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#they're out of order but whatever

goryhorroor · 1 year

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giallo horror: the genre of zooming in on eyes

phenomena (1985)

opera (1987)

the bird with the crystal plumage (1970)

tenebrae (1982)

suspiria (1977)

a bay of blood (1971)

dressed to kill (1980)

inferno (1980)

the beyond (1981)

black sabbath (1963)

#they're out of order but whatever #giallo horror #phenomena #opera #the bird with the crystal plumage #tenebrae #suspiria #a bay of blood #dressed to kill #inferno #the beyond #black sabbath #horror #horror movies #moviesedit #horroredit #filmedit #cinema

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happyk44 · 3 months

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The thing was Percy didn't like being a bad kid. Every time he got kicked out of a school or wound up in the counselor's office over some incident he wasn't completely blameless for, his mom's brows would pinch. The line on her lip dipped. He knew what she was thinking each time: lost wages, job risk, who was going to watch him if he got suspended, where would she send him if he got kicked out, and so on.

He hated that he did that to her. Being a bad kid meant being a bad son. He refused to be a bad son - not on purpose anyway.

Well, he used to. She wasn't here anymore. Her brows weren't going to furrow. Her lips wouldn't thin. Her shoulders wouldn't draw up and tense before the principal even opened their mouth. It was over.

He didn't have anyone anymore. Nobody at cabin eleven would look at him. Other cabins steered around him like he was carrying the plague. Grover was off doing whatever satyrs did - probably getting ready to infiltrate some new school, befriend some new kid, save their lives. He didn't need Percy. It’d only been a few days but they'd barely interacted. Older satyrs would yank him along into the wood before Percy could get close or even open his mouth. Even Annabeth just eyed Percy with scrutinizing eyes - like she was assessing him for something. But every time he tried to approach her outside of their lessons, she brushed him off.

No one wanted Percy around.

What was the point of being a good kid anymore? There wasn't anything or anyone forcing him to keep his head above water. He was tired of the murmurs. He was tired of the avoidance. Tired of the glares from the Ares cabin. Tired of trying to keep the quake in his stomach tamped down.

He was just tired.

He thumbed along the flat edge of his sword. His new best friend was the pervasive feeling of loneliness. With a miserable sigh, he tucked the sword into the holster on his hip. People barely wanted to spar with him now so he was stuck to sweating it out on the dummies by himself. At least only when Luke wasn't pushing him as hard as possible.

But even with Luke there seemed to be pause. The first time Percy felt his gut yank after being claimed had been in training with Luke, and as soon as the feeling caught him, Luke begged off. Like he'd seen something in Percy that unnerved him. Sometimes when Percy looked in the mirror, he saw something in his eyes that unnerved him. A foreign thing - like a contact lens put in the wrong way.

No amount of poking or prodding at his eyes was going to get it out though. It was inside him - in his blood. He was sure of it.

He was starting to worry that it was the very thing he'd been keeping back, the very thing his mom was trying to keep him safe from.

The clang of metal against metal was loud as he walked past other trainees. There were a couple people leaning against the wall near the water fountain. As expected, they shifted away as he neared. Mistrust was bright in their eyes.

He did his best to ignore it. Not the first time people had stared at him like they thought he was dangerous. Or beneath them.

The water sprayed for a moment before he lowered his head. It was clarifying. He'd noticed it before, a burst of energy with every sip whenever he was tired, but ever since being claimed, he'd noticed the alertness more and more.

As he let go of the button, he caught the tail end of the muttering nearby. His stomach dropped.

“... should've ditched him sooner,” one boy grumbled. His friend snorted. “Maybe then she wouldn't have died.”

“What did you say?” The two startled. Percy understood why. He barely recognized his own voice, the eerie coldness to it frosty on his own tongue. Still, he repeated as he twisted on his heels to face them. “What. Did you just say?”

Panic besot them. For a second, the barest of a second, he could feel it kick in - be a good boy for me, Percy, be a good kid for Mom.

But she wasn't here.

She wasn't here.

So what was the point?

