to frown at his words. “You know I would if it was something I wanted, right? I never wanted such a life, especially not now, not when I…well… when I’m doing something important and helping you out. And I’ll ask you out of my room if you raise this topic again, okay?” Vash shook his head and chuckled, pressing his fingers, covered in healing balm to your bruised belly. “I surrender, sheriff. Please, spare this pitiful outlaw!” You laughed at that, his fingers somehow burning your skin way stronger than the deepest abrasions.

[lonestarflight]

Skylab Missions: Skylab 3

*

"These three men are the prime crewmen for the Skylab 3 mission. Pictured in the one-G trainer Multiple Docking Adapter (MDA) at the Johnson Space Center (JSC) are, left to right, scientist-astronaut Owen K. Garriott, science pilot; and astronauts Jack R. Lousma and Alan L. Bean, pilot and commander, respectively."

Mission Duration: July 28 - September 25, 1973

Time Duration: 58 days, 15 hours, 39 minutes, 42 seconds

"The Skylab 3 mission started out as routine, but was not without in-flight high drama of its own. Shortly after docking and entering the Orbital Workshop (OWS), all three crew members experienced motion sickness, delaying the activation of OWS on-board equipment.

A more serious concern was raised on Mission Day-5 (MD-5). An apparent failure of two of the four thruster quadrants of the Command Service Module (CSM) reaction control system was detected.

Not only could an actual failure like this create an early end to the mission, it also could conceivably render the CSM incapable of supporting a safe return of the astronauts to Earth.

Launch crews at the Kennedy Space Center were placed on a 24-hour per-day, seven day per-week work schedule to prepare the Skylab 4 Saturn IB launch vehicle for flight in case an early launch was needed for a rescue operation."

The Skylab 4 Saturn IB (CSM-118/SA-208) launch vehicle is rolled to Launch Complex 39, Pad B.

"A decision was made to continue the mission, and although the Skylab 4 launch vehicle had been rushed to flight-readiness, the CSM performed flawlessly during re-entry operations.

On August 6, 1973 astronauts Garriott and Lousma performed a spacewalk which lasted 6 hours, 31 minutes. During this spacewalk, the astronauts were able to extend an external twin-pole thermal shield to replace the parasol thermal shield installed by the Skylab 2 crew. They also retrieved and replaced film from solar telescopes housed outside the OWS.

A second spacewalk by astronauts Garriott and Lousma was conducted on August 24, 1973. This one lasted 4 hours, 31 minutes. During this spacewalk, the astronauts retrieved and replaced film from solar telescopes housed outside the OWS and installed a cable for a new rate gyro package. They also performed some maintenance activities.

The third and final spacewalk of the mission was conducted on September 22, 1973. This one was conducted by astronauts Bean and Garriott and lasted 2 hours, 41 minutes. During this spacewalk, the astronauts retrieved and replaced film from solar telescopes housed outside the OWS and performed maintenance activities on other external experiment packages.

Scientific experiments, including the observation of unanticipated dynamic solar activity, continued for much of the 59-day mission. The crew participated in classroom-oriented educational demonstrations regarding weightlessness.

The Skylab 3 crew set a new manned space flight endurance record. Their in-flight health fared markedly better than the Skylab 2 crew, with the exception of the amount of bone calcium loss.

A significant demonstration of long-term space flight and the long-term viability of the OWS was successfully achieved."

* Due to a NASA management error, crewed Skylab mission patches were designed in conflict with the official mission numbering scheme.

An interesting side note, the wives created their version of the patch. I've covered the NSFW bits just so the Tumblr staff doesn't mark my blog as NSFW.

"The main feature on the second Skylab crew patch was Leonardo da Vinci's universal man, slightly retouched to make it 'G-rated'! Without their husbands knowledge, the astronaut wives also had a patch made which was a joke version of the official crew patch. The universal man figure had been replaced by a 'universal woman'. Instead of the astronauts names; Bean, Garriott and Lousma, their wives first names were shown: Sue, Helen-Mary and Gratia. The crew first became aware of the wives patch when they found stickers of them in their lockers on board Skylab."

source, source

NASA ID: S72-51123, S73-28714, 72-HC-90, SL3-108-1288, SL3-109-1345, S74-15583, SL3-111-1505, S73-34369, SL3-117-2109

[runekirikjartan]

​🇫​​🇮​​🇨​ ​🇸​​🇪​​🇱​​🇫​-​🇷​​🇪​​🇨​​🇸​

Fic authors self-rec! List your favourite five fics that you've written, then tag at least five other writers! Spread the self-love. 💙

I was tagged by @marloviandevil and have spent the last like 45 minutes agonizing over which fics I feel are worth posting, thank you though bc now I've evaluated and have found some gems I forgot about writing

--

talking to the moon Ship: CT-782 - Hevy/Reader Rating: M Summary: Finding the frequency was an accident. Falling in love with Hevy, that, that was just fate. Why this one: This was the fic I wrote in 24 hours after rewatching the Rishi episode and it was honestly self-indulgent, but it's got both a bittersweet ending and an alternate ending so it's the best of both worlds Status: Finished

--

Signs of the Skrill Ship: Dagur the Deranged/Bragi the Berserk (Original Character), Viggo Grimborn/Original Character(s) Rating: M Summary: As the youngest chief in the Barbaric Archipelago, Dagur the Deranged quickly learned three things; first, you can always forgive but never forget. second, your family is your life, and third, you can't rule alone. Bragi the Berserk has known three things to be true: first, family was what you made it, second, it was entirely possible to be lonely in a room full of people, third, if you give someone your heart, you better hope they would keep it. Two young men attempt to navigate duty, grudges, honour and glory, while trying to keep each other afloat. Why this one: I always wondered what would happen if the How To Train Your Dragon franchise (specifically Race To The Edge) would fare if it met more Game of Thrones style writing. Now I'm definitely not the next GRRM but It has been an interesting explanation into the side characters who had plenty of potential. Currently being re-written from its original finished state. My pride and joy fanfic, have been working on this since 2014 when I first started watching HTTYD and the fic has quite literally grown with me. Status: Unfinished.

--

when the rain comes down Ship: Halfdan the Black/Original Male Character(s) Rating: M Summary: King Harald arrives in Kattegat, Bragi moves to follow his fate, as it comes in the form of brown, wild eyes and blond hair. Why this one: What's a bit of fruitiness within a period-piece drama about vikings? Very dramatic, many liberties taken with plot, a fix-it in the works. Currently being re-written from its original finished state. Status: Unfinished.

--

4. don't wanna cry but i break that way

Ship: Nil Gen Relationship: Hound & Original Clone Trooper(s) Rating: M Summary: Chasers died, either by falling off the multi-levels of Coruscant, or by getting shot, or they went missing in the middle of the night on patrol, or Hound lost them during chases on Coruscant's duracrete sidewalks.

He couldn't get attached. Why this one: Admittedly this is probably one of the best Coruscant Guard centric fics I've written (and there's a lot of them). Hound is a character we see very little of (about 1 minute of screentime) but a man and his dog always make me happy... so I may have given him a little bit of sadness too. Part of the Fox & His Shinies series which is my current pride and joy of Clone Wars fics. Status: Finished.

--

5. the poor run with smoke lungs

Ship: Nil Gen Relationship: CC-1010 | Fox & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-1010 | Fox & Original Clone Troopers (s), Dogma & CC-1010 | Fox Rating: M Summary: A vignette style fic about how the 501st and Coruscant Guard coped with being forced to share a space at General Skywalker's command while the Jedi General tracked down Rako Hardeen for the killing of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why this one: A part of the Clone Wars that is rarely delved into because it's immediately preceded by Umbara, Kadavo and followed by the Wrong Jedi Arc and the Chip Arc. I didn't think many people realized that the 501st were essentially employed to the senate the whole time that Anakin was hunting down Rako Hardeen. Part of the Fox & His Shinies series which is my current pride and joy of Clone Wars fics. Status: Unfinished.

---

I have honorary mention for: two worlds - COD x Avatar Crossover gen fic. Summary: When Phillip Graves gets the opportunity to venture out onto the remote moon, Pandora, a million miles away, at his little brother's recommendation, he takes it with open arms.

