#yeah that would probably work actually

[dykesynthezoid]

I love the theories that Irv has been able to “naturally reintegrate” to a degree, and tbh I don’t think it would be happening just bc of sleep

We can deduce that the severance procedure preserves the outie’s procedural memory, emotional conditioning, and non-autobiographical semantic memory. The innies can remember how to do procedural tasks like driving a car, they tend to have similar baseline emotional attitudes, negative emotions from their outies can carry over, and they can recall objective information about the world. It’s only autobiographical information and episodic memory that the innie is cut off from.

(Interestingly, the outies are, comparatively, cut off from more types of memory than their innies are. The outies don’t appear to be able to access semantic information or procedural memory from their innies; which makes sense, because otherwise they’d know way too much about what Lumon was up to).

We see in early season 2 that innie Irving has leaned into his existing procedural memory for artistic expression. The combination of drawing (his outie’s procedural memory) and the subject being Burt (an explicit visual memory and emotional trigger only innie Irving has access to) is essentially combining memory and brain functions that originate from both the outie and innie. Pairing them together strengthens the possibility for Irving’s two separate brain patterns to begin to overlap and coalesce.

The questions Reghabi asks Mark while reintegrating him point to this canonically being a relevant part of the reintegration process. She switches between questions about autobiographical information (what color were your mother’s eyes? an explicit episodic memory) to objective semantic memory (name a dam, what does MDR stand for) emotional conditioning (what is something for which you feel shame) and back again.

[yuwuta]

do you think gojo could be normal about someone off-handedly mentioning you have a work husband or do you think he'd hold on to your leg for 24 straight hours and cry or do you think he'd go to prison for murder

[batcavescolony]

I see a lot of people upset about William Kaplan being dead and no one mourning him cus Billy stole his body and I just don't see it that way. The kid in Wanda Vision is Billy Maximoff, The teenager at the Bar Mitzvah is William Kaplan, the Teen that got taken to the hospital after the wreck is neither and both Billy Maximoff and William Kaplan. That Teen went home with the abilities of Billy Maximoff, to the home of William Kaplan, with memories of neither and lived there for three years. He cares about Rebecca and Jeff, he lied to the to protect them from pain, they are his parents. He wants to find Tommy, he has magical powers, he wants to know who he is. All of these things are true. I wouldn't say William Kaplan is dead he just doesn't remember, like Agatha wasn't dead when he was Agnes, she just didn't remember.

[bottlemandx]

award for most neurotic 13 year old goes to...!!!!

(LOW-EFFORT FUNNIES UNDER CUT)

[sunderwight]

Thinking about the weird camaraderie that exists between demons but not angels in GO.

Have we ever seen two angels who are actually friends? Or even friendly to one another? We have met angels with a capacity to be friendly in general, but I think the closest we've come to two angels actually getting along would be Gabriel making a point to laugh at Sandalphon's terrible "can't have a war without War" line in S1.

Most scenes between the angels actually seem to have an undercurrent of absolute hostility. Teeth-clenched teamwork. No wonder it took them so long to notice that Aziraphale wasn't on the same page as the rest of them! The rest of them are barely on the same page as one another, either! When Gabriel goes against the majority vote, no one bats an eye at demoting him and wiping his memory. Michael and Uriel immediately begin vying for his job. The only times we've seen angels team up is when they're working together to bully someone else, like when they're trying to intimidate Aziraphale in S1 or going to the aftermath of the bookshop raid in S2.

Saraqael's overall neutrality towards Muriel is the closest we get to two angels in Heaven getting along, and it's more a lack of hostility than any kind of friendliness. At least until Gabriel loses his memories and Muriel shows up to spy on Aziraphale, and Aziraphale decides to be kind to both of them.

Demons, on the other hand, actually seem to form alliances and even friendships among one another. Hastur and Ligur are awful, but Hastur seems genuinely distraught over Ligur's death, not just fearful of suffering the same fate. Shax and Furfur conspire together and even though the 1940's investigation into Crowley's fraternizing doesn't work out for Furfur, it's not due to any double-crossing on Shax's part. Unlike the angels, who stick almost exclusively to making threats until the Metatron decides to try dangling a carrot at the end of the season, demons actually offer rewards to other demons when trying to work together. Beelzebub offers Crowley a promotion if he can bring them Gabriel, Furfur offers to back Shax up politically if she goes for the Duke position opening, and Crowley successfully stalls Hastur in S1 by pretending everything was a test and he's going to be put in charge of a legion as a reward for passing. They're still not great at socializing, but they're significantly ahead of the angels.

