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#This Present Rapture
briarrolfe · 6 months
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Still thinking about the relevancy of rapture anxiety comics
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Reading this and shaking my head and repeating, "Not to be confused with Whore of Babylon"
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rad-roche · 5 months
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i can already tell this side profile is going to be really fun to draw
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aeide-thea · 2 years
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i wish there were more images of men photographed the way people so often photograph women, or women photograph themselves—soft, sensual, romantic, highlighting and enjoying underappreciated parts of their bodies in a way that felt like a lingering, loving, holistic journey and wasn't just an artless zoom-in on muscles or cock or whatever
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mail-me-a-snail · 2 years
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the funniest part about bioshock to me is that jack waltzes into a city of rust, sees a needle on the floor, and goes "is anyone gonna use that" and jams it into his arm without waiting for an answer
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silkchiffon · 7 months
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oh to give an in-depth presentation about a show
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vampirejuno · 1 year
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Ok one more thing.
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peacemore-springs · 4 months
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Caught Up In The Rapture
if we should all learn to live in the present moment and learn to stop clinging to a deluding past is this song entitled, Caught Up In The Rapture, the epitome of such a welcomed acknowledgement and gift?
Have a listen and love the experience of hearing such a great and compassionate song.
youtube
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nattousan · 1 year
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i love people's willingness to get hype over dumb shit.
I was driving home today and pull up to a light. As i'm slowing down i 👁️👁️ lock 👁️👁️ eyes with the dude in the car next to me. I spring into action, this is the moment I've been waiting for.
Now, something you must know about me is I drive around with several small plastic 🦀crabs 🦀 on my dashboard, One: for the whimsy of it all and two: on the off chance i encounter another driver who i think could benefit from witnessing them.
This young gentleman was one such someone.
As i pull up, as previously stated, our eyes lock and I hold up one☝️ finger☝️
Perplexed by my unprompted gesticulation, the young man rolls down his window, "what the devil could this perfect stranger be about to tell me?" he might have been thinking.
I present a singular dashboard crab, green and brown, homely but not without its charm.
I study his reaction, grinning encouragingly. He's nodding, obviously intrigued by my plasticine crustacean.
I wag my finger and shake my head, removing the crab from view. Confusion again, but he leans forward, invested. I have him now.
I grab my second dashboard crab, a rotund white and brown crab, easily the most beautiful of my crabs as it sports large discernible claws of an attractive size and silhouette.
✌️ TWO ✌️ i tell him.
He's cheering now, and rightly so, as these are delightful little beasts that anyone would be happy to encounter. But now comes the clincher, time to seal the deal.
My finger wags once more. He's awestruck, I have him completely enraptured. If a car had come and smeared us both into the pavement we would not have noticed, so wrapped up in my display were we.
I bring out my showstopper: a bright pink spider crab with delicately long legs the likes of which had never before nor since been seen in mid afternoon traffic.
As emphatically as i can express, I display all three of my dashboard crabs to this man, three fingers pressed triumphantly to the glass.
the guy is losing it in his car, mouth wide in what i assume to be a primal shout of crab derived excitement. His arms are pumping so vigorously its shaking his stationary vehicle.
We sit there, sharing in a moment of mutual jubilation, and then the light changes, and we move forward in line. He drives off, honking his horn in rapturous exultation,
and we part ways, exactly the same perhaps but changed nonetheless.
🦀
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ganond1lf · 1 year
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Sorry I’m annoying.
I swear I’m not mentioning trauma lightly, okay?
I have reached a conclusion.
I legitimately believe I have trauma from opossums.
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 months
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The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤
How it started :)
Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’
Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’
They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.
They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it  when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’ 
* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]
Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.
Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody
In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.
In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.
Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.
In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))
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Differences between the musical and the book
The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’
It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there. 
Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.
The Future?
What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.
There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.
Videos
Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))
Sizzle Reel 6min
Anathema singing The Perfect Place
Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound
Shadwell and Newt
Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀
Links
Webpage
Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)
How to support?
Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.
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lokisgoodgirl · 3 months
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Be Mine [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)
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The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.
For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.
It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.
The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.
“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”
His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’
Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.
The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.
Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.
Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly. “It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”
“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.” “Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”
Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.
“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head. “I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.” “There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.
“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.
“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.
“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.
Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.
Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours. “What?” he snarled. “Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing. An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.
“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted. “Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.
You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.
Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider. “You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable. “Huh?” “At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”
This time it wasn’t a question. “I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?” “He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?” There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.
“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.
“No.” Loki said. “Excuse me?” “No,” he repeated.
You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.
The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.
“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper. Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised. “I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.
“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.
You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.
You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.
His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable. Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?” “I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head. “I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”
He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.
“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.” Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.
The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.
“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?” You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut. “I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”
You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.
Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”
His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”
He raised his eyebrows.
Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.
“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”
The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.
Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.
In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.
“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”
“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.
His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher. “Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow. “More...” he rumbled. “I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”
His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?” You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.
“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.
A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.
Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.
“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.
Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.
Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last. Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.
“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.
Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.
“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants. “Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.
In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest. “Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,” You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.
“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.
You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.