--- Tagging - only if you want to! @mamuzzy-creates-stuff/@mamuzzy, @whiskygoldwings, @ithillia, @blackat-t7t, @kworking

[rustedleopard]

uty ship headcanons? Your character analysis are all really great and I like reading them so feel free to rant if you want.

I'm not really much of a shipper. Usually when I engage with a story I'm more interested in stuff like themes or characters or etcetera, so mashing two characters's faces together falls really low on my priority list (and for the rare few ships that I do have, I also tend to look at them from both a platonic and romantic angle because just focusing on the romantic aspects will start to bore me after a while). Not to say that shipping is a bad thing, it's just not my thing.

For Undertale Yellow, I don't really have any ships besides Staroba. I like that their dynamic has more of a sense of equality to it (as nice as they are to each other, both Starlo and Ceroba aren't afraid to call each other out on their shit), they're pretty funny together, and them being childhood friends to lovers is pretty cute. I only like/can see Staroba happening a few years after Clover passes though. Ceroba needs time to recover from her previous relationship and Starlo wouldn't push her into anything she's not comfortable with; he's respectful like that 👍. Plus, what ultimately turned Ceroba off from dating Starlo is that he was immature, and at the end of the True Pacifist story, Starlo is shown helping his family and starting to be more responsible. So I imagine that Ceroba would end up gradually falling for Starlo without her knowledge until she one day realizes and is like "Oh." Then cue a bunch of guilt because she feels like she's betraying Chujin by falling for Starlo and Starlo helping her gradually work through it. It's a slow burn 😅

(Any treatment of Staroba as a "Starlo gets the girl" type deal is an absolute turn-off for me. It's not about Starlo getting Ceroba like she's a prize to be won, it's about them growing into better people together and realizing that their feelings are mutual.)

.....And THIS is the part where I re-read the ask and realize that you probably want me to talk about my opinions on UTY ships overall. Hmmm. I'm putting the rest of this under a cut. Warning that this will be a bit headcanon heavy.

First of all, any sort of Clover × adult character ship (Martlet, Starlo, Ceroba, Dalv, Mooch, etc) or any minor × adult pairing is a strong NO from me. I don't care how you try to justify it, it's disgusting, I don't care for it, I don't want to see it. GET THE HELL OFF MY BLOG! This isn't me being a hard-ass, this is me expressing a normal opinion to have. If the person reading this ships minor × adult ships, then Leave. Now. Likewise if you take any minor × minor ship and do NSFW stuff with them. Yes, even if you age them up.

With that being said, I also want to state that I don't hate any of the ships I talk about below, I just don't ship them myself. These are just opinions/my interpretations of them and if you have different ones from me, then that's totally fine. I'm just some rando on the internet, don't let what I say stop your roll. I'm... also gonna try to be brief with it since there are quite a few ships to cover.

(EDIT: I was not brief. Oh my god, I was not brief!!!)

Clover × Flowey: I can't see this as a lovey-dovey standard-fare relationship, especially if it takes place during canon. I don't care if Flowey calls Clover his best friend and lets them rest at the end of the True Pacifist story, I found that moment wildly OOC and did not like it! Flowey said he hated them in both the Neutral and No Mercy run endings, and Clover didn't really do anything to bond with Flowey in the True Pacifist ending, so I don't see why he'd suddenly change his mind. Plus, I tend to see Clover as having pretty good judgement of character and that they have some suspicions as to why Flowey is helping them so readily. But... Let's just throw that out the window for this scenario! If Clover had feelings for Flowey, he would absolutely abuse that to lead them around by the nose. Flowey already tries to isolate Clover from their friends and control them by saying that their friends are a bunch of bozos and to focus on the mission and that Clover is too good for them. And if he had their romantic affection as well? What's to stop him from using that to push Clover to go to Asgore and not get distracted? It'd take him a few resets to get used to having Clover look at him like (⁠灬'_'灬⁠), because Flowey has his own issues, but once he's got it down pat, he'd exploit it as much as he can to control Clover. He wouldn't return their feelings either, and would probably start cackling to himself about how much of an idiot Clover is the split second he dives underground. Honestly, I deeply pity Clover in this situation. In a post-Undertale canon scenario, I could see them trying to be friends with each other, but if you're like me and headcanon that they get revived with ALL of their reset memories, being friends is the absolute best case scenario.

Clover × Kanako: Feels like a "pair the spares" situation more than anything. We don't know much about Kanako besides she was kind and smart and brave and well-loved. Nothing about her likes, dislikes, opinions, preferences, etcetera. This may be a bit mean but to me, she was more of a representation of an innocent child lost to Ceroba and Chujin's whole deal than she was her own character. Plus if things go the route of "Ceroba (and Starlo and Martlet, but they don't matter here) adopts Clover and becomes their new family," things get iffy there because they're siblings. Adopted siblings, but siblings nonetheless. But, hey, most of my opinion on how well this ship turns out hinges on what happens to Clover's familial situation post-everything (should they get revived) and how someone characterizes Kanako since she's a fairly blank slate. Do something good with it and I'll go 👍. (psst, would be really cool if you made Kanako dislike humans in a sorta "learned from her dad and perpetuates his bad habits" way. would make her and clover's relationship, romantic or platonic, very interesting and would make her feel more real and grounded..... i know that her spoon-behaviors in the true lab contradict this but i'm just sayin')

Clover × Chara: Two fascinating characters, both who went the "sacrifice myself for the sake of Monsterkind" route, to wildly different degrees of success. From what I've seen, a lot of Clover's characterization in this dynamic seems pulled from the Undertale Red + Yellow mod which... I don't agree with their characterization there. They never struck me as especially chatty, they just say what needs to be said and leave it at that (if anyone here is gonna be verbose, it's gonna be Chara). I also don't see Clover as trying to be upbeat and positive all the time, like in the UT Pacifist Route. Have you seen them in the UTY No Mercy route? Clover can get very serious when they see fit. Hell, even in Pacifist, Clover strikes me as the sort to give the impression that they're serious almost all the time because they don't emote much and are terse (even though they're pretty damn hilarious in their head. A shame 😔). But I digress. The biggest difference between these two is their opinions on humanity. Chara hates humans enough that they try to force their brother to start attacking humans and Clover cares about humans enough that they jump into a mountain that children were known to go missing in to bring justice to the five kids. Yet both of them had shitty lives back home. More than wanting to see them hold hands, I wanna lock them in a room together and make them talk about humans. Either some crazy understanding would bloom or it'd just be two 12-year olds squabbling forever. Place your bets here on how it would turn out.

Axis × Daisy: Nothing needs to be said because I can't come up with anything to say. I wish Axis the best of luck with putting trackers in his children though! 🙏

Martlet × Red/Papyrus/Moray: Gonna throw these all into the same category because I can basically say the same thing about all of them: they're fine. I won't seek them out intentionally but if a story/fanart happens to feature it, I wouldn't be turned off from it. Canon just doesn't give me anything to really work with for these ships so I just go meh. I will say though that while I am usually not a firm "X character has Y sexuality" person, I do tend to see Martlet as a lesbian. So if I stumble across a Martlet × Papyrus fic or fanart or something, there's a bit of a mental hurdle to overcome with me going "Oh, this person thinks Martlet has a different sexuality from how I headcanon her."

Ceroba × Alphys: TOXIC YURI!!! Two characters who hate themselves for their actions who also project their insecurities and the parts they hate about themselves onto the other person. While Ceroba would likely be giving Alphys a lot of shit and would usually instigate things, don't forget that Alphys can snap back if pressed (remember the Queen Alphys ending?). Minecraft Achievement: How Did We Get Here?

Ceroba × Chujin: In an AU where Chujin didn't die, it would've ended in the messiest divorce. Their relationship was a powder keg ready to blow: lack of communication, blind admiration, secrets being kept, one party pulling more weight than the other to cover living expenses, and I could go on. The only reason why they stuck together so long was because they loved each other, and well. Romantic relationships can't last on love alone. There's gonna be moments where there's no room for romance in a relationship because life is happening, and the split second they would've hit one of those moments: *KABOOM!!!* Therapy and proper communication could've saved them, but they're both too prideful and secretive to ever explore those routes.