Of course, it's a fact that demons are awful to one another (Eric's treatment is really bad, they throw that random demon into holy water just to test it, "it'd be a funny world if demons went around trusting one another", etc) but they still seem more capable of forming friendships than the angels do.

I think that's because Hell cramps and crowds everyone together to try and increase their suffering and hostility, whereas Heaven isolates angels to decrease the odds of questioning or rebellion. Hell's methods are unpleasant, but it still ends up putting demons together, and some of those demons inevitably forge alliances and make friendships. Because as Crowley and Beelzebub demonstrate, demons are still social creatures with the capacity for love and affection, even if it's strongly discouraged and buried under nine million layers of trauma and a cultural mandate against kindness.

Angels are the same, but isolation makes is harder to form connections than overcrowding. Muriel and Jimbriel are both so eager to make friends, but Muriel's spent the past millennia shut in an empty office, and Gabriel has been distanced from his peers both through his position and also through Heaven's culture of fear and surveillance. He only breaks away from it when he finds something that's stronger than "choosing sides" (stronger than the fear of being rejected by Heaven and Falling, in fact strong enough that Falling seems worth it if he gets to be with someone he loves). Both Muriel and Gabriel are only able to start forming connections when they're away from Heaven.

I just think it's interesting that demons, despite being supposedly devoid of love, have an advantage in forming relationships compared to angels. Angels are supposed to love, but have far fewer opportunities to actually do so. Demons aren't supposed to love, but they make connections anyway.

[holyshit]

.

[lostsyren]

I've read all of your work, but my memory SUCKS. Have we gotten a love confession from Rafe? Maybe it can tie into a third part of the whole ''I have standards'' fight that they are in.

ᥫ᭡ I love you

{summary: the first three times rafe cameron says ‘I love you’ to sofia}

{a/n: sorry for the delay. i didn’t include this to be with the standards series, so i apologise! you can tell how behind on my asks i am! but i hope you still like it!}

{warning: mild sexual content}

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

The first time Sofia heard him say those words she couldn’t be sure he actually said them.

It was when they were fucking. Well– not really that. Sex had become something that transcended physical. It became almost a mental game between the two– where eye contact was held, where touches felt reverent, where kisses were uncontrolled. It was no longer hooking up, it was companionship– for the both of them.

Sofia knew Rafe was lonely. She quickly figured out the playboy, cocky, man of the house persona that clung to him like dried paint was a front. He’d always be wary of never hurting her (well at least not consciously) and that was a lot more than what could be said about other guys on Figure 8 she’d messed around with. They were always mean; especially after they’d wetted their dicks with her.

“Be quiet when you leave– if they see I hooked up with the bartender I’d never live it down.”

“You think you can give me free drinks now? I think I deserve it.”

“You pogues always want more don’t you?”

They’d always say they were joking when they would see her crestfallen face and wide eyes. Rafe’s jokes had irked her a couple times too, but he’d always found a way to fix it– make her feel better. They never did.

So when Sofia heard Rafe murmur something against the flushed skin of her neck, his head buried into her hair, lips pressed on her jugular vein– her heart spluttered for a second.

“I love you,” he panted, half breathless, half groaning.

It was either she’d misheard or he was joking.

So she let the moment pass, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist as she came. He didn’t say anything afterwards. Maybe he didn’t want her to hear? That’s why he’d muffled his mouth with her nape. Maybe he didn’t mean it? It was just a wanton slip of the tongue. Or maybe he didn’t say it at all and she was just hearing what she wanted.

The second time he said it he was drunk. And she heard him loud and clear.

Rafe wasn’t the type to get full-on, no inhibitions, sloppy, drunk. He could handle his drink. It was usually him who had to deal with Sofia’s tipsy ramblings and inebriated stumbles.

So when he was throwing back shot after shot at some party they’d attended together, Sofia thought nothing of it. But later on when he’d come crawling back to her, after fooling around with Topper and Kelce, she was surprised to see him like that: drooping eyelids, blush-kissed cheeks, a clear, rhythmic sway to his walk.