He took a step forward. “What,” he snarled, saliva coating his tongue like froth, “did you say?”

The others shifted away but he just crept forward. “Nothing, man,” one of them finally bit out, but they were lying. He could see it in their eyes, hear in their voice, feel it in their veins.

“You're lying,” he said. A bitten off laugh echoed from his lips. “You were talking about my mom.” Another choked laugh. “You think it's my fault?”

One of them raised his hands - a mock surrender. “Hey, dude-”

“You think I wanted her to die?” A sharp sensation coiled through Percy's chest. It thrummed hot and heavy, piling, piling, piling on his lungs. “You think I asked for ANY OF THIS?”

Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder and it was like the crashing of the waves against his bare feet. Cold, clarifying, clear.

Freeing.

His fist drove straight into the jaw of whoever was behind him. He could barely tell who he was seeing - it might've been Luke, or any other tall blonde guy. But as soon as whoever it was stumbled back, he whirled around and punched whichever kid was closest in the stomach. They went down and he clambered on top to wail. Fist and fist upon whatever body part he could reach. He wasn't the most elegant hand-to-hand fighter but there was something to be said for the voracious and vicious energy boiling through him.

Distantly he was aware of yelling around him, aware of people pulling at him, aware of the person beneath him crying, arms over their face, arms Percy was tired of hitting. He needed to get their face, get their tongue, rip his mom from their mouth. How dare they speak about her.

How dare anyone talk about her.

A dozen hands finally yanked him back. He screamed. Bodies toppled. He grabbed the closest one by their hair, driving his knee upwards over and over again until hands ripped him away again. Swung blindly and caught someone. The two of them fell. His stomach pulled back. They choked. They weakened. He swung himself over until he was on top.

I want you all to drown, he thought, grabbing at their jaw. Don't ever speak of her again.

Saliva smeared across his fingers. His stomach pulled back even more. What was that - blood, water? On his hands, on his knees, on their skin, on their faces, in their veins.

His free hand drew out. He wanted it. It was his. Didn't they get that? She was his, and she was gone, so he would take and take all else that belonged to him until the hole in his chest was gone. Until the water they had coursing inside them filled him up.

“Percy,” someone whispered.

Their voice was familiar, breath hot against Percy's ear. He twitched. The feeling of nearby water, nearby fluid, was clenched tight in his fist. He just had to pull back. Yank it. Make it his.

The voice turned pleading. “Percy.”

He froze as two hot hands came to clasp his cheeks, dark brown eyes and curly hair blurring into view. Grover's face.

“Grover,” he breathed. For the first time since he'd ended up at camp, he relaxed.

Grover's thumbs stroked his skin. “Yeah, it's me.” He leaned in closer. “Percy, you need to stop.”

“Stop?”

“You're hurting people," he said. “You have to stop.”

Why? Percy thought. He didn't care. He didn't care if they hurt, didn't care if they drowned where they laid choking, didn't care if they suffered. It didn't mean anything to him. They didn't mean anything to him.

But this was Grover.

And with his mom gone, Grover meant the world.

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Grover said. His breath was warm, his skin hot, his body close. Distantly Percy remembered nights at school like this - Grover tucked up next to him, trying his best to help Percy study when most people would've bailed. “I want you to stop.”

His lips were wobbling. His eyes were thick with wetness. His voice was unsteady - trying to be calm and rapidly failing. Even his hands shook.

Percy grabbed at his wrists. “Okay,” he whispered as he clung. His stomach relaxed slowly, the crash turning into a tickle. “I'm good, I'm good.”

Shakily, Grover exhaled, pressed his forehead to Percy's, and murmured, “I know, I know.”

His hands pulled away from Percy's face, but not away from him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. Percy's breathing wobbled as he tucked his face into the crook of Grover's neck. He clung tight and desperate. Pleading.

No, he couldn't be a good son anymore. He didn't have to bother keeping in check to avoid the thin line of his mom's lips. But he could be a good friend. To keep the tears out of Grover's eyes, the tremble from his skin.

“I can be good,” he promised quietly, for Grover's ears only. “I promise I can be good.”