“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.” “Or worse?” “You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.” You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”
Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.” Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.
“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”
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Taglist (continued in comments)
@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog
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zorciarkrildrush · 7 months
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I think the essence of what drives me crazy about current Enlightened Online Leftist Discourse Regarding My Life Personally And Whether This Time Killing Me Is Morally Correct (as in, commentary about the latest episode in i/p violence) is this:
I want a free Palestine.
I don't personally know a lot of people that don't! They might bristle at the tagline, because it's co-opted by people who do in fact want them dead, but as soon as I lay out why it's in literally everyone's best interest, how a non-free Palestine is horrific both to the people of Israel and to the people of Palestine, how pragmatically ridiculous the occupation of the west bank and the siege upon Gaza are (and I am a very pragmatic person), they get it. And I don't mean I debate people online about it - this, too, is a ridiculous concept - I mean having, time and time again, the deradicalization conversation with my friends, and colleagues, and my family. Obviously not only now - I've always been a very principled and argumentative Jew, ever since I became an adult - and I've been alive for, I don't know, a dozen flashpoints and operations and wars at this point, and I don't stop being argumentative and loud in peacetime either, but especially now.
But that's not what "from the river to the sea" means.
When you, gentle soul from across the sea, echo this slogan, you are either:
By apathy or will, ignoring that the sentiment cheers for the mass expulsion and killing of Jews. Indeed, any non-Muslim present from the river to the sea. This doesn't even begin to cover how even Muslim arabs still will not be safe under Hamas rule - and trust me, I don't care if a Hamas apologist told you different. A victory for Hamas (And we're ignoring the fact they do not have the military capacity for it - I hope you are aware of the privilege inherent to not understanding military conflicts) means exactly that. No "rule by the people". No socialistic, Palestinian utopia to be had, which is a fantasy I'm seeing alluded to a lot recently. Just an extension of the horrific power structure in Lebanon and Syria, where Hezbollah - friends and allies to Hamas - have been playing a tango for decades of both refusing to participate in actual government and betterment of civilian lives, while still draining their resources and controlling them with no real contest. "From the river to the sea" is not a sentiment for freedom fighting - it's a sentiment for a final solution to the people living here who are either Jewish, or for some Very Strange And Weird Reason would rather not submit to Hamas rule. You know - Israeli Arabs, secular and Muslim and Christian, Druze, Circassians, Bahai, take your pick. Their suffering, and my suffering - you know, a person who made the strategic error of being born in Israel while Jewish, which is inherently problematic and not okay of me - don't matter to you. Just the fantasy of an easy, morally correct cleanse of the land.
Are well aware of all of the above! You just don't care. You either smugly chuckle that I, and anybody else who will die, deserve it - or that it's an acceptable loss for the aforementioned fantasy. "Decolonization is an inherently violent process", you'll say to me, chillingly, before implying I have a summer home in Brooklyn I can just retreat to when things get tough. Israel is basically Rhodesia, a very popular blog here mentioned flippantly, so what's the issue with all of those lily-white Jews fucking off back home before the righteous freedom fighters strike them down? Well. This might be the part I urge you to open a book, or even Wikipedia or any god damn thing that will explain to you these upsetting, dense things you clearly struggle with.
So finally:
It's easy for me to discount islamophobes. Like, very easy. It's very easy for me to discount insane evangelistics who "advocate for me" simply because I'm a pawn in their religious rapture. It's easy for me to fight against Israeli and Jewish fascists - I have been long before this news item came across your feed, as did the insinuations that some civilian deaths are okay, actually.
It's easy for me for me to see promotions for donations to non-political aid in Gaza. It's easy for me to see the sentiment that hey! Palestinians deserve safe, healthy lives. That they have deserved an independent state, and were unfairly denied one, for decades. It's easy for me to see people saying "You know, the Israeli government is shit, actually, and their actions endanger and promote to the misery of innocents". Because that's right! I wouldn't be voting and protesting and donating for all of these sentiments otherwise!
It's not easy for me to see people, who I honestly held in high regard and saw having well thought out opinions on important matters, inadvertently echo the sentiment that my death is acceptable. That a terrorist organization, who rule over their own territory with fear and violence, are righteous freedom fighters, vox populi, only out to establish a free state. Like hey, their manifesto said otherwise, so it must be all there is - right? That Jews are just hysterical, they can easily live elsewhere - ever since that nasty holocaust business everything's fine abroad. Besides, it was just so long ago who even cares stop talking about it. Hamas, Hezbollah, ISIS, the Ayatollahs in Iran, the fucking Islamic Jihad - are not interested in freedom. They aren't, and echoing their slogan tells me you are either ignoring that, or support them anyway. If antisemitic rhetoric, half truths and lies by omission work on you today, they would have in any period of time. I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable. I'm not, not really.