Starlo × Dalv: Admittedly Corn Yaoi is one of the funniest names for a ship out there. Gives me a "Country guys make do" vibe from name alone (if you're a minor, please don't look that up. Or if you do, because I know realistically that I can't stop you, don't hold me responsible for it!). But besides that, I don't really feel anything for it. They only interact once at the end of one route out of four possible ones, they were far apart from each other on screen, and their conversation was mostly a "Hello." "Hi." situation. There's no chemistry or anything from that brief interaction to make their relationship stick out to me. I see their relationship as cordial, two people united by their affection for the same person who have friendly feelings for each other but it doesn't go beyond that. Sorry ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

(Small aside: I'm not the sort to get into ships between characters who don't meet/interact much in canon (....which I'm sure you've gleaned if you've read up until now), but judging by Orion's dialogue in routes where Starlo is spared, where he talks about going to Snowdin to investigate his family's corn being grown there, I like the idea of him meeting Dalv and developing feelings for him and being embarrassing about it. Whether it works out or not doesn't matter. Being awkward in romance should run in the Sunnyside family, me thinks.)

Starlo × Ed: Scandalous! But I headcanon that Ed and Starlo had a brief gay thing going on between them sometime after Ceroba got engaged. Starlo couldn't truly commit to it because he still had feelings for Ceroba so they agreed to break it off since it wasn't fair to either of them. They're on good terms, but there are still moments where Ed goes soft for Starlo.

I don't know if there's any other ships out there that I forgot to cover. There's probably a million. Uhh, this was a very broad topic to approach and I didn't realize it until I started typing. Maybe if there's a ship/topic out there that you want me to cover, feel free to ask. Though, perhaps be a bit more specific next time 😅

[hottpinkpenguin]

Blessing - Eomer X Fem!Reader

Oneshot, word count: 4,4045 Summary: Loving a Lord of the Riddemark comes with its fair share of trade-offs. Even more so when you're riding into battle right next to him. Warnings: steam (mutual bathing, nudity, kissing, heavy petting if you squint), canon-typical violence, some playing with the timeline,

You unsheathed your sword in one swift, strong movement, the grating sound of steel on steel as the blade scraped against its scabbard. Your horse, Túrion, reared up on his hind legs as Saruman’s Warg-riders charged across the empty plain in front of you. You had only moments before their forces would smash against your company’s line. Turning back to face your comrades, you lifted your sword high into the cold, early dawn air. 

“For King, for country, for your families and homes!” You shouted as loudly as you could manage, hoping your voice carried over the sound of whinnying horses nervous for battle and the growing roar of the Wargs. The faces of the six dozen female warriors at your command – your swordsisters - broke into a unified scream. The battle cry echoed across the dusky plain, and you noted with a grimly satisfied smile that some of the foe balked at the sound. 

Túrion pulled sharply at the bit in his mouth, signaling to you his anxiousness for battle. You felt the same frenzied energy; it had been ricocheting through your bones ever since King Theoden had given you his begrudging permission to mount up and join the rest of the Rohirrim in guarding the citizens of Edoras as they made the dangerous march to the mountain keep at Helm’s Deep. Your nerves came partially from the knowledge that this was the only change you and your swordsisters had of proving your mettle to the rest of Rohan, and partially from knowing that, although you had the king’s blessing to fight, you distinctly did not have the blessing of his heir and your lover, Eomer. 

As another bloodthirsty cry erupted from the lines of mounted soldiers behind you, you gave Túrion his head, kicking him into a gallop as you thrust your blade high and forward, signaling the charge. 

“For Middle Earth!” The riders behind you echoed your call to arms as the company leapt to action. 

The sound of hundreds of hooves pounding into the frostbitten ground roared to life as your unit charged forward to meet the oncoming Warg-riders. Your mind slipped into a red haze of battle-fueled fury as your sword sliced through its first victim, then its next, and so on, until you and your sword were one and the same. 

* * * * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time you re-sheathed your sword. The muscles of your sword-arm shoulder screamed in relief as you let go of the weight of your blade. You swung down off Túrion’s saddle, examining your stallion’s wounds. Most were superficial cuts, but there was a deep gash cut into the meat of his left flank. Dark crimson blood stained his grey speckled coat, and he whinnied in protest as you gently prodded the rough edges of the wound. It would require cleaning and sewing, you decided, which meant you wouldn’t ride him for a few weeks while it healed. 

“My brave, brave boy,” you cooed at him tenderly as you moved to the front of his body, stroking his sweaty neck sweetly. You saw his eyes soften at the sound of your voice. You let your forehead fall forward to connect to his snout. He chuffed at you lovingly, rubbing his nose on you as if to reassure you he was alright. Túrion had been your horse for almost ten years, and he’d joined you in every battle you’d fought in so far. 

“It seems your horse fared better than you, my lady.” The voice behind you was reproachful but laced with relief. You smiled, ignoring the admonishment in Eomer’s words as you turned to face him. 

“Eomer,” you sighed dreamily, your voice misty with exhaustion as you let him envelop you with his arms. The layers of armor and chain mail and fighting leather between you left you unhappily separate from his reassuring warmth, but the knowledge that he – like you – had survived the Warg attack made you weak in the knees with joy. 

“You’re hurt, Y/n,” he mumbled gruffly against your hair as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. 

You pulled back from him, puzzled. You hadn’t noticed any injuries during the battle, although it was very possible that adrenaline had dulled your awareness. 

“I am?” you replied in bewilderment. You lifted your arms gingerly, trying to feel for the injury more than look for it. There was an appalling amount of blood and sinew and entrails staining your armor; all of it from your enemies, you’d assumed, although Eomer seemed to disagree. 

“Your head,” he said by way of clarification. His expression was pained as he touched the side of your face up towards your right temple. Although his pressure was gentle, you noted a tenderness at his touch, and his fingertips were tacky with half-dried blood when he withdrew his hand. Your mind idly flicked through the memories of the battle, trying to identify when you’d been injured. You knew some of the Warg-riders dipped their blades in poison – usually the officers – and if the injury had come from one of them, you’d need to see an apothecary for the herbal antidote. You had a vague recollection of your helmet being knocked from your head by an errant arrow. As you tried to piece the memory together, you realized that the arrow must have sideswiped your skull, leaving a shallow albeit bloody gash there. 

“I’m fine, it was an arrow,” you sighed in relief as you gently ran your hand along the cut. It was narrow and straight – most certainly the work of an arrow rather than a blade. You saw Eomer’s shoulders visibly relax; his mind must have raced to the possibility of poison just as yours had. 

“Thank the Gods,” he breathed out, cupping your cheeks in both his hands as your foreheads connected. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you enjoyed the sound of his breathing syncing with yours. The sounds of the fading battle and dismounting riders around you faded into the back of your awareness as you let Eomer’s presence wash over you. 

When you finally drew back to meet his gaze, you saw the anger that he’d tamped down just long enough to ensure you’re safety flare to life in his honey-brown eyes. 

“What in the devil are you playing at, exactly?” he snarled accusatorily. You had to suppress a chuckle at his rage. He was the bravest man you knew, like one of the royal knights of old out of a children’s fairytale, but when it came down to you, his protective anger reminded you of an hissing, spitting kitten. You wanted nothing more than to pepper him with kisses and have him walk you to a nice, warm bath, although you knew that your doting affection would only enrage him further.

In an attempt to hide your smile, you turned back to Túrion, undoing his breast collar and easing the saddle off his back. 

“Whatever do you mean, my Lord?” Try as you might, you couldn’t quite extinguish the note of teasing in your sarcastic question. Eomer’s nostrils flared in response. He grabbed your upper arm, pulling you about to face him. His eyes were simmering, his handsome lips pursed so tightly they were white against his sun-tanned skin.

“You rode into battle knowing you didn’t have my blessing,” Eomer growled. He released your arm as a few of his men walked past, eyeing the two of you surreptitiously with sidelong glances. Your romance with Eomer was no longer a secret, although both of you tried to keep your personal affairs separate from your roles in Rohan’s military. 