“I know,” Grover said. His cheek pressed against Percy's. “I believe you.”

The fountain nearby trickled quietly. The steady flow soothed the unease between Percy's shoulders. Still, he squeezed the pillow in his grip tighter to his chest as he watched Grover flit around the bunk closest to him. He snapped the final end of the sheet around the mattress. Hooves clopped quietly against the tile as he stepped back. His gaze flickered between Percy's bed and his own.

Then he grunted and began pushing it closer.

Percy hopped up. The discarded pillow slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. He nearly tripped over it trying to get to Grover's side. They pushed the other bunk over until it was pressed into Percy's.

While Grover unfurled his blanket, Percy stepped back. Awkwardness choked him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. So he picked the pillow off from the floor and pressed it into his chest. Grover didn't spare him many glances as he worked to make up the bed. Leaning across his bunk, he yanked Percy's blanket from between the seam where the two bed frames connected and began tying the edges of both blankets together. It was shoddy work, no way it wasn't coming apart just from them lying on the sheets, much less sleeping.

But Grover did it anyway.

As he shifted back, hooves scraping the floor, Percy held out the pillow. Grover dusted off the top then laid it against the headboard. With both hands on his hips, he admired his work. Percy stared at it too. It was nice. Joined bed. Grover within direct reach.

His palms itched.

“Are you scared of me?”

Grover twisted around. His brows furrowed, but the edges of his lips were quirked upwards. It was reminiscent of school - Percy stumbling over something he read and Grover, lost but amused, over why Percy thought it was a man-of-war that Theseus fought.

He was partially grateful Grover cut him off before he could finish what he actually thought the sentence was trying to say. It certainly wasn't fight.

“I mean,” Grover started and Percy's stomach drew back. Behind him the trickle of the fountain silenced. Like the water was holding its breath too. “I'm scared for other people, but I'm not scared of you.” He punched Percy's arm with a quiet smile. “I know you're not going to hurt me, Percy. That's why I stopped you.”

The fountain began to trickle again. “And that-” He faltered. The ghost Grover's touched goosed up his bicep and across his shoulder. “-that doesn't worry you?”

That you might have to stop me again went unspoken but Grover was always good at understanding Percy's unspoken words, at knowing his unspoken feelings - even the ones Percy wasn't even aware he felt.

He sighed. “It worries me. But not because it's you.” He shook his head. “And definitely not because I'm scared of you hurting me.”

His eyes scanted away, brows furrowing deeper. Then he relaxed into the bed. After teetering on his heels for a couple seconds, Percy joined him. He gripped the edge of his shorts so tight his palms burned. Grover reached over to stroke along the back of his hand.

He exhaled slowly and let go.

“You remember Pan?” Grover asked.

Percy paused. “The satyr god, right?”

“Yeah.” Grover pulled away to tug at his fingers. “He's been missing for a while. Ever since the industrial age took off. And no one knows where he is. It's the dream of every satyr to find him, so that nature can return to the way it was.”

“That your dream?”

He nodded solemnly. “You have to be a Protector first, before you can get your Searcher’s license. But I'm not like the others.” His gaze fell down. His hands sat in his lap, cupped around nothing but air. “I don't want him just so we can bring nature back to its peak.” He sighed. “We were a lot different when Pan was still around. More free. More wild. I want satyrs and nymphs - all of us to be us again!”

Percy leaned into him. “What's stopping you?”

Grover snorted. “People forgot. We were more than just Pan's disciples. We fought to protect the wild from mankind. We didn't just sit around waiting for him to tell us what to do. But nobody wants to do anything.” He scowled. “They think when Pan returns he'll fix it all and I-” He bit his lip, then shook his head. “The world has changed. And gods don't get involved like that. Not to the extent they want him to. It's not in their nature. But if he comes back then maybe…”

He faced Percy. His eyes were watery, darkening the already dark brown of his eyes into shots of black. The welled tears glistened ever so slightly. Like the night sky, free of pollution.

