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artfulacrostic · 1 year

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the original series of star trek is absolutely my favorite thing bc every episode is like:

-kirk manhandles a penis shaped rock prop for a very long time

-spock dances flamenco

-sulu fences down the hallway shirtless

-episode plot is kirk v massive sentient lump

-kirk tries to explain spock's ears as a childhood accident where he got his head caught in a mechanical rice picker

-on an unrelated note, spock starts wearing a beanie

-redshirts get turned into like. cubes of salt

-uhura defeats a giant green hand by hotwiring the entire comms console

-spock and kirk hold hands

-scotty stops chekov from starting a bar fight with klingons only to immediately start one himself bc the love of his life (the enterprise) gets insulted

-mccoy's fantasies involve meeting characters from alice in wonderland, including a giant anthropomorphic rabbit

-spock's alien sex drive episode

-kirk gets bodyswapped

-gladiator fight episode (1)

-gladiator fight episode (2)

-gladiator fight episode (3)

AND YET, every episode is ALSO like:

-war cannot be reduced to numbers from an outside perspective, because that makes it easier to stomach without change; the horror that is war must be acknowledged in order to make room for peace

-more types of life can be extant than we can conceive, and just because they are different forms of life doesn't make them incapable of prospering

-love cannot be programmed or controlled, and discriminatory hatred is a tool only for death and pain

-cultures that are different than our own are valuable and can be vibrantly rich with history, and judging them before we try to understand and empathize is not only reductive but contemptible

-happiness is something that we have to allow ourselves, and actively seek out, because it can't come to us without work and acknowledgement of our own state of being

-genocide can never be justified, and certainly not even to supposedly save the people that are more "valuable" by any given metric over those who are not, because all lives have worth

anyway the balance of absurdity and meaningfulness gives me life, and we haven't even gotten started on the whale movie lmao

#star trek #star trek the original series #james kirk #spock #star trek tos #mister spock #leonard mccoy #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #pavel chekov #montgomery scott #r speaks #tos is everything to me #it's literally insane #some things obviously didn't age as well as others but like overall? wow #the complex themes and character moments just get to me amidst all of the tropey moments #okay???

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ctommyisnt · 3 months

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‘YOU CANT SHIP SCARIAN OR ERHUBS IN LIMLIFE THEYRE RELATED 😭😭😭😭😭 ITS SO WEIRDDDD’ it’s called a bit. You ever heard of those. A bit. Hey. Hey. Look at me. It’s called a bit. Do whatever the fuck uou want it’s Minecraft roleplay nobody actually cares. Nobody cares. A bit.

#every time I go onto twitter I see another batshit take #like #HOW DI YOU XOME FOTHIS CONCLUSION #they said they’re a family so if you ship them in this specific series you support incest and are a horrible person #!??????#ummm??#okay???#let me draw my scarian in peace I don’t give a shit #also who said they were cousins what’s going on

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madame-mongoose · 6 months

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um uh uhm um uhhh uh um uh *cat explode gif*

#im going to DIEEEEEE #NOOOOBODY LOOK AT THID #OKAY???#OKAY #BYE #BYEE #selfship #uh #wheatley #my art

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halfagone · 6 months

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Let Gotham Be Terrifying

I've seen many different takes and versions of Gotham, but I would love to play into the fact that Gotham is the second most crime-ridden city in America. That's right- Gotham, for all its horrible cruelty, still does not compare to Blüdhaven. But that doesn't make it any less terrifying, especially to newcomers.

I know a lot of people say that Amity Parkers would be desensitized to the Rogue attacks, because of the ghosts that constantly haunt the streets. But I think they would actually be more horrified of Gotham because of the ghosts.

Because here's the thing about Danny's Rogues Gallery. For all intents and purposes, they don't actually want to hurt people. The ghosts might not be harmless, but neither are they expressly malicious.

The Box Ghost? Give him some of your leftover cardboard from when you were moving apartments, he'll appreciate them and leave you alone for a while as a thank you. If you catch him at the right time, he might even be willing to lend a helping hand. With the promise of the boxes afterwards, he doesn't do work for free after all.

Lunch Lady? You'll see her at the soup kitchens or the food banks lending a helping hand; sometimes she even gets invited to the soccer games to act as hostess and she makes the best main dishes. And her dessert? People have made remarks that they're to die for, which is more than a little insensitive but hey, still true.