“I had the King’s blessing,” you snapped back once his men were out of earshot. “Last I checked, the King’s blessing still outweighed yours, Lord of the Mark.” Using Túrion’s saddle as a buffer, you brushed past him, leading your horse by the bridle towards the line of soldiers pulling back from the corpse-riddled battlefield towards the shadowy mountains off the west, where the safety of Helm’s Deep thick stone walls awaited. You could practically feel the heat from Eomer’s gaze boring into the back of your head as you walked away. 

Let him burn himself out, you told yourself as part of your instincts yearned to turn back and make peace. You knew Eomer’s anger came from a place of protectiveness, and you loved him for his devotion. By the same token, you also wanted him to realize that a warrior’s blood pulsed through your veins. It wasn’t your fate to be a lady of Rohan’s court, waving embroidered handkerchiefs at him as he rode off into a glorious death in battle. Your fate was to ride out next to him and meet your enemies standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Like him, you would lay down your life to protect those you loved. You’d never dream of taking that away from him; and you expected him to give you the same latitude in return. 

Holding your chin high, you let your feet carry you away from him, eventually getting lost in the crowd. You’d be lying if you said your pride wasn’t a bit wounded that he didn’t chase you down, but he didn’t. Eomer was far too proud for that.

* * * * *

It wasn’t until nightfall that you reached Helm’s Deep. The adrenaline of battle had long worn off by then, and you were beginning to feel every bump and bruise covering your body. Based on the scattered reports you’d picked up on from the other unit commanders, you knew that the battle was far from over. Saruman’s main force was marching towards Helm’s Deep as you spoke. The Warg-riders had been little but a scouting force. You only hoped to have enough time to eat and, if the Gods were merciful, rest. 

Once you’d seen Túrion to the stables and tasked a stable hand with patching up his wound, you made your way towards the main hall of the keep. Theoden’s court had assembled there, and he’d ordered all of his unit commanders to adjourn there for a hot meal and battle strategy. Thankfully, your company had lost relatively few of its number, while others had sustained heavy losses. Despite the bone-deep fatigue that pulled at your eyelids, you forced yourself to stay keen to the king’s brief on his strategy for the coming conflict. Given that your company was still majority intact, you suspected that you’d be part of the castle’s main defensive force along the lower ramparts. 

It wasn’t purely exhaustion that threatened to pull your focus elsewhere; from across the dimly lit hall, you could see Eomer at his usual place to the king’s immediate left. His expression was somber, and you doubted that anyone noticed the slight groove between his eyebrows that betrayed his inner turmoil. But you knew his face the same way you knew the feel of breath in your lungs. You’d be able to feel his emotions in the dark. 

After the king dismissed the company leaders under strict instructions to rest as much as possible, you felt your feet automatically lead you up towards the head table where Theoden, Gamling, and Eomer sat together, their heads bowed as they continued to talk of strategy. Noticing your approach, Theoden smiled at you warmly and waved his nephew off.

Eomer protested his uncle’s dismissal, partially out of a sense of duty and partially to spite you, but Theoden would hear none of it. “Soldiers are never guaranteed another sunset, Eomer,” he chided his nephew sternly but not unkindly. “Don’t waste this one mulling over the details of tomorrow’s doom. Go. Be with your heart.” 

Theoden’s words touched you, and you bowed your head gratefully at him as Eomer rose with a sullen pout. As you turned to follow a very surly Eomer out of the hall, you swore you saw Theoden shoot you a conspiratorial wink. 

The walk to Eomer’s chambers was quiet, although not tense. There was an understanding between you two: despite your quarrel, both of you expected to spend the evening together. And although there were differences of opinion, you knew that you were secure in his affections, just as he knew the same of you. You and Eomer had been doing this dance for too long to let something so petty drive a wedge between you, especially on a night like tonight. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but at times you swore you felt the faintest tremor in the mountain that Helm’s Deep was cut into, a foreshadow of the unimaginable force marching your way. Theoden’s scouts had reported an army as large as ten thousand strong, pouring out of Isengard’s gates. The very notion of ten thousand was almost beyond your imaginings, and it pierced your heart with an unmuted terror. You knew Eomer felt it too - everyone did. 

Perhaps it was that shared terror that kept both of you silent as you entered Eomer’s chambers. He closed the door behind you softly, dismissing the guard who stood watch by the doorway. You’d only been to Helm’s Deep once before, but the chamber was exactly as you remembered. The court servants who had fled Edoras with the rest of the nobility had brought with them precious few luxuries, but among them were a pile of freshly laid towels, a bar of soap, and an array of candles spread throughout the room. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw steam rising from the simple, porcelain tub in the corner of the room. A warm bath was exactly what you needed right now. Sweat and dried blood from the morning’s battle had dried on your skin and in your hair. You weren’t a particularly vain person - your lifestyle hadn’t afforded you such luxuries - but you were not above enjoying a thorough soak and a soft bed to lay your head on at night. 

Without sharing a word, you and Eomer began removing your armor. Unlike earlier, where his anger hung around him like a stormcloud, his mood now moved in the direction of contemplative. You felt his gaze on your face as you lifted the heavy chainmail tunic you wore under your leather armor over your head. With the weight of your armor removed, your limbs felt loose and light. As you swung your dirty braid over one shoulder and began undoing the plaits, Eomer finally broke the silence. 

“I never get tired of seeing you like this, you know.” HIs voice was softer than you expected, and it caused your breath to snag in your chest. You lifted your eyes to him as you shook out the roots of your hair. His face was streaked with dirt from the fight, and there was a dark blue bruise that you hadn’t noticed earlier blooming under one eye. But beneath the grime and his week-old stubble, you saw a soft smile gracing his lips and a gentle light in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Like what, my lord?” you replied teasingly as you unlaced the bottom layer of your armor - a heavy tunic made of quilted wool. The chill damp of the air felt delicious against your bare skin. You didn’t relish the idea of re-donning everything in just a few hours, especially given that you wouldn’t have time to wash the tunic or clean the plated armor, but for the moment it felt incredible to be rid of those putrid, heavy layers. 

“Undressed, in my chambers.” Eomer’s reply was somewhat muffled by the hem of his own tunic, which had snagged around his head while he was undressing. You laughed at the sight of the Lord of the Riddemark, future King of Rohan, half-naked with a dirty tunic wrapped around his neck. You stepped over to him and helped untie a few more laces at the neck of the tunic, easing his head through the opening and freeing him from the confines of the tunic at last. 

“Such language in front of a lady,” you replied mirthfully as Eomer gestured towards the tub. You accepted his invitation gratefully, stepping one foot into the warm water and then another. The bathwater turned grimy as you let your body sink beneath the surface of the bathwater, dipping your head back to wet your hair. 

From outside the tub, Eomer grabbed the bar of soap and wetted it before running it over your hair to form a lather. When he began rubbing your scalp with firm fingers, you let out an audible moan as you let your head lean back against the edge of the bath. 

He chuckled as you gave yourself over to the incredible sensation.

“I see no lady here,” he replied after a moment, earning a playful glare from you and a splash of bathwater in his direction. He dodged the blow easily, letting out a laugh of his own. 

“Your manners need work, my lord.” Your retort had little bite to it; you were too mesmerized by the patterns Eomer’s fingers wove against your scalp. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you let relaxation seep into every fiber of your body.

“No lady,” he continued, bending down until his beard tickled your ear. “Only a woman. My woman.” Your toes curled under the surface of the water as he dragged those last two words over the gravel in his voice. Sensing he’d plucked the right chord, Eomer chuckled proudly as he planted a kiss to the soft skin in front of your ear. You reached up to grab his hair and pull him to your lips, but he’d already withdrawn. Your eyes opened just in time to see him sink into the bath next to you, the water level rising dangerously close to the lip of the tub. Like you, he grunted in appreciation as the warmth of the water began to work out the kinks in his tired muscles. 

You allowed him to settle against the far edge of the bath before you moved towards him. He opened his arms in a well-rehearsed move, allowing you to settle between his strong thighs and lean back against his firm torso before wrapping you with his arms. Your head lolled back against his shoulder, his cheek coming to rest on your freshly rinsed hair. This was not the first time you had shared such intimacy with your lover; far from it, in fact. But, much like he had pointed out earlier, there was no dulling of affection between you two. Instead, you felt your feelings for him deepen with each passing day. 