His lips wobbled into a gentle smile. “But that's why I'm not afraid. You’re like nature at its purest form - chaotic, wild, unburdened.”

Normally those words wouldn't hit Percy as compliments. Insults, degradation - things that would deflate him and make his mom frown. But Grover sounded so earnest, his heart swelled.

“You can't tell, but I can feel it.” He swung his arm over Percy's shoulders and tugged him in close. “Your demigod essence, this sense of the wild that I've been searching for my whole life.” He gestured loosely. “Even the Demeter kids don't have that. Their mom is all agriculture and farming and that's great and all, but it's not pure nature, it's not the wild.” He squeezed Percy's shoulder as best he could with one hand. “You remind me of home, Percy.”

The frog Percy hadn't noticed in his throat jumped out with a burst sob-laugh. He tried to tile away, but Grover just tugged him close, bringing around his other arm to keep Percy pinned. Nonetheless his hold was fairly loose, like Percy was a stray cat he didn't want scratching him if he felt like running.

Or like he knew that Percy was the ocean through and through, unwilling to be contained, wanting to flow wherever he saw fit.

Percy practically crawled into his lap, sniffling into Grover's shoulder. Warm hands stroked up and down his back. He laughed quietly - a half-distressed noise marrying the sound, but managed a breathy wheeze of, “You remind me of home too.”

Grover kissed the top of his head. For the first time since arriving, he shattered. All his twisted up emotions committed out in a tidal wave of tears and broken gasps. All the while Grover held him. As tight as Percy clung to him, he didn't complain. Just held on even tighter. Wetness from Grover's own tears smeared across Percy's skin.

Ever the empathetic. Like his mom.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don't leave without saying goodbye,” he begged in a hollow, hoarse whisper.

“I won't,” Grover promised.

They held onto each other even as tears and cries faded away. Grover kept stroking his back with both hands. Percy continued to cling.

Shoulders shaking, Percy wound the fabric of Grover's shirt over his fingers. After a few minutes of toiling silence, he whispered. “I think I'm changing.” He pressed his forehead to Grover's collarbone. “I'm scared.” He pulled back and stared into Grover's eyes. “What do I do?”

“Be my best friend,” Grover said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And as soon as the words fell off his tongue, it did. How silly was Percy not to think of it before? “My best friend is a good person, the best kind of wild.”

“I can do that,” Percy promised. “I swear, I can do that.”

“I know,” Grover said, squeezing Percy's cheek. His thumb swiped away at a still wet tear under Percy's eye. The stroke was soft, gentle. Kind. “I believe you.”

#percy jackson #grover underwood #i dont remember percy really having time to mourn his mom in tlt so i figured id give him a moment with grover #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic #pjo fanfic #anyway grover is sleeping witj percy in his cabin to quote unquote keep an eye on him bu really they're just gonna play games #because percy is calm when grover's around #and i haven't read tlt in a while but i dont remember grover doing much with percy post arrival #so im headcanoning that its an unspoken unofficial rule that protectors arent supposed to interact yoo much with their former protectees #in order to allow for a better transition into demigod living and also so the protector in question can go out and find other demigods #🤷‍♂️ whatever whatever but grover 1) knows that percy is possessive and insane and 2) is also Percy's bestie so hes been TRYING #and Percy's attempted murder(s) came in handy for them to chill out with each other

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fruitydiaz · 2 years

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the buckley siblings + love at first sight...ish

2.06 | 2.01

[Image description: 12 gifs of Maddie and Buck and their first interactions with Chimney and Eddie. On the left are Maddie and Chimney's scenes, on the right are Buck and Eddie's. Gif 1: Maddie leans over her banister to talk to Chimney after he helps install security in her new apartment. Gif 2: Buck turns around to see Eddie for the first time in the station locker room. Gif 3: Chimney talks to Maddie as she goes to check on Buck and Eddie, looking down at his iPad and then back up as she leaves. Gif 4: Eddie puts his shirt on in slow motion. Gif 5: Chimney asks Maddie where the beer in the kitchen is. Gif 6: Eddie wipes the sweat from his forehead. Gif 7: Maddie watches Chimney as he walks by her with an endeared smile. Gif 8: Buck smirks a little as he watches Eddie. Gif 9: Chimney grins after Maddie asks him if he wants to stay and watch a movie with her. Gif 10: Eddie tells Buck that he can have his back any day. Gif 11: Maddie smiles and looks down at the movie in her hands after Chimney says he'd like to stay and watch it with her. Gif 12: Buck smiles shyly and ducks his head when Eddie compliments him. /end ID.]