Ember McLain? Phantom's made a deal with her: so long as she keeps her mind control out of her music, she can play however much she wants. They hold weekly concerts in the park, you just gotta make sure everyone scatters by the time the Fentons arrive, and don't say shit to the GIW when they come around asking, and everyone comes out of this happy.

Kitty and Johnny? Sure, their arguments always cause a ruckus, and it can be more than a little awkward to watch a couple scream at each other in public. But if you're willing to lend a kind ear to Kitty when she's upset, she's far less likely to lash out and hurt people as a result. As for Johnny, let him do a couple laps around town and he'll get his head on straight. If the Red Huntress doesn't do it for him, of course. And when they're on good terms, you'll sometimes see them walking about town, holding hands and just having fun. Sometimes they'll buy some ice cream or other treats from stores. No one really knows where they got the money, but it's legit and no one feels the need to turn them away, if they're respectful about private property.

Youngblood? He's a bit brash and immature, but sometimes you'll catch him hanging out with Phantom playing astronauts. Sometimes you'll even see him hanging out with that girl Phantom playing cowboys. He likes to play at the parks and playgrounds with the other kids his age. And yeah, sometimes he hogs the toys a little too long, but he's the best storyteller the kids on the yard have ever seen. He's a great playmate once you get the hang of it.

As for Skulker... eh, he and Phantom have their fights but honestly, it's the collateral damage that causes more problems than the ghosts themselves. The morning commute should not take this long.

Spectra got ran out of town forever ago and at this point, people can recognize her on sight. If your mental health has taken a startling downturn, contact one of the helplines and if worse comes to worst, reach out to Phantom to make sure she's not sticking her nose where no one wants her.

Desiree- watch your mouth and stop saying the word 'wish' and you're set for life. She can be petty sometimes, but again, that's why you watch your mouth.

For 7 out of the 9 cases here, the ghosts don't actually mean much harm. Other, more powerful ghosts like Vortex or Nocturn don't come around often. They might think Phantom is a little bitch, but they respect his territory. They would do the same if they were in his place. Predator acknowledging predator, as I like to say.

But that's the distinct difference. The ghosts can be bargained with, reasoned with. If you give them some other outlet, more often than not they're willing to take it and don't bother anyone first.

The Gotham Rogues on the other hand? There is no indulging the Joker or Black Mask or Scarecrow. In some cases, even when Mr. Freeze's wife is cured or he's finally let her go, he still keeps to his life of crime. What about Harvey Dent? Zsasz? Manbat? A lot of these Rogues cannot be reasoned with.

And this isn't even including the drug dealers and the muggers and the traffickers. This isn't even including the corrupt police and the even more corrupt local government. This isn't even including the likes of the Court of Owls and the rich and elite that run the show. This isn't even including the League of Assassins, who've always had a vested interest in the city.

And isn't that sad? Doesn't that say something when the living are crueler than the dead?

So give me a Danny or a Jazz or a Tucker or a Sam- any Amity Park citizen you want- that is disturbed by the thoughtless destruction and murders. Give me a Jazz that takes one look at the Arkham Asylum patients and is unnerved by their incapability to change. Give me a Danny that visits Gotham one time to lend a hand, and by the end of it, he turns to Batman and he says, "I don't know how you do it."

Because this is a family of vigilantes, who all besides one, do not have powers. They have to cover a city filled with millions of people, watch over them every night, and try to stop any possible terrible atrocities. Because even if every single member of Batman's Rogues Gallery suddenly dropped dead, Gotham has far deeper issues than just them. That is why Batman's crusade is endless. That's why it's not as simple as flicking a switch.

Gotham is terrifying. And what does it say when the Batman can put the fear of god into a city like that?

Batman is terrifying, and I think sometimes that can be a reminder to us all.