“Hey baby,” he slurred, sinking next to her on the couch. His head lolled back, and up close she could see a faint sheen of sweat coat his skin.

“Rafe– are you drunk?” She said, bringing her mouth close to his ear. He sat like he always sat– sprawled out, legs spilling into her space.

“No…I’m fine.”

He was not. He’d been acting off for a the past couple days. But whatever was bothering him, he didn’t let slip. Sofia had a hunch it was something to do with his family– information he’d impart with rarely. But whenever he did mention his father, or his sister, sometimes even his mother…Sofia listened, still and solemn.

“Come on, let’s go.” She left one word unspoken, that dangled off the end of the sentence like breath hanging in front of you when it’s cold.

Let’s go home.

But it wasn’t her home. It was his home. She’d been with him long enough to feel like this was something more. She knew it was something more. But neither her or Rafe would concede first. Not out of stubbornness or embarrassment. But fear of ruining what they had. So she swallowed the word bitterly, and let what was hers and what was his exists in their separate spheres. They weren’t each other’s. They were just two people who fucked.

Sofia half-carried him out the party, face burning as she passed Kelce and Topper. She knew what they saw her as. And she hated it.

But Rafe breezed by without a care, his arm slung around her frame, his hands playing with hers as she tried to grasp on to him.

Eventually they reached his car.

Sofia had directed him to the passenger seat, and after a few grumbles and complaints, she managed to grab the keys from him.

Driving the BMW down the smooth-paved streets of Figure 8 was something Sofia loved. Rafe let her sometimes when she’d ask, otherwise he would drive them everywhere.

In the plush, leather interior, she didn’t have to fumble with a janky gearstick, or worry about stalling, like she did in her decades old car. She could just cruise, listening to Rafe’s soft sounds as he slept.

Once they reached Tannyhill, she’d woken him up and coaxed him to bed. Turns out drunk Rafe was even more of a wilful terco.

“Come on baby, let’s get you to bed,” she said, voice like velvet. Rafe eventually complied, ending collapsing on their– his– his bed.

He was out, chest rising and falling, mouth slightly parted. Sofia’s heart stirred. He was so pretty sometimes. When he wasn’t trying to appear threatening and tough. A sense of innocence settled over his relaxed features, that never seemed to shine through when he was awake.

Sofia pulled off his shoes before slipping into the en-suite to run a washcloth under the tap. She took a seat beside him, running the damp fabric across his brow.

The action caused him to stir, blue eyes blinking open, meeting her own stare.

“Sofiaaa,” he murmured, lips tugging up into an amused smile. His hands snaked over his body to meet her wrist as she dabbed the washcloth across his sweaty face.

“Raaafe,” she teased, mirroring his lilting tone.

“You’re so pretty, you know that right?” His words were breathy and low, barely audible despite the silence of the shadowy room.

“Thank you Rafe.” He moved her hands away from his face, so he could see her more clearly, hand still folded around her wrist.

“And you’re so kind and nice and fun. You make me feel good. Like real good.”

Sofia scoffed, letting the washcloth fall onto the bedside table, dropping his hand across his stomach. “I’m not sleeping with you Rafe so don’t even try it– you’re drunk remember?”

He just shook his head, “nahhh– Like you make me feel good here.” He tapped his hand against his chest, his fingers hitting the sternum where his heartbeat was.

He waited for her reaction, his dilated eyes looking like two wet marbles, his lips shiny with saliva and remnants of tequila.

Sofia’s gaze softened, her hand reaching out to caress the slope of his cheekbone, her thumb brushing against his face.

“You’re so sweet, cariño,” she hummed, smiling down at him.

“I love you Sofia. Like so fucking much, yeah?”

Her heart dropped, breath hitching in her ribcage. She stopped the gentle circles rubbing into his skin, but her hand remained cupped against his cheek.

He didn’t mean it. He was drunk. He was lying. He was teasing her.

But the way he looked up at her: Waiting. Anticipating her response to his words. His blue eyes flickering in the half-dark.

In the quiet of the bedroom Sofia chose to believe them.