As the two of you sat together in the cooling water, you traced absentminded circles over his forearm. Your gaze landed on the dancing flame of a nearby candle as you let your mind wander into a space just shy of sleep. You felt Eomer’s breath deepen against your back as he too relaxed into the quiet. 

After several minutes of companionable silence, you squeezed his arm to rouse him from his reverie.

“Do I have your blessing for the battle ahead, my lord?” Although you used the same playful tone you’d employed moments prior, the question was a serious one. You felt Eomer tense ever so slightly behind you as he considered his response. 

Sensing his hesitation, you pressed on.

“You know I will fight tomorrow, with or without it.” Eomer tensed further at your callous words, although both of you knew they were true. You let your tone soften as you added, “although I would feel all the better for it if I had your blessing.” 

He let out a soft sigh, shaking his head slightly. 

“Whatever did I do to find myself in love with a woman such as yourself?” Each of his words was drenched in devotion, and the sound of it made you curl against him as he squeezed you tightly. It wasn’t a direct answer, but you understood his meaning. His blessing wasn’t something to give or take away; you always had it. Eomer had known what you were long before he’d fallen into your bed, and you’d been certain not to soften those parts of yourself that found a home in battle just for his sake. 

“You are truly one of the lucky few,” you cooed back, relishing the sensation of him nuzzling down against the skin where your neck and shoulder connected. You reached a hand up behind you, lightly gripping the back of his head and encouraging him to let it hang gently against yours. He obliged, sighing contentedly as you began twirling strands of his hair around your fingers. 

“I swear to the Gods, y/n, sometimes I don’t know if you’re my salvation or my downfall.” His confession came with a distinct note of pain. You knew that pain well: it was the pain of loving a warrior. The pain of having to say a potential goodbye each time they rode into battle. The pain of subsuming the urge to protect him at any and every cost under the need to follow orders. It was the pain of frantically searching for an all-too familiar face amongst the bodies of the dead on a battlefield. It was a unique kind of pain, and one that both of you had known you’d always live with when you’d allowed yourselves to fall in love. 

You ignored the way the bathwater sloshed over the edge of the tub as you turned to face him. His eyes were misty as you cupped his handsome face in your hands, running your thumbs tenderly along his cheekbones. 

“Eomer… my love…” Before you could finish your thought, he pulled you against him, his lips meeting yours greedily. In an instant, you recognized the intention behind his kiss. A knot of desire began to coil in your stomach as your fingers tangled in his hair. He pressed his kiss down into your mouth harder, and you felt the mingling of fear, pride, devotion, and love in behind that pressure. Your chest bloomed with heat as the kiss deepened. Suddenly, Eomer rose from his seated position and stepped out of the bath, his muscles tensing enticingly with the quick, agile movement. Bending down to lace an arm under your legs and one behind your back, he lifted you quickly from the now tepid, grimy water. He carried you to the bed with a purposeful heat simmering in his eyes, making that knot in your stomach tighten further as butterflies began to take flight in your lungs. He laid you on the soft blanket, his arms coming to frame your shoulders as he settled his body over top yours, caging you in between his flexed biceps. Just before his mouth met yours again, you lifted a finger and pressed it to his lips. He froze, his eyes on you with curiosity and a hint of frustration. 

“Your blessing, Eomer,” you said breathily, trying to tamp down your own impatience. “I want your blessing.” It had never felt important before, but the longer your mind lingered on the battle ahead, the more compelled you felt to hear those words. 

His honey brown eyes danced with delight as you withdrew your finger, allowing him to speak freely. He didn’t hesitate.

“You have it.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“You have my blessing always.” Another kiss at the corner of your mouth. 

“Today.” Your jawline. “Tomorrow.” Your collarbone. “For all of your days.” Your shoulder. “And all of mine.” Back to your lips. 

Your heart seized in your chest as the tenderness of the moment bewitched you. Eomer hovered over you, each of you basking in each other’s gaze for another heartbeat. You saw the tender light in his eyes turn molten just as your own mind turned back to the needs of your body. 

“Now, my lady,” he whispered. “Allow me to show you exactly how much of this lord’s blessing you’ve earned.” He dove down to kiss at the now cleaned skin above your breasts, earning a delighted cry from you as you let your eyes flutter close. 

Somewhere in the darkness covering Rohan, an army ten-thousand strong marched closer; but for that moment, your love chased away the dark…

[thunderstomm]

Hot Wheels: Let's Race - Season 2 Thoughts

Season 2 has been out for a few days now, and I've watched every episode at least once through, so I'm finally going through all of my thoughts on the show, what's going on, and what I think is going to happen next. The joy of serialized kids shows!

Everything will be under the cut, just in case. Spoiler alert for all of season two!

First off- we're finally introduced formally to our "mystery racer"- Cruise! She's the daughter of the villain of the first season, Professor Rearview, and a racer in her own right. I have to say, I think her character design is very clever, having the shape of her pigtails match Professor Rearview's big hair! i know some people may not like that Cruise is his daughter, as opposed to a grandchild or niece, but I think that the fact of her being a direct descendant makes more sense for the story they're telling. That and there's fun to be had with Professor Rearview being an evil dad.

Cruise is undeniably the highlight of the season for me, and my new favorite. I enjoy the angle of the racers having a non-camper opponent, as the lack of constant close proximity, or down-time with one another means they don't have to be cordial or polite towards Cruise, and we see a lot of more intense emotions fester as a result- especially on Coop's end.

I also think in general, Coop as a character works much better in this season. The pre-established motivation, plus his new outstanding title as the camp champ are threatened directly by Cruise, as he is her primary target to beat, and the determination and vigor it brings out in him is very entertaining to watch.

The rest of the racers sadly don't fare as well, as it feels like they take more of a backseat when compared to season 1, outside of a character focus episode. This feels especially apparent with Axle, who has gone from his role as the main rival, to being good-aligned all of the time. His personality is still intact, but It feels very odd to see him so reduced in role, as the show doesn't frame him as a threat to Cruise also- despite the fact he is probably the only racer outside of Coop who could pose such a threat. The rest of the cast seem much more competitive when Cruise is not in the picture, but once she is, the show relegates them back to supporting roles. Considering the show's age demographic and the story it wants to tell, this isn't a huge problem, but nonetheless a little sad to see.

We also get a bit of backstory for Dash and Professor Rearview! I'm surprised to see they're the same age- either Dash has aged really well, or Professor Rearview has aged terribly. It's interesting to see they were campers at the same time. Were they friends? The amount of team-strengthening exercises that Dash has her own campers do is re-contextualized by this reveal- is she trying to prevent a repeat of what became of Rearview by making sure they do actually like eachother and get along, meaning the jealousy that comes with losing is minimal, or reduced because they can feel good for the person who does win because they are friends?

The environment that Dash and Rearview were in was clearly far more competitive and unforgiving. Of course, we can't pin it all on just that, as Professor Rearview's coping mechanism and overreaction to his loss is his own fault. Explanations, not excuses. And carrying this grudge for at least 30 years, it has long passed being something to be blamed on the conditions of the environment.

I'd love to see a flashback episode regarding their time at the Ultimate Garage honestly! Who were the other four campers who they trained alongside? I'd like to think maybe Axle's dad, Striker, was one of them. Seeing the exact conditions of the race would certainly help to clarify as much. Not to mention, they already have the 3D models for young Dash and Rearview...

One thing that was made clear by the episode count, and the season ending about half-way through the level 2 arc is that season 2 has been split in half, and the season 3 we're to get is really the second half of season 2. Which means more time to dwell on what we've gotten, and who will be the winner of the Ultimate Garage. There's also the question of whether the show will redeem Cruise, and have her join the side of good. I personally am conflicted? It would be interesting, and makes sense, but we are also yet to see any desire to change- let alone Cruise's own motivation and feelings towards her father's plans.