#they're both...so loud...#al gifs #madney #buddie #maddie buckley #chimney han #evan buckley #eddie diaz #the buckley siblings #911 on fox #scheduled #fun fact this is the first gifset i ever wanted to make when i first started making gifs #but i completely forgot about it until last night #also i Know that the last two buck and eddie gifs are out of order #i was determined to keep the maddie buck / chimney eddie gifs matched up #and there wasn't enough of the 'you're a badass under pressure brother' scene to gif #anyways. at least when maddie likes someone she knows she likes someone.#or whatever

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gideonisms · 1 year

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utena drives me insane because the emotional arc is SO coherent like it makes so much sense on that level but the details of what, actually happened, are nearly impossible to parse unless you take every instance of magic to be a metaphor obscuring the underlying Real Thing it represents which I think you almost have to not to drive yourself crazy trying to figure out whether 100 people REALLY died in that fire

#that's why the fic is so hard to like. get right tonally #saying this as someone who is writing fic not as a criticism of others but like.#it's like the magic is not *really* there but it is but it's not #you can't have anthy get out of ohtori and be like i'm a witch here are my magic powers. the powers are responding to the circumstance #they are whatever they need to be in order to stand in as metaphors #you can't acknowledge them too much bc they're a smokescreen. they're not the real thing that's happening #utena tag

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softquietsteadylove · 5 months

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Hello love! May i ask for a spicy one but this time Gil teases Thena and gets it back at her. 🩷

Thena glares at Gil as he picks up the phone.

"What?" he growls into it. "Right...yes."

Thena goes so far as to cross her arms at him, raising her brows. Is this really the time?

He chuckles, resuming what he was doing while still on the call. "No, I can talk."

Thena slaps her hand over her mouth as he resumes thrusting, literally completely inside of her as he takes the business call. This is revenge for earlier that morning.

"Right," he grunts, only sounding slightly out of breath as he continues to move his hips against hers, their skin slapping together as he fucks her on top of his desk. He looks down at her, "I'm not available right this second."

Thena glares at him more, but then he hits that sweet spot and she has to close her eyes because fuck! She tries to sit up and support herself with her elbows but that takes too much energy.

Gil moves his hands and pounds into her even harder, "hang on."

She puts both hands over her mouth as she lets out a loud mix of both a moan and a curse. Fuck this man. He moves with that same intensity until he knows damn well that she's getting close to coming. Then, in a flash, he's out of her.

"What was that?" he asks into the phone, completely absurdly with his suit jacket still on and his cock out and rock hard. "Yes, I see."

Thena slams her fists on his desk at the absence of him. She will get him for this. She sits up again, panting for breath and flushed scarlet rouge. "Get back here."

This man - this complete bastard - holds up a finger to shush her with a wink and the cockiest smirk she has ever seen. He is having far too much fun with this.

"Uh-huh, yes," he continues on in his conversation as he comes closer again. "Right."

Thena moans loudly as he kisses her, hoping that it will urge him to put the fucking phone down and resume fucking his impatient partner.

But Gil holds the phone away from them, dampening the sound of her pleasure for those who aren't privy. When he pulls away from her he brings the phone back, "walk me through that part again?"

Thena bares her teeth at him, ready to take matters into her own hands and tell whomever is on the other end of that call that they are keeping her from a very important orgasm.

Gil half turns away, only for his fingers to immediately resume what work he had been doing before. "Right."

Thena moans again, leaning back on his desk with her breasts settling in her new position. This is the kind of thing she used to dream about. Back when she hadn't been working for him for long, and then she would avoid him so her boss wouldn't somehow find out she was having positively filthy sex dreams about him.