“I love you too Rafe.” Her voice was quiet and high, bordering a rasped out cry. God, did it feel good to say. Sofia Flores was in love with Rafe Cameron.

His face broke out in a boyish smile, and for once he looked his age. Not like a man trying to fills his father’s shoes, sleep in his father’s bed, take over his father’s company. He looked like a boy in love– sappy and sweet and soft.

“Give me a kiss,” he instructed.

“You reek of alcohol.”

“If you loved me you would,” he huffed with a smirk.

Sofia laughed, eyes crinkling in the corner, “that’s not fair.” But she bent down anyway, her hair tickling his face, which he tucked away behind her ear.

“My pretty girl,” he mused, staring into her eyes, his own glossed over in a drunken haze.

“Mi niño lindo.” Sofia brushed a chaste kiss over his forehead, before moving off of him, realising he’d slipped into a steady sleep.

Sofia undressed, sliding into bed beside him. She nestled up against his body heat, her heart fluttering when he moved to bring her in closer– his hand slotted against the crook of her hip, his face nearing hers.

After that night, Rafe didn’t seem to remember his drunken love confession. But Sofia stored it inside her heart, tucked in between her own pulsating love for him.

The third time he said it was her birthday. Sofia hated birthdays. They were just a reminder of how she’d gotten nowhere in life. Still stuck in the shitty job she got when she was 18, still stuck on the Cut, still stuck living life for her family rather than herself.

Her parents had given her a hug and a kiss, and her little sister had made her a card. But as always, she then had to leave for her shift at the country club.

Sofia had let herself recognise the occasion, picking up half a dozen cupcakes for her and her colleagues. Ever since she’d spent more time with Rafe, Sofia had neglected her friendships with them. They’d smile at her and make small talk, but they never invited her back for drinks, or told her about parties on the Cut– she couldn’t have gone of course since she was busy with Rafe, but it would’ve been nice to have the option of declining. Sofia pushed away her trivial insecurities, and held the white box with shaky hands.

They’d all seemed chagrined when she told them it was her birthday– embarrassed they didn’t get her anything, embarrassed it slipped their mind, embarrassed that Sofia acknowledged their crumbling bond. But they still ate the cupcakes on their break before going back to letting Sofia skirt conversations and pretend to ignore them when they discussed their plans.

It was nearing evening and her day was coming to an end, when she spotted Rafe walk across the bar floor, a big smile on his face.

They hadn’t planned to meet today. But Sofia was relieved to see him regardless, finding herself mirroring his wide grin.

“Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were busy today?” She asked, already making his drink that she’d grown to memorise.

Rafe just shrugged, retaining that sly grin on his mouth, “I missed you. Are you busy?”

Sofia shook her head “only with work.”

He drove her back to Tannyhilly when she finished her final shift. She noticed he seemed effervescent, bubbling with energy: fingers tapping against the wheel, eyes darting everywhere, shoulders rolling back ever so often.

He led the way inside once they reached the house, Sofia heading up to the bedroom.

But Rafe stopped her. “Wait– follow me.”

Sofia quirked her eyebrows, “why?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, grabbing her by the hand, “just come on.”

Rafe took her to the kitchen, but before they went past the doors, he stopped, letting go of her hand and instead moving to stand behind her.

“What are you–?”

“Shh– just trust me.” And with that, he covered her eyes with his big hands and slowly pushed her into the kitchen.

Sofia giggled nervously, feeling Rafe’s tall figure crowd against her back. She’d honestly forgotten it was her birthday, so when Rafe’s hands fell from her face, letting her upon the candle lit table, a helium balloon that gently swayed, the bouquet of lilies and peonies that sat verdant in the centre, her heart faltered a little.

“Happy birthday Sof,” he said softly behind her, smiling down, watching her face intently.

“What– how– ?”

“I saw it on your ID once and kept a note of it. Was hoping you’d tell me, but you didn’t so I thought I’d surprise you.”

Sofia’s eyes roved over all the little details: the fancy china she’d never seen him use, the expensive bottle of champagne that was sitting there waiting to be opened, her name in swirling script across the balloon.

He took her silence as something negative, “you don’t like it. Fuck I’m sorry. This is weird isn’t it?”

Sofia quickly stopped him “no no no! This is so beautiful, I love it! It’s just that I never really do anything for my birthday– I’m just surprised that’s all.”