One thing I wish we had seen was a slower moment between Cruise and someone else, particularly any of the racers! I think the show would have it be Coop, as he is our main character, and I don't really have an issue with such. Season 1 gave us a whole episode where he was made to work with Axle, and it gave us a better insight into his character, motivation, and storyline. I think an episode like this with Cruise, under a circumstance that suits their storyline and characters better, would work wonders. Cruise clearly LIKES to race, and yet she is willing to help her father win it in order to destroy it? There's the general question of why Professor Rearview would even allow his daughter to be a racer, but considering he was a former racer, I suppose it would be a waste to not pass on those skills. Is Cruise of the belief that her father will spare her car, and allow her to keep racing? I want to see Cruise forced to talk to someone so that we get these answers.

As mentioned in a prior post, I have two theories regarding the next season's end, the winner of the Ultimate Garage, and the events that could follow. These are both hypotheticals in which Cruise does get a redemption arc, so both of these could very easily be wrong, and Cruise could remain evil, which still would be fun to see.

Option 1: Coop wins the Ultimate Garage. Coop manages to catch up in flame badges to Cruise, leaving the final race as to being between the both of them. Coop ends up winning the big race, much to the delight of the other camp racers, Dash, and his father. However, this victory does not stop Professor Rearview, and he puts his plan into motion to destroy the Ultimate Garage anyways. The campers and Dash all band together to stop him, but It's not enough. All hope seems lost, and there is a moment between Professor Rearview and Cruise where Cruise comes to the realization that their plan working means she will never race again, and lashing out in anger to get a victory that destroys the rich car culture of the city, and takes away something she loves, is just not worth it. She'd rather race again and get a chance to prove herself and improve, rather go down as a sore loser. Using her knowledge of her father, her car's unique abilities, and a little encouragement from Coop and the other campers, Cruise helps to stop his plan. After his defeat, Coop invites the other racers to continue staying with him at the Ultimate Garage, wanting them all to continue improving together. He also ends up extending the invite to Cruise, considering that now she has no place to go, as she's betrayed her father, and now that she's "good".

Option 2: Cruise wins the Ultimate Garage. Despite the campers' best efforts to beat her, Cruise still ends up winning out, and is rewarded with the ownership of the Ultimate Garage, much to the despair of everyone else. She excitedly shares the news with her Father, who is excited to begin the plans to destroy the whole thing. However, Cruise is starting to have doubts. She has all of these amazing cars and resources at her fingertips now, and she can use these to become an even better racer! She tries to convince her father that maybe they don't have to destroy everything, and can keep some of it intact, but he is not having any of that. He's looked forward to this for years! Realizing that he won't listen, Cruise instead asks for help from the campers, admitting that she was wrong, and needs their help now to stop Professor Rearview. Reluctantly, they choose to believe and trust her, and foil the plans with their racing skills. Once he is stopped, Cruise attempts to hand back over ownership of the garage, but the others insist she keep it. They come to a compromise- they'll share. After all, there's a lot they can all still learn from one another, as people and as racers.

Thanks for reading all of the way through! What are your thoughts on the new season, and your theories, if you have any ! I'd love to hear what everyone has to say!

[apoptoses]

i gotta know, what order do you rank the VCs

oh man I cannot number order them, to do that would be like picking a favorite cat and they change depending on my mood so like I gotta go with the tier system.

ALSO I never promised anyone here that I had taste, these are my own personal feelings etc etc Mostly I have ranked them based on how much I skim when (or if) I re-read lol

The Vampire Armand- Anne put her whole entire vampirussy into this one like this is the book that has everything!!! There's angst, there's smut, there's cults and kidnapping, there's the beauty and high drama of the Venetian renaissance, what more could you want!! And honestly I think her Armand voice is one of her strongest, right up there with Lestat. You could take an Armand quote out of context and know he's the one speaking. Even my least favorite parts of TVA are still more enjoyable than the best parts of the VC books I don't love.

The Devil's Minion Chapter of QotD specifically - absolute insanity, just banger after banger, not a single word wasted. I could have read an entire novel of this, and again, a unique voice and style! I think this part of the book slaps so hard because it's the first truly modern part of the VC, told from a modern perspective and like. It's so good because every VC reader has probably thought 'wow how exciting would it be to be a vampire's companion/lover' and then Anne actually went and wrote what that would be like. Incredible!

The Vampire Lestat - Getting the back story of the characters introduced in interview is incredible and I feel like Anne finally cut loose and let herself start to be a weirdo with all the world building and entangled relationships. Also just worth the re-read for Armand drop kicking Lestat out of Notre Dame and Marius's insane house of taxidermy and baboons.

Interview with the Vampire- a classic, no other details needed.

Tale of the Body Thief- a polarizing choice I know, but it's such a wild diversion from the typical VC books. Lestat described himself as the James Bond of Vampires and this is the one book that's truly like a tightly written action movie. And Lestat is just so monstrous in it, and in a really complex way- like he's partly reacting to the trauma he went through with Akasha, he's at a low point with self esteem, but then also some of this behavior begs the question of whether being a vampire made him the way he is or whether it's just inherent in him. An underrated VC book tbh.

Blood and Gold- I just love that Anne took on the challenge of writing the life story of a vampire that is thousands of years old. Reading it gives me the same feeling of growing up and realizing that the people you considered 'adults' are just as lost and mentally immature and messed up as you, and never really had any idea what they were doing when child-you thought they had it all together. Also I just love anything that gives me more of the events of Armand's life from another pov.

Queen of the Damned- a great story but I get bogged down by the number of characters and plot lines introduced every time I re-read it, and I end up skimming some of the POVs (or skipping them entirely like baby jenks) I know Anne finally put her foot down and told her editors to fuck off with this one but I wish she'd listened to them just a tiiiiny bit and cut some stuff/expanded other more interesting stuff.

Pandora - Such tight writing!! I wish Pandora hadn't been sidelined in the other books because Anne built such a strong character with her, she deserved better tbh!!

Prince Lestat - it's okay, I just like the sections with my favorite characters and seeing some secondary characters return like Bianca and Allessandra and Antoine. Getting some resolution on what happened with them and where they are closer to the modern day was nice. Also the stuff with Fareed giving Lestat hormones so he could fuck and then get Maury Povich'd eighteen years later was hilarious nonsense, 10/10 Anne insanity. This book just feels like fun trashy vampire stuff (affectionate) in the same way watching True Blood feels like fun trashy vampire stuff, so even if it's not Anne's best work it's still alright imo.

Memnoch the Devil - I simply do not care about God or the Devil or Dora or Rembrandt enough to care about this book, and it only gets ranked below Prince Lestat because I think it drags where PL has a faster pace that allows my brain to skim over the least tasty parts. Really it only makes it to D because of Armand in his dusty jean jacket and Lestat using Dora's uterus as his personal capri sun. Overall though just a slog to get through.

Blood Communion - I just personally do not care for the whole vampire court concept and wish Anne had dropped it after the replimoids. Like I tolerate it in Prince Lestat but ending the series on 'united vampire community' feels off to me when the whole concept of vampires is that they're outsiders struggling with immortality. Also, another kidnapping plot? Anne pls you're better than this.

Merrick - I have erased everything but the Louis bits of this book from my mind. We simply did not need Claudia's vengeful spirit or Louis getting force upgraded and the humanity of him erased by Lestat's ultra-powerful blood but we got it anyways I guess. Very atmospheric though, I do like the return to New Orleans as a setting.

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis - Cruel of Anne to put Atlantis in the title and give us aliens instead of mermaids. The most cracked out VC book in existence, would only re-read if paid to. I have no words for how much I do not care for this book, especially after reading Anne's notes at Tulane and knowing what could have existed instead.

The Vampire Vittorio - such a flop of a vampire he never even gets mentioned in the other VC books. I do not know this man. This book does not exist to me.

[s-lycopersicum]

I did not plant, buy, or otherwise purposefully acquire this thing. It just sneaked its way into my hands.

I was gifted a spider plant in a clear plastic container and, in the process of re-potting it, I found an unidentified smidge of green squeezing itself to the walls of the container, growing of its own accord. Life finds a way, I guess.

I have no idea as to the species of this thing—hell, I don't even know what genus it is. Every identification tool I find sends me a different one: Alocasia, Colocasia, Philodendron, Syngonium... At least it's all within Araceae.