Know what your fucking words mean. Have a cursory glance at the history of the MENA and why it's so fucked, one that doesn't boil down to "The Jews, with American help, rolled into where they don't belong". This isn't even a joke. I've seen this braindead, history-revising sentiment repeated so many times, both online and in actual textbooks, that I feel I'm going insane. So many well-meaning people handwringing and assuring each other that repeating genocidal slogans is fine, that calling the i/p conflict "a simple problem" (which means it has a simple solution, right? Just kill the Jews.) is a well-adjusted and intellectual take. That "only the Zionists should die! The rest will be fine :)" I dare you to say that and also give me a correct definition of what Zionism is. Why I, a Jew that advocates for Palestinian statehood and rights and safety and always have, won't also face the wall in your little fantasy.
Freedom to Palestine. Peace in the middle east, fucking yesterday.
A curse and a plague on those who don't want either of those, and just want to cheer on the death of "the other side".
A curse and a plague upon you, when you tell me, smugly, from somewhere safe and far away, "from the river to the sea".
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Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!
anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much
Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.
Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.
Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink
Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).
Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.
Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3
Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.
haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye
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sherlocksoft · 11 months
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Send You To Sleep Satisfied
Geralt x reader drabble
Summary: Geralt can’t sleep. Rather than settling for a restless a night, you offer an easy (and rather more pleasurable) solution.
Author’s notes: This is set at no specific time and has no particular context. I just wanted to give Geralt some comfort. Y’know, in a sexy way.
Warnings/content: nsfw - smut, handjob, gn!reader, exhausted and needy Geralt, extra lil gif at the end 🖤
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A large hand slid roughly over your stomach followed by a heavy, muscular arm snaking around your waist and dragging you swiftly backwards.
‘Geralt!’ you exclaimed, your heart racing before you realised it was him, ‘I was almost asleep! You startled me-’
‘M’sorry,’ came his muffled reply, his handsome nose already buried deep in your hair, nuzzling against the nape of your neck. He breathed you in, holding you close and sighing deeply. ‘Can’t sleep.’
Steadying your breath, you shifted within his firm embrace, smiling at the grunt of disapproval you elicited by taking away the comfort of your hair and your back pressed flush to his broad chest.
Another comfort soon replaced this, though.
‘I can help you with that,’ you cooed, watching with delight as his heavily lidded eyes slid shut at the warmth of your fingers slipping past the waistband his tight trousers.
A whispered little ‘Oh-’ slipped from between his pretty parted lips. ‘You… mmh… you don’t need to-’ It was hardly a protest, his voice heavy with lack of sleep yet laced with obvious desire.
You stilled then, his erection steadily growing harder against your now unmoving palm.
His eyes opened, sharp beneath a sudden frown. ‘You don’t need to, but… since you’ve started…’ A bead of precum oozed from his tip causing a whine to escape his throat before he could stop it. His eyes clenched tight shut in shame. ‘Don’t stop?’
A knowing smirk pulled at your lips. Geralt never could resist the promise of a good orgasm when the opportunity presented itself at such a perfect moment as this.
He was too tired to fuck. This, you knew. But you could pleasure him to sleep as he had done for you countless times, his elegant fingers or clever tongue or thick cock working their magic to soothe your exhausted body and allow your tired mind to rest.
Your fingers curled loosely around his length, pumping lazily to begin with, massaging his cock with a hint of tenderness that had him melting.
‘Shh, Geralt, focus on my touch. Float away on the sensation of your pleasure… let me send you to sleep satisfied, relaxed….’ you breathed, easing his tension away with your voice as much as your hand.
His strong fingers grasped at your arm, fingertips driving harder into your flesh as you wanked him faster. You hoped he’d leave bruises, marks you could show him tomorrow that might make him blush. He rarely blushed, but when a flush of crimson powdered his cheeks, it was certainly a pretty sight.
His hips began to rock in time to meet your movements and his breath grew heavy, interspersed with blissful moans. His cock throbbed inside your grip when your thumb swiped over the tip, collecting the thick offering of precum that had steadily built up there.
‘That’s it, I can feel it-’ you breathed, ‘let go.’
His forehead pressed to yours, breath hot and heavy and tingling against your cool lips as his muscles rapidly tensed, his toes curled and his back arched.
‘Fuck!’ he growled through gritted teeth as overwhelming surges of pleasure rushed through his core to bring about his release, and he repeated, in a much smaller voice as the rapture subsided, ‘… fuck…’
As his cock softened, sensitive with aftershocks, gently, you withdrew your hand and sealed your mouth to his.
‘We’ll bathe in the morning, love,’ you whispered with a smile against his lips, not caring a jot about the thick creamy rope that had made a mess of his trousers and stained your arm, sticky against your skin. ‘For now, sleep.’
Geralt grunted. The tell tale signs of sleep began to pull at his features as the rush of his climax fell away to lull him into a peaceful slumber.
He huffed, amused. ‘I’ve slept in worse conditions. Besides-’ a small yawn interrupted him, exhaustion and the bliss of post-orgasm haze slurring his speech slightly as he continued, slowly, ‘in the morning, before anything else… I will be busy… making you scream my name.’
And with that, the calming sound of his low snore took over; the heat that had pooled at your core content to remain there until morning. For now you watched him rest until you were dreaming yourself. You dreamed of him.
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mail-me-a-snail · 2 years
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i think (in a world where they all get to the surface) after tenenbaum turns delta back into a "human" johnny would go work in a garage :]
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