Rafe considered her words, a brief flash of confusion swiping across his face, “well sit down and I’ll serve dinner yeah?”

Sofia nodded, smiling up at him.

They finished eating (Rafe had gotten her pizza from her favourite spot), and they sat nursing their drinks at the table.

“I’m sorry you spent most your birthday working,” he suddenly said, starring at her with a piercing sincerity that unsettled her.

She simply just laughed, “don’t worry about it, I’m used to it.”

“I’m sorry for that. You deserve more.” They shared a brief glance that felt too long, the back of Sofia’s neck prickling in goosebumps.

“Wait I forgot one thing.” He got up, disappearing behind the kitchen counter.

“What?” Sofia arched her neck trying to see what he was doing.

“Can’t forget the birthday girl’s gift,” he teased, pulling out a wrapped present, complete with a bow and everything.

Sofia bit back a smile, her eyebrows softening at his giddy smirk. She accepted the gift gingerly, examining the golden wrapping paper that glowed in the dull candle light. She could tell he wrapped it himself– there was tape in places that didn’t need it and the paper was wrinkled slightly, as if he’d tried folding it multiple times. It was heavy too, Sofia’s arm sagging slightly when he handed it over.

“You didn’t have to Rafe,” she began, her cheeks turning pink.

He shushed her again, “just open it.”

And so she did, carefully tearing the paper, to reveal a box with golden clasps. She opened it, realising it was a vintage record player.

“Oh my god– Rafe you shouldn’t have.” Her eyes were glued on the near perfect finishings, the sheen of the leather and glint of the metal attachments. She’d mentioned ages ago about how much she loved records, when they were talking about what music they listened to. But she didn’t have a record player to play her collection, curated from lucky thrift store finds and countless trips to old music shops.

And Rafe still remembered? She was overcome with a heady verve.

“Do you like it?” He asked, as if he was almost shy.

“Of course! It’s literally perfect– thank you so much!”

Rafe chuckled, watching her with a soft smile as she fiddled with all the buttons, running her fingers across the smooth surface.

Sofia placed her new gift on the tables getting up so she could hug Rafe. He happily complied, lifting her slightly, and spinning her around. A bubbly giggle escaped her chest as her hands flew around his neck.

“Feliz cumpleaños, baby,” he murmured, putting her down on her feet, before hooking her lips with a soft, slow kiss.

“Love you,” he murmured against her lips, but clear enough so that she could hear every syllable. Her whole body became suffuse with a euphoric warmth as if it was injected into her by those words.

“Love you too,” she whispered back, kissing him again.

Their kisses grew hungrier and more desperate until he hoisted her up so her legs were entwined around his waist, one arm holding her up while the other pushed back her messy curls.

“You down?” He asked in between kisses which made her laugh.

“Yes I’m down,” she gasped, brushing her nose against his causing him to smile.

Rafe led Sofia onto the kitchen counter, placing her on the cool granite countertop, her thighs clenching at the cold sensation of it hitting her warm skin.

His lips enmeshed with hers, supping voraciously at the tender flesh, his teeth catching at her lower lip, inciting a throaty groan which he mirrored.

Rafe’s hands roamed wildly across her exposed skin, inching up her leg, bunching her blue work skirt up until it reached the line of her hips. He hooked his hands under the meat of her thigh, tugging her forward so she was at the edge of the counter. His lips licked lower and lower, kisses being peppered down the length of her arm, as Sofia watching in a lustful stupor.

Rafe lowered himself until his face was between her legs. He placed her hand, that was still in his, atop his head, forcing her to push him even lower. The sight of Rafe Cameron practically on his knees for her, made Sofia see stars.

He let go of her hand, Sofia rubbing a thumb across his tickling buzzcut, as he parted her pressed together thighs with a rough hand.

Rafe mewled as she scratched her fingers through his shorn hair and Sofia whined at the feeling of his hot breath fanning her skin.

“Got another gift for you too,” he said with a smirk, Sofia rolling her eyes, but the words lit a fire in her lower abdomen that flickered deep inside her.

“I love you Sof,” he said, quiet, dipping his head down between the valley of her thighs, kissing her warm skin with delicate lips. The kisses became coarser, until she felt teeth graze at her flesh, biting into her pillowy legs.