#dpxdc #dpxdc headcanon #dpxdc au #i just have a lot of feelings #about a terrifying gotham #and an even more scary batfamily #okay???#long post

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talistheintrovert · 1 year

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there's something so inherently queer in the way The Eighth Sense is being acted and ESPECIALLY in the way it's being filmed, and the cinematography and editing choices that keep taking my goddamn breath away.

the almost pain in the longing of short, broken glances to avoid being caught staring, the eyes darting over his whole face instead of lingering too long on his eyes or lips, the tentative broaching of conversation and testing of boundaries that only happens with that level of anxiety in a queer relationship

the constant fear of "what if he's not?" "what if i'm mistaken?" "what if i step too far?" which straight people rarely have to worry about, because at worst if you ask another straight person out you'll get meanly turned down, but if you're queer and you ask a straight person out the reaction could be SO bad, so you're scared and you're withholding but you're just WANTING

there are whole scenes where their friendship is clearly blooming and they both forget their sexualities and they're just having fun like they do with other people

and then there's always a moment where it THUDS back home again. the wetsuits. the showers. outside the bar. on the beach. where they're both so clearly HYPERAWARE of themselves and each other and feeling so exposed and so so scared but still desperate to be near each other

jaewon and jihyun are in parallel states of just YEARNING so badly that it makes my heart ache and my breath catch every time one of those scenes appears

#the eighth sense #kdrama #I'M BEING REALLY NORMAL ABOUT THEM #OKAY???#i'm going to start biting things #i cannot stop thinking about the subtle acting choices #and the really deliberate and unsubtle cinematography #nothing has ever portrayed the intersection of queer interest and queer fear SO well #i'm going to walk into the ocean

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50stressballs · 1 month

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Really wish all the “low impact” exercise routines I find weren’t hyper focused on like squats and lunges and shit. Like bro, my knees DO NOT WORK. They simply do not function properly. If I do 15 squats today I’m not going to be able to walk properly for literal days.

…….but like I’m so tired and I NEED to work out to help with my fatigue, and I don’t have the attention span for yoga right now. So I do the five bajillion squats anyway.

And I’m stupid so I forget that that’s a bad idea, so when I’m in an incredible amount of pain just walking up and down the stairs for the rest of the week, I’ll be like

#what I’m really saying is I wish I wasn’t so stupid #because I know this is absolutely a me problem #and I’m probably going to do it again today #but I need ENERGY #okay???#chronic pain #chronic fatigue #disabled #disability #joint pain #muscle pain #knee pain #lupus #autoimmine disease #chronic illness #chronically ill

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bluewinnerangel · 1 year

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We're talking away

#I DONT KNOW WHAT IM TO SAY ILL SAY IT ANYWAY #TODAY IS ANOTHER DAY TO FIND YOU #SHYING AWAY #ILL BECOMING FOR YOUR LOVE #OKAY???#TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE ONNNNNNNNN MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #TUDUDUDUDUTUTUDUDUDUTUTUTUTU #my art #so demy what did u do this morning #idk speeddrew louis 42 times hbu

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swampthingking · 9 days

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i think we moved on from this too quickly—

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ninacarstairss · 1 year

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ok but when are you going to give us this crow photoshoot?? WE KNOW IT EXISTS

#i need this now okay?#I NEED IT #ALONG WITH THE SPIN OFF ANNOUNCEMENT #OKAY???#six of crows #shadow and bone #grishaverse #amita suman #freddy carter #calahan skogman #danielle galligan #jack wolfe #kit young

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mrsfitzgerald · 9 months

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poland 🤭

#rammstein #paul landers #richard kruspe #paulchard #okay???#it's probably better for me not to know what that means #🤭😆😆#such a dorks #💖💖💖#my ramm gifs #stadium tour 23

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waffle-bubbles · 3 months

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I said I liked musicals, and some guy said "I haven't seen a single good one"

#okay???#I'm tagging all my favorite musicals #falsettos #hedwig and the angry inch #kiss of the spider woman #epic the musical #into the woods #fun home #parade #something rotten #little shop of horrors #the lightning thief #I could go on #musicals

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garnetislovegarnetislife · 8 months

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#sansa stark #alicent hightower #game of thrones #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #i am taking them away from you #so few of you can be trusted with them #before anyone is like ‘what about cersei/rhaenyra’#dont get me wrong #ive seen a lot of misogynistic takes about them #but sansa and alicent in particular stand out as being in contrast to another character #who are much more noncomformist #arya and rhaenyra stans are so righteous about their favs being these feminist icons and believe that shields them from being able to sexist #but then theyll turn around and spew takes that are laden with misogyny #im not saying theyre exactly feminist icons #alicent in particular is a victim of the system’s mistreatment of women who then perpetuates that #but that doesnt mean being misogynistic towards them is just #okay???#anyways this isnt a new or very relevant take #just something ive been thinking about #its adjacent to my ongoing ‘asoiaf/got/hotd fans have nuance in your opinions and takes’ challenge that has been following me #also inb4 anyone is like ‘oH lOoK sTaNsAs/AlIsTaNs At It AgAiN’ im not a STAN of any character in these stories #w the exception dunk egg and elaena

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letters-unsending · 7 months

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No. 38

////

Villain is disguised as a Hero and Superhero takes them to a safe house.