"I think that's reasonable," he continues to speak so normally as he hooks his fingers inside of her, stroking that spot with ease. "It's a perfectly acceptable proposal."

"Fuck," she whimpers as, once again, he drags her all the way to the edge before stopping. She could scream, "Gil!"

"Sweetheart," he puts the phone to his shoulder and croons at her, "not much longer--promise."

Fuck this man.

Thena bites her lip. She's so close. She's been close since the moment he called her into his office and proceeded to kiss her until she couldn't think. When he first bent her over his desk and then helped her lie back on it, tits out, skirt hauled up to her waist.

"Hm," Gil pulls his hand back and licks his fingers one by one, "hmmmm."

Thena tries to kick at him, but he catches her ankle and hooks it into the crook of his elbow. He's enjoying the view; she flushes scarlet.

"Let me see," he chuckles into the phone again before turning to face her. He braces himself on the table again. "I'll get back to you."

Thena lets out a shriek as he drops the phone receiver down the same moment he pushes into her again. "Fuck!"

"When did you become so impatient, Naekkeo?"

"Fuck you," she snarls, and sounds just like him when she does. But she's so wound up, and she wants to come so bad. "You owe me."

"On the contrary, Yeobo," he pulls her hips so he can angle himself better. "This is payback for this morning. Now, we're even."

Oh, they would not be even for a long time for this.

"Fuck, Gil, please," she whimpers, positively feverish with need for him. She reaches for his hand, and not only does he hold it, he also uses it for leverage to fuck her even harder. "I wanna come!"

He all but roars as he pounds into her, their hips meeting in a hard and messy conjoining of bodies writhing together. "Fuck!"

Thena comes first, finally free after a very drawn out lead up to her crescendo. Warmth engulfs her completely and she finally lets go of everything that had been coiling within her. She flops back down to the leather deskmat beneath her, hair everywhere, completely exposed. She feels amazing.

Fuck--this man.

Gil comes barely seconds after, hunching over her and his hips giving a last few jerks as he lets his own ecstasy overtake him. He leans over her until he's close enough to kiss her, both of them kissing and gasping for air on different rhythms.

Thena moans as he slips out of her. His office is going to be a mess (and reek of sex for hours). She finally pries her eyes open just to stare at his ceiling. "Fuck."

"Yeah," he agrees, laughing faintly.

She huffs, slapping his shoulder. "It's not funny."

"It's a little funny."

"Gil!"

"Sorry baby," he chuckles, kissing her temple and then down her cheek and neck. "Couldn't resist--and hey, now you know what you put me through this morning."

Thena grumbles as he pulls her up (knowing her core doesn't have the strength in it for her to do it herself at the moment). She nuzzles into his shoulder, "I think you did far worse."

"I think we're even," he refutes, letting her lean on him as he first pulls her bra back on for her, then buttons up her cardigan again.

She grumbles, "I'm sweaty."

He fluffs her hair out for her and kisses her other cheek, "you're glowing and beautiful and perfect."

Fuck, this man; Thena rolls her eyes, pushing at his chest to try and sit up straight on her own. She wobbles a bit, but she does it. "The work day is not exactly over."

"Yeah, but at least I don't have any more meetings," he grins as he fixes his own appearance as well. "Or conference calls."

Thena pouts at him as she straightens herself out a little more, including getting her stockings hooked to her garter belt again. "I should hope not."

Gil helps her off his desk, her knees wobbling faintly as her heels hit the floor. He holds her gently, letting her stand up out of his grasp when she's ready. "Hey."

Thena smiles into his soft and sweet kiss, much more her househusband than her boss. She pats his chest, "you're not out of trouble yet."

"Save it for home, vixen," he both teases and agrees, pulling the hand up from his chest and to his lips. "And ask cleaning to do an extra thorough detailing in here tonight?"

She doesn't look forward to that. It's ridiculous, but she feels like cleaning has some way of knowing what they've been up to in here.

"And Thena?"