Sofia let out a hiss. He didn’t wait for her to say it back this time– as if it didn’t matter. He loved her and that was the only important thing.

Even if she wanted to say something, her words became caught in her throat, reserved to only exalted whimpers and strung out cries, as Rafe showed her just how much he meant what he said, leaving her a writhing mess on the kitchen counter.

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[pepperpixel]

💖STRANGE LOVE!💖

“the lightening’s not frightening when u r w me, oh cuz love is not always what u think it’ll be!”

CROMA!!!! Croma art!!!! Cuz I forever and ever adore these two together….. they’re so good…! 🥺

[quibbs126]

I had another thought with that one megop sparkling idea I keep bringing up but never fully committing to because I can’t decide on any one idea and at this rate I think I’m just annoying people

But yeah, I had another thought, one that I just thought was funny. I want to draw it out, but I’m lazy and also I have a test tomorrow that I have to study for, so I’m not doing it now. But I’m also impatient, so I’m giving you the bullet points/written version. If I’m sensible, I’ll take this post down after I finish the actual thing so I’m not too repetitive

Anyways, so there’s the kid, who is the child of the two leaders of the Autobot and Decepticon factions, and thus, potentially, holds a lot of value as a hostage and bargaining chip. Granted, I don’t know how known they actually are, there might just be a rumor going around that the two leaders have a secret kid somewhere

But anyways, someone (I don’t know who) gets the idea to capitalize on this, and afterwards calls up Optimus and Megatron, who are up to their usual things, claiming they have taken their sparkling captive and want some demands or other if the two ever want to see them again

Now both of them are very confused by this turn of events. Optimus has no goddamn clue what this guy’s talking about, because he’s pretty sure he knows the two of them definitely don’t have a sparkling. Megatron meanwhile does know they definitely had a sparkling, but he’s cycling through his head the possibilities of if this guy’s telling the truth. Because he was pretty sure no one knew about them, how did this person find out? How many people know? Do they really have their sparkling or is it just a trap to kill them? Or is it some idiot claiming this status, while probably not being aware there is a genuine one out there? Or did they just pick up an innocent bot who just happens to kind of look like them? How close is his secret to getting out, especially to Optimus?

But yeah basically meanwhile, while Megatron is somewhat internally panicking and trying to assess the most likely severity of this situation, Optimus is just like, “…I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about, Megatron and I don’t have a sparkling, isn’t that right Megatron?”, thinking Megatron is on the same page of this being absolutely absurd as him

But because Megatron is thinking and stopped paying much attention, he doesn’t answer at all. And the silence goes on long enough that it’s getting questionable, especially since Megatron isn’t jumping in to defend his own honor that he did not have a baby with his sworn enemy. His silence is starting to become an admission, and the possibility of this actually being legit is starting to freak Optimus out, because again, he doesn’t know about any of this

Okay explaining it out loud does not bring out the comedy the situation is supposed to have. Probably because there’s no visuals and my description of the narrative rather than just dialogue. So like, the comedy doesn’t happen like it’s supposed to, this isn’t the format for the joke. But the image is funny in my head, okay?

I’ll make the picture either tomorrow or Friday or something, since I have things to do tomorrow. I was just trying to explain it so that you could understand my vision before I can make it

[the-zestiest-milk]

30-something year old Sasuke and Naruto redesigns from the beautiful post-699 world that exists in my mind.

Here's a some layer variations because I went a little crazy

[rapidhighway]

the thing with sonic 3 is I can't even be too mad at it. I knew that was going to happen. i love action too much. sonic and shadow had a high speed chase, shadow did the akira slide up a fucking building and then they beat each other up on the moon man. i am a weak weak man when it comes to cool as fuck action scenes and they made that movie for me, I was partly blind to everything else that was happening tbh. I actually will have to rewatch this movie to say anything coherent about it

[narcissusneverknewme]

they wouldn't let me write the live action Disney adaptions because I would have had the best Ping you have ever seen. He and Shang would have had chemistry that took your breath away. They would be Yearning. the audience would be Yearning. it would be electric and terrifying and by marika would Mulan/Ping be hot. Shang is obsessed, the audience is obsessed. there would be hardly be a person in the attendance that doesn't Get where Shang is coming from. who wouldn't rend their clothes and scream to the heavens over Mulan/Ping. she takes no prisoners.