////

Villain had only ever seen Superhero from afar. He was a sharp line, silhouetted in red by the rising sun on the eve of battle. He was a streak of gold, tearing through opposition with a sure hand. He was a squared figure with shoulders pulled back, hands curled round and claiming the podium in front of him as he addressed the crowd with a voice that bellowed chest-deep.

Walking beside him felt like trespassing, like treading the line between concept and reality, and Villain startled as Superhero squeezed his shoulder.

“We’re almost there. It’s right down this street.” Up close, quiet, Superhero’s voice lost its bold tenor. It was soft, scraping, catching along each word like the gravel under their heels. The sound slid down Villain’s spine, too textured, too real and the pressure of Superhero’s hand suddenly screamed into his nerve. Villain held back every instinct to wrench himself away. Trapped beneath his sternum, fear writhed like a dog with a frothing mouth.

“Sounds good,” Villain hummed. He let his body rise back into Superhero’s palm and recalled each bone below. He thought about the thin, winding clavicle and the curved back of his scapula; he thought about the tendons and muscles drawn between. He thought about how easily Superhero could choose to clamp down and shatter him all the way through.

Superhero drew his hand away and Villain sagged, tucking his sigh of relief into a shallow cough as he lingered a few steps behind. It was easier this way, to stare at his back, to break him down into the line of his spine and the breadth of his shoulders. He wondered how many steps it would take for Superhero to completely dissolve into the distance. The clouds of ash would smear him grey and formless. The wasteland would enfold him.

Superhero turned, debris churning beneath his boot, “are you coming?”

“Yes.” A hound cried in the distance. Villain jogged forward.

////

The safehouse had only lamps for light. Superhero set one on the table and wiped the oil from his fingers as the flame flickered in its glass shell, casting a molten, wavering glow over the small room. He sighed and sunk into an old armchair. Like the couch Villain was settled in, its cushions were clotted with dust and soured by mildew, but Superhero slumped into it all the same, tilting his head back toward the yellowed ceiling tile.

Once more, Villain’s stomach jumped at the wrongness of the sight. Superhero belonged in throne rooms, with a mantle of velvet cast over his shoulder and a crystal wine glass pinched between his fingers. He should’ve only been visible in the fullest light, rendered in sharp edges and planes, constructed in poise and power, and nothing more.

The rusty light and warm shadow sunk Supervillain further into the chair. Flaring, the glow licked across his knuckles as they rolled and tensed, and Villain discovered that the back of his hand was scraped raw. The darkness implied scratches and furrows, but Villain couldn’t see the blood; the shadows were too rich and flushed in the lamplight for the red to show.

But Superhero could see blood. Of course, he could see, with those inhuman eyes, animal pupils swollen black in the dark.

“You’re bleeding.”

Villain's brow twitched. He knew where the cut was; a bright line of pain arced from his ear to the base of his skull. At first, he’d thought it was sweat, slipping down his neck, but it was warmer, slower, and grew tacky as it seeped into his collar.

“It’s fine,” Villain replied, tongue dry, not daring to look away from Superhero. He focused on the shadow beneath Superhero’s brow. It deepened as Superhero frowned, sinking into the folds of his skin.

Superhero tilted his head and dragged his gaze across Villain, slow, methodical, and keen. Villain’s arm was thrown over the arm of the couch and his spine bent to accommodate the sagging fabric behind him, which cast his legs in a long and languorous sweep. It should’ve been an easy posture, but Superhero saw the hard, locked angles of his joints. He saw the way Villain kept his head from hitting the cushion, neck straight and jaw drawn so tight it made his cheeks ache.