Nevertheless, after releasing it from it's single-use polypropylene cradle, I transferred it to a proper home. However, I can't say it fared all that better. The soil I had for it was a sterile silty mess, and my watering skills were, frankly, atrocious. And as such, it spent a few months in quite the sorry state, taking a long time to put out these tiny, mushy leaves.

But every since I've moved here, things have changed: I transplanted it to a bigger container, filled with a well-fertilized clay-based soil mix, changed the schedule to prefer a infrequent deep watering every few days instead of the daily showers as before, picked a better spot with more sunlight, and well...

The results have been really impressive! Since the changes, this thing has been sprouting almost a leaf per week, each bigger than the last. Look at the latest one, its bigger than my hand!

All in all, I came to admire it quite a bit. From it's humble origins at the behest of no one, to it's enduring life at the precipice of wilt.. it has come a long way. And I promise to try really hard to keep it alive going forward.

[liauditore]

for some reason ur ask is cursed by an evil spirit and webbed site spilled spaghetti sauce all over itself when i tried to answer it so ig we're doing this now @sharksome-nen

half the board being coloured in but no bingo sums up me and this ship perfectly i think.

me being REALLY unhinged below the cut about toxic!fh (a teeny tiny bit neg/discoursey on empires if u squint). gets rlly abuse-y.

ohohohohohoh ur trying to get me killleedddddd.. :D

they're so special to me i hate them so much.

ok so uh i wrote a Whole Thing but it was getting way too ramble-y but basically uh. not a fan of romantic!fh. empires writing is very understandably not perfect and i saw some disturbing implications between the lines and couldn't help but fixate on them and it kind of soured any fluffy!fh fan content for me. sorry im a grinch and i was born with hate in my heart🙏🙏

but uh... if u take those disturbing implications out of the lines, x500 their size and severity, apply a dash of self-projection and start associating songs sung from the pov of abusers with it?? oho. ohohoho. oh that's. that's the good stuff.

i have this rlly cursed notepad doc where i basically vomit Ship Thoughts tm onto so here's the entire fh section copy+pasted. 👍

probably the most explicitly romantic and the most explicitly toxic. They DO love each other a lot. Jimmy looks up to Scott (he's so cool!) and would do anything just to live a happy life with him. I imagine that he's had a crush on him for the longest time from a distance, but didn't approach him until 3L because he didn't think Scott would look in his direction. Scott loves Jimmy deeply too but in the way someone might love a pet or a toy. "How's this poor thing going to survive on his own?" is probably what he uses to justify alot of what he puts Jimmy through. I imagine that Scott is someone who's lived a very monitored and controlled life (he gives me royalty vibes) and probably doesn't understand the extent of the abuse he's been put through or the way it's warped his perception of love. Love is a conditional commodity for him at this point in 3L and right now he's using it to buy some protection (never a good idea to go solo in a death game arena). So everytime he scolds or hits Jimmy it's always out of love, always for his own good, if he doesn't learn how to act now then someone will kill him for running his mouth eventually. Especially in the 3L Death Game. And Jimmy puts up with it and believes him because he hasn't learnt to respect himself yet. But as the games go on I do believe Scott begins to fall for Jimmy in a more genuine, kind way. Still not wholesome but he's very much not just extra numbers for safety anymore. He feels scorching regret for what he did after Jimmy dies but won't admit it to himself or anyone else. It's a selfish kind of regret, he hates himself more than he loves Jimmy, but it's still there. Post-3L Jimmy has some time away from Scott during LL before meeting Tango in DL, a partner who respects and even admires him, who gives him the space to grow and the trust to take risks that would better the both of them. Jimmy gains newfound confidence and a new perspective on his previous relationships, culminating in him actually standing up to Scott in LimL and refusing his offer to get back together. He's grown up. Scott, on the other hand, fares much more poorly. He is offered genuine love, unconditional love and it frightens him because he can't understand it (he doesn't think he's love-able). What does she want from him? He can't control Pearl the way he could with Jimmy and she Scares him. It doesn't matter, he can manage by himself (he always has) and he has an eye for finding kindred spirits. But it's not the same (he misses him). (he needs his Pet back) (he needs his Control back) He doesn't get it. final diagnosis: what should have been a beautiful love story twisted into something awful, divorced and should not re-marry even if Scott wants to.

ngl there is that.. little part of me that really wants jimmy to relapse and go crawling back cus old habits die hard, right? but on the other hand i. i want my son to be happy. sometimes.

I like writing characters with super messed up warped perceptions of love and hurt themselves and others in the process with it. its evil and sexy.

if we're gonna get into the whole song lyrics thing i really really love using mahiru's milgram songs for fh (even tho i associate scott more with muu). they just make sense to me. lyrics from haruko because i adore their covers.

(also uh these songs are about an abusive relationship and the second one has not so subtle suicide imagery in the mv so know that if ur gonna seek them out)

I'll love you till you fall And won't feel bad at all, Because I still get worried Could you please forgive me? Every little thing I only say to get to you Every little thing I do when "you and me are through" That's me loving you

Do my feelings drive you crazy? Sorry I don't care you baby. Tell me please, Tell me please, Why don't you ever love like me?

I just... i think scott genuinely caring for jimmy and wanting to keep him safe but like.. scott's brand of 'safe' is guard up at all times and manipulating those around you. and jimmy's useless at it/doesn't even catch on at all and it just ends up frustrating scott more.

Told you I loved you and then did what I did The right is gone and we're done, I'm crossed and covered in sin My love, it got it's lick back, Destroyed me, I deserved that, Tell the truth, Tell the truth, Why can't I ever love like you?

i LOVE the idea of scott regretting how he treated jimmy too late and still being in denial about it oufhlsdfhfls

so uh yeah it's an okay ship 👍

[tilbageidanmark]

MOVIES I WATCHED THIS WEEK #206:

9 MORE POST-DOGMA DANISH FILMS:

🍿 I probably seen RIDERS OF JUSTICE 12-15 times already, and I just can't get enough of Anders Thomas Jensen's 2020 brilliant thrill ride. It's an absolutely perfect movie, perfectly-told. The level of nuanced cinematic story-telling here is as good as any movie I've seen. It's about fate and chance, the power of coincidences and healing, about grief and mental health, and a fraught relationship between a father and daughter...

Watching it around now is even better, because it's actually a Christmas fairy tale (although a tale that include PTSD, sodomy, death of a mother, sale of a child (alleged), and intense bloodshed and gang violence.) 10/10 re-watch ♻️.

🍿 The new FAMILIES LIKE OURS which just premiered on Danish TV, is my 6th by Thomas Vinterberg, and his first miniseries. It has a terrific premise: Because of rising sea level, flatland Denmark [whose highest hilltop is 186 meter] is about to be completely flooded, and all its citizens must evacuate to other countries. So the nice, middle-class society which was used to life of civility and leisure, become climate refugees among other European countries, who may or may not be interested to have a new flood of immigrants among them.

Instead of creating over-dramatic situations, Vinterberg concentrates on the interpersonal travails of the members of one extended family, some more interesting than others. Eventually, the 7 hour-long saga becomes a bit too lengthy and kind of stodgy - a condensed 2 hour version would have been so much more effective. 4/10.

🍿 LAST ROUND (1993) was Vinterberg's film school graduation short. Young Thomas Bo Larsen has terminal leukemia, so he parties hard in his last night in town. But it's an unconvincing, nervous, childish effort.

🍿 THE IDIOTS WHO STARTED THE PARTY is a celebration of the Dogma 95 movement, on its 25th anniversary in 2020. Exciting recollections by members of the collective, as well as interviews with my old film professor from the University, Peter Schepelern! (Photos Above).

The 10 "Rules of Chastity" which they defined and enforced were gimmicky and off-putting, and out of the 35 movies made in this style, only a few are worth watching today. But it definitely built a highly-successful 'New Wave', it energised a whole generation of local filmmakers, and it re-established the Danish film-scene into an international powerhouse.