and yes, Shang kisses him in the snow as he cradles Ping's injured, dying body.

and yes, from the opening scene to the rolling credits he's going slowly mad.

and the first time you see Mulan she's dressed in the most feminine, floaty, light-colored dressy robes, with bone white makeup and painted lips and you fall in love with her. and there's something underneath, too. and it's so intriguing.

and then she shows up as Ping, and it takes a while to get used to, and it's kind of funny and awkward. but then it looks better and better to you. and soon you find you can hardly bear it when the camera turns away from him for even a second. and Ping isn't awkward to be around at all, he's stunning and brave and resilient and determined to be kind and you're desperately in love with him and you decide he looks incredible in the warriors' robes, actually. and his smile makes you want to kiss him. it makes Shang want to scream. and to kiss him.

and then comes the last leg. and she's got the gender-neutral robes, the "neutral" stage makeup. the loose updo. and you've never been as attracted to anyone in your life as Shang is to her. and you get it. you really, really get it. and wow the way the cuff of her sleeves and the silhouette of her robes make your heart clench. and the way her posture, her gait, make a new kind of sense. you can feel this is It. this is The Costume. you're obsessed and Shang is obsessed.

And then in the end, she's wearing pretty soft-colored robes and it makes you think for a moment that she looks like she did at the beginning. but then actually something makes her strength visible too. is it the cut of the costume? her posture? the framing of the shots? Yes it is. and you know, when Shang shows up, You know he can see it too. and he doesn't want to stop looking any more than you do. and he isn't going to even when you do.

every kid that ever watched my Mulan would recall it as Formative, like y'alls Danny Phantom but on the sickest steroids ever invented. She'd be irresistible. and so very gender.

[silvermeww]

for your Kalosian Woods AU, I have two questions! (1) what’s the direction you’re gonna take Amourshipping/Ash and Serena’s dynamic in? Their friendship along with the romantic subtext felt like it had a lot of potential in XYZ-proper but never really got utilized. And (2) how’re you gonna tackle Showcases? I’ve been meaning to work on a Showcase restructure but I’d love to hear your ideas :D

Hey there!!!!! For the first question, I 100% acknowledge the force of Serena’s crush on Ash in the XY series— even if I did tweak it so that she would fall after meeting him for the first time, watching him train for the Gym and having seen him fall off Prism Tower inspiring her to see him through tinted lens (and how it evolved from the admiration she had for him when they were kids so long ago). While XY anime itself had the weird notion of making everyone down for Ash (a terrifying scene after coming out of the professional haters of BW and literally every series before it) (ngl though I am a believer of the polycule + Bonnie idea lol, it exists in my heart), I can’t deny that side of Amourshipping even if I’m not a shipper myself or even much of a good writer for romantic relationships imo. In my AU I want to show how that love for him grows and eddies throughout the series: from their first meeting to taking up her own dream of showcases to seeing Ash lose himself in his endless hunt for strength— how she puts him on a pedestal because he was the first Trainer she knew, the strongest one she knew, and back then how she didn’t know better, relying on him instead of taking the risks herself and working with other people for a change. You’re absolutely right in the potential their relationship have in XYZ especially; with Serena coming to the tail end of her first Showcase season, ending up in the same place as before but with a totally changed perspective, and Ash fixating more than ever on being the best of the best, distancing himself from everyone else… and of course, all of that feelings and realisations coming to a head in Snowbelle, the Crisis, and the aftermaths. And also having both of them face each other at the end of it all and realising how much changed. I’m not really sure if I’m wording any of this right or if what I’ve said even makes sense heh, especially since I’m not too far ahead in this AU, but their friendship and that romantic subtext is definitely going to play a part in this series, and even if the plot details changes like the weather I’m going to do my best in keeping it as true to its potential as it should be (because a girl can be in love and also grow as a person, in spite and despite and even with it— you’ve just got to find the right angle).