“It’s safe here,” Superhero assured and Villain almost bared his teeth, “you can relax. Once headquarters receives our distress call, they’ll come and retrieve us. It’ll take no more than a few days.” Superhero’s voice was soft again, softer than it was on the walk there. The syllables slinked, lifting the hairs on his arms.

Safe. Villain pushed his tongue against the back of his teeth, staving off a grimace. How safe could it be, sitting alongside a man steeped in shadow–a man who could rend the very room in ribboned halves?

“I am not used to battle,” Villain’s breath cracked, and he wished it was fake. He wished that each pitching breath was for show, rather than real fear leaping onto his tongue. “I’m terrified,” he looked up and Superhero stared back, “scared of it all.”

Superhero rose from his chair and Villain curled further into his seat, tucking his heels beneath the underside of the couch. “I’m fine,” blood slithered down behind his ear, “just nerves. Everyone gets a little shaken up after a big battle.”

The lamp flickered, flame jumping as Superhero bumped into the table and settled on the couch beside Villian. Fabric rustled. Dust floated up around Superhero’s thighs, glimmering like floating embers in the light before drifting down to his feet.

“Your fear doesn’t make you weak. You don’t need to excuse anything.” He settled a hand on the couch, leaning forward. His face was stiff, focused; his sclera burned orange. “There’s no shame in injury either.” Villain glanced down Superhero’s knuckles, finally able to follow the red–dark, deep, and ripping all the way into his forearm, disappearing between the torn fringes of his sleeve.

“I believe we’re both guilty in that regard,” Villain whispered. He willed his sternum still, scarcely breathing.

“Yeah,” Superhero smiled, keeping his eyes on Villain’s, “it’ll heal fine though.” Superhero leaned further on his arm. Villain wondered if it hurt, wondered if Superhero even felt the blood slipping down the side of his palm and onto the cushion. “Do you mind if I take a look at your head? You’re probably going to need to bandage it. Head wounds are never pretty.”

Villain had pushed so far into the end of the couch that the side of his leg burned, but Superhero was still so near. His weight spilled over, sinking into the space strung between them, and Villain felt his presence like a phantom touch, clutching his shoulder and cupping his ribs; awareness blazed along his side. Villain blinked. He breathed through his teeth and Superhero waited in perfect stillness, predatorily calm.

“Sure.” He turned his head toward the wall and offered his up his ear. In front of him, there was a window, cracked, fogged, and warped with age. Water had broken through and rotted the mantle. He tried to follow the dripping lines where rain had eaten through the wallpaper and spliced it into wilted silver whisps, but his vision swam, trying to climb back into his head, into the weeping wound.

“Do you mind if I move your hair?” The couch creaked. Superhero shifted closer.

“Whatever helps,” Villain spoke to the spiderweb fractures in the window. He listened to Superhero’s breath, then felt it as it washed over his blood-matted curls, a warm, dragging breeze.

His first touch was tentative. Fingers whispered into his scalp, slipping across his skin like a sigh. Villain should’ve flinched, should’ve lurched, should’ve done anything to snap the tension corded and coiled in his chest, but Superhero’s terrible hand was tender. Villain could only spill forward and clutch the arm of the couch. The fabric scraped against his palm.

“That bad?” Superhero asked, touch retreating as Villain slumped away.

“Just getting comfortable,” Villain whispered. Any louder and he felt like he would choke. Again, he tilted his head and proffered his hurt for display.

Superhero was firmer this time, parting his hair, letting the wound breathe. As Superhero prodded the hot, bruised skin running astride the cut, Villain exhaled and rested his chin on the top cushion, looking at the window again. The glass had taken a silver sheen, misted with the onset of rain. The first droplets carved delicate white arcs downward before settling in the broken seams and divots.

“Someone got a pretty hard hit on you.” Superhero noted, finding that purples of the bruise spread much farther than the neat tear. Villain knew that much. Supervillain had grinned before swinging the iron end of his staff into the base of his skull.

Villain hummed in affirmation.

////

“You’re bleeding.” Villain echoed the statement, much later. The candle had burned out sometime during the night, and white morning light washed through the room in its stead. No longer warm, no longer tucked into the bed of shadow, Superhero leaned back into his chair in an arrogant sprawl. He should’ve looked untouchable again, divinely separated from the world around him.

But his fist trembled against his stomach, bunched in his shirt.

The cloth was stained. Terrible. Red.

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