🍿 WHEN DANISH FILM CROSSES THE LINE (2020) is another Denmark Radio documentary about the most controversial Danish films, From Benjamin Christensen's 'Häxan' (which I haven't seen yet) and Asta Nielsen's 'The Abyss', to 'A stranger knocks' and Lars von Trier. Denmark was the first country to legalize pornography in 1969, so there's plenty of sex involved, but also violence, animal abuse, profanity and atheism, sometimes all at once. Among the talking heads, Peter Schepelern again puts things in prospective! [*Female Director*]

🍿 ØDELAND (WASTELAND) (2015), an unusual film school short - not from Copenhagen, but from the the town of Odense on Fyn . A live action doomsday dystopia, similar to 'The Road', very low-budget but fully accomplished. A father and his teenage daughter, among the last survivors, must use extreme caution when they run across a deaf, traumatized boy. Found at random on YouTube, and surprised that the director never broke through.

🍿 Susanne Bier directed 6 of Anders Thomas Jensen's manuscripts (including my all-time favorite 'After the wedding'). OPEN HEARTS (2002) is the only one I haven't seen until now. It's different from his usual fare, being a straight love melodrama with a strong, domestic plot; A driving mother causes an accident that paralyses a young man who's preparing to get married. Mixed-up doctor Mads Mikkelsen, the driver's husband, falls in love with the fiancé of the paralyzed man, and eventually leaves his family for her. It's a small mess.

There's a lot of fawning online, both gay and hetero, over sexy Mads Mikkelsen. This film surely created much of this fawning: he is playing here an ordinary guy, not a hero, who's just deliciously lovable. [*Female Director*]

🍿 Also, two of Mads Mikkelsen's earliest films: In his very first film, CAFÉ HECTOR, Mads has a small cameo, while the main character is played by his real-life brother, actor Lars Mikkelsen. An affected little make-believe story about a social outcast pretending to be Travis Bickle who actually gets to stop and kill a real psychopath with a gun. Surprisingly, this is also one of Anders Thomas Jensen's first works as a writer. 1/10. [*Female Director*]

🍿 THE CARETAKER (1997), a little nightmarish Noir about a man watching a woman with binoculars, sees a murder, maybe not. Some surrealist touches, cockroaches crawling in the ceiling, bloody hand - M'eh.

🍿 The "romantic" comedy ITALIAN FOR BEGINNERS (2000), my second by Lone Scherfig. But while 'An Education' was wonderful, this one was unpleasant all the way through. Not only the low-cost, indie, badly lit and noisy vibes, but none of the clumsy, meek and fumbling characters were endearing. There are two abusive parents (who fortunately and separately, die), and especially the main dude, Hal-Finn, is a real asshole but whom everybody tolerate. And they all want to learn Italian, for some reason. Pass! [*Female Director*]

🍿

ROSE HOBART was a 1936 experimental collage film, an early re-purposing of found footage. It comprised mostly from snippets of Rose Hobart, the main actress of 'East of Borneo' which Joseph Cornell, the shy avant-garde artist who made it was obsessed with, making it also an early 'fan-edit'. Salvador Dali disrupted in rage during the premier of this film which he attended, claiming that Cornell stole the idea "from Dali subconscious". Selected for the 'National Film Registry' in 2001.

🍿

4 SHORTS BY GERMAN ANIMATOR VOLKER SCHLECHT:

🍿 THE WAITING: "Ecologist Karen Lips lived for several years in a tiny little shack in Costa Rica to observe frogs. When she left the cloud forest for a short time and returned, all the frogs were gone. She set out to find out what happened to them – and encountered a horrible truth. Mysterious deaths occur all over the planet and have a similar pattern. Why have so many species vanished? And what does it all have to do with us?"

This outstanding 2023 science animation of a real-life crime mystery won a bunch of awards at film festivals. 9/10.

🍿 In KAPUTT (2016), two women who were political prisoners in East Germany describe the horrific conditions of forced labor and abuse in the notorious central prison at Hoheneck. Hard watch. 10/10.

🍿 GERMANIA WURST (2008) is a semi-humorous rundown of Germanic history, from the Holy Roman Empire to the present day. He serves it sliced with bouts of sausage making and lively military march music. Terrific! 8/10.

🍿 NOTHING ELSE (2001), Schlecht's second film, more of a mood piece about tiny gestures on a train ride.

🍿

MORE FROM FREAK OF NATURE RICHARD CONDIE:

🍿 Re-watch♻️: Isn't his 1985 THE BIG SNIT the best Canadian movie ever made? Yes, it is. And why is there a giant Goodyear Tire in one of the rooms? 10/10.

🍿 "Moments ago I had everything - Now there's a cow in my nose - Because I opened the stupid door!"

In LA SALLA (1996) a wacky Italian inventor literally loses his head. So much drugs were used during the creations of this film!

🍿 OH, SURE (1977), a very short short about how to make a fool of yourself, even at your old age. Perfect for me.

🍿 In PIGBIRD (1981), a man smuggles a hybrid animal into the country, only to discover too late that it is covered with some nasty ticks. It was actually a PSA for Canadian Customs. 9/10.

🍿 THE APPRENTICE (1991) is another weird, incomprehensible story set in medieval times. Wordless, it's told only through guttural, cacophonous sound effects.

🍿

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE ORCHESTRA is a new documentary about the first woman whom Leonard Bernstein allowed to play with the all-male New York Philarmonic in 1966, and her illustrious career as a double-bass musician. It features some beautiful music, but the old-time sexist theme is told in the typically pedestrian Netflix style, devoid of air and life. [*Female Director*]

🍿

2 WITH ELEANORA PIENTA:

In PLAISIR (2021) she's a young American seeker who doesn't speak French, but nevertheless comes to the south of France to stay in an art/work commune. It's about the inability to communicate, and not being exactly sure what you know and what you want. Female-focused with a distinct female gaze. [*Female Director*]

🍿 LITTLE CABBAGE is a Southern Gothic of a kind. In 1959 Alabama, a young female composer falls for a black man and goes insane. 1/10. [*Female Director*]

🍿

A BUNCH OF SHORTS:

🍿 My first Popeye cartoon, the 1934 A DREAM WALKING. What a terrific piece of art! Popeye and Bluto fight each other to see who will get to save the sleepwalking Olive from the beams of a high-rise construction site. Absolutely thrilling - 10/10.

🍿 "Shag me kindly...?"

LADY PARTS (2018) is the pilot for the series about this all-girl Muslim punk band in Camden. The musicians are one Halal butcher, one Uber driver, one illustrator who sells her art at the open market, and their Niqāb-clad manager working at cheap ladies' lingerie booth. [*Female Director*]

🍿 "Give the kid a bagel!"

A miracle in Brooklyn, and a holiday classic: In 2007 Ken Russell's was challenged to make a film so offensive that even he would want it banned, so he made the absurdist A KITTEN FOR HITLER, with an Oompa-Lumpa playing a little Jewish boy with a swastika tattoo. As much as I hated 'Jo Jo Rabbit'...

🍿 MERMAID (1997), my 5th Pagan/Christian Russian fairy-tale by animator Aleksandr Petrov, done in his recognized style: Pastel oils applied by hand unto glass plates, like moving paintings, making his films seem like blurred dreams.

🍿 When I lived in Norway in 1974, there was a little toddler in the farm, and her favorite TV-characters were the classic KARIUS OG BAKTUS. These two puppets were tooth bacteria that lived in some boy's mouth, and destroyed his teeth. I can see how traumatic was this 1955 horror cartoon for little kids.

🍿 I only watched the Israeli love story SASSI KESHET NEVER EATS FALAFEL (2013) because it had 'Falafel' in its title. It's a stupid reason - just like this film. 1/10.

🍿 "Do not lose time on daily trivialities. Do not dwell on petty details." Don Herzfeldt's WORLD OF TOMORROW, my second favorite movie of all times. I should start watching it every week... 11/10.

🍿

When I saw the first episode of STONER CATS, I wrote: "I like cats and I like 'stones, so (this) was exactly for me. 5 cats gets stoned when their old lady shares her medicinal delivery stuff with them." But now that I saw the whole first season, I say: Screw that! It was a one joke stretched into an unwatchable lame, thin slop soup. 1/10.  

🍿

(ALL MY FILM REVIEWS - HERE).