(Also I’m going to have fun with that crush, so it might meet some light-hearted banter and miscommunications and all of that stuff. I mean, hey, these are kids on a journey lol. There are going to be awkward moments for everyone at some point, but they’ll grow past it as with everything else. Also fun memories. :P)

For the second question, wow, I’ve been giving it so much thought lol. I’m nowhere near the Showcases right now (although it is closer than what canon gave us in my AU) and yet it’s all I can do to plan for how it works. I have spitballed a few ideas with friends but for me (so far) I honestly want more of it to be outdoors. Showcases as a whole has this pesky problem of being a one-to-one copy of Contests but ‘declawed’ by having no battles, and it really gets me because if we’re discarding battles then we have to actually redefine Showcases as a whole— because the battle portion is the ultimate showing of precision and control with your Pokémon and their moves, which is what Contests are all about. Especially with AG and DP, we see examples of atypical Appeal rounds with Harley going for a more terrifying show of power, while Kenny (as :/ as a character as he was) goes for showings of strength— even though they are not ‘beautiful’ they still get to pass, because it really is about how your bond can perfectly translate to moves that can command the audience and grab their attention, naturally highlighting the Pokémon. With Showcases though, to me, they are more about creativity— about how a Performer can work with their Pokémon to get past certain obstacles which are based off a certain characteristic the Kalos Queen should have (the Theme round or whatever it was called lol) and then the Freestyle showing off what they uniquely bring to the table, their own brand, what they want to be remembered by (in which I thought that they could bring props to that originally but eh, that’s what my AU is for!). Sheesh, I went through such a big rant and I still feel fired up heh, but ig this is to say that since Showcases are about creativity, the outdoors location would be a great way to show how they deal with everything. On a sunny day, would they use Grass or Fire Types? Would they call out a Rain Dance and form a rainbow? Of course they wouldn’t actually have an open venue if it’s raining or snowing, but in different terrains can you see the characters stand out, I feel like. Also giving all sorts of Pokémon room like Flying or Ground. I have a bunch more ideas of course, about it being connected to PokéVision (still mad about how that concept got dumped) and having small events where people can get to know the up and coming Performers, getting hints for the Theme section so we don’t get the most unbalanced group of people and have a real competition (that always bothered me ngl), as well as other tweaks to that whole system. Showcases can be good in their own light, it’s just the rep of it being baby ‘only girls’ Contest (still thinking about the girls bit ngl) along with the stupid popularity bit of it (not that the concept is bad in and of itself, just that it should have a place and not be the be all end all of passing to the next stage) (it’s only good for the Freestyle, can I say that?) that makes it flop. Also because it came in so late and left so early. And the rivals kind of sucked because they weren’t given any time to grow. And the way Serena wasn’t challenged enough through them. So basically, I’ve got A Lot of thoughts about it and it’s going to be a headache to go through because it desperately needs a redesign to be viable in any way. But that’s the fun bit about an AU, isn’t it heh. Tell me about your ideas, I’d love to hear about them and thank you so so much for the ask!!! :D <33

[cobaltfluff]

where should they eat ???

[cogentranting]

The Hunger Games succeeds (and more so achieves sort of mythic effect) because it approaches dystopia through the timeless-- it (and Ballad) brings these universal ideas to a very personal lens and asks questions like "how do we begin to excuse evil in our lives" or "how do you hold on to goodness in the midst of oppression". And because it is so invested in the transcendent it lends itself to very powerful symbols, which give it that mythic feel.

Orwell's books (Animal Farm and 1984) both succeed through a very different approach to dystopia (Animal Farm isn't really a dystopia in the traditional sense but it has a lot of the elements). Orwell succeeds through real perceptive insight into the inner mechanisms of the subjects of his critiques. Orwell has vision that can cut deep into the way that things like propaganda or 'controlling the narrative' work and then, having dissected them, hold those tactics up for all to see.

And I think a lot of dystopias fall short because they get tangled up in the Idea of their story. The "what if" they've created. Either focused too much on the Issue-- too narrowly to be universal, too broadly to be revealing-- or too disconnected from anything genuine. And because they get stuck at that particular point they don't have much more to offer than "wouldn't this be bad?" And if you get a pretty good writer they can make that feel insightful but really it doesn't have much more to offer than whatever absurd YA book comes to mind first when you hear "bad dystopian novel".

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cherik hallmark movie au send tweet

reading this roused a visceral reaction within me im so sorry if you had something wholesome in mind