"Hm?" she looks over her shoulder a step and a half away from where they were just fucking like animals. She's combing her fingers through her hair and he's collecting his stray papers.

Gil crosses the distance to kiss her again with his sweet, househusband smile, "I love you."

She gives him another little kiss--a truly domestic exchange of affection after a very wild 'meeting' in the middle of the day. "I love you, too."

#Thenamesh Receptionist AU #Thenamesh 18+#a follow up to the previous of theirs #of these two animals!!!#Gil would be such a tease #and he likes it too #he likes feeling like a badass #especially when it results in the pleasure of his precious Thena #also of course everyone knows what's happening in there #yes it's soundproofed but the door is locked and his receptionist is nowhere to be found #next thing they know she's back at her desk and she looks like she's come out of a rock tumbler she's so sparkly and refreshed #and boss is in waaaaaaay too good a mood for it to not be suspicious #Thena does order extra detailing for the night #trying not to seem embarrassed over the phone #of course they know too #they get in their like jesus christ they're like newly weds boss and that lady friend of his #but whatever a job's a job #Thena would dream of Gil just taking her #ravishing her #then come into work the next day like fuck #don't think about it #don't think about the dream you had of your boss railing you against the windows

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creative-hanyou-girl · 5 months

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If the PJO show gets renewed for future seasons, I really hope the audience doesn't give the child actors crap for being a little older than their characters in the show. I'm already seeing some people be like "they better film season 2 and 3 ASAP NOW!!!!" and like, I get that as fans you want the characters to still pass as certain ages, but its neither the child actors nor the PJO crew's fault if things get delayed a bit, especially when they haven't even been given the greenlight to film yet.

And another thing: I don't want the cast and crew to feel pressured by being on a deadline, whether its given by Disney themselves or by the audience pressuring them to start filming as soon as possible. Especially the child actors like Walker, Leah, and Aryan. We've seen on how deadlines can affect the overall quality or payoff of a piece of media with Frozen 2. But more importantly is the fact that the cast and crew have lives OUTSIDE of PJO and television that they deserve to experience. They are not machines who exist purely for us, the fans', own benefit. Especially the child actors.

I think it'd be great if we could get a season 2 or 3 renewed soon, but I also know that the PJO people can't do much until given the greenlight. Walker, Leah, and Aryan can't help that they are growing up. And again, putting deadlines on the cast and crew can really effect the quality of a season, as well as be very stressful on said cast and crew, especially the younger actors.

To put it short, be kind guys. If the show is renewed, be kind to the young actors and don't give them crap for being like, 1 or 2 years older than the characters they are portraying. They can't help the fact that they are growing up. And putting a deadline on them and the PJO staff would just add more stress on everyone involved and can effect the quality of the end result. Again, they've all got lives outside of PJO and TV too, and deserve to experience those lives without pressure from fans.

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #sorry I just went off #but already I'm seeing people demanding a season 2 and 3 renewal so that the pjo show can catch up with Walker. Leah. and Aryan's ages #and while I get why they're anxious about that and it'd be cool if a season 2 and 3 were renewed in 1 go #i also feel like some fans are riding the younger actors butts for simply GROWING UP #you know. that natural thing all kids do!!!???#and I also started worrying about how much the PJO cast and crew would need to get done in a small window of time-#-in order to catch the show up to the younger actor's actual ages #and how that pressure can stress them out and also effect the quality a season like what happened when Disney put Frozen 2 on a deadline #and not to mention too that all the cast and crew have lives OUTSIDE of TV and the PJO show that they deserve to experience #so while I get why some fans are concerned. I think some of them are being too pushy and intense on literal KIDS.#LEAVE THEM ALONE #whatever happens. happens #and its our job as the viewers to be understanding #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #I'm sure the make up crew can work their magic to make them look younger if they have to calm down #pjo cast #pjo crew #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #aryan simhadri #disney +#pjo fandom

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creaturefeaster · 7 months

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say that a mime was low on hemolymph and they lost one of their limbs and then took a host, would they be able to move that part of the host’s body or would it be sort of kind of paralyzed?

Hey you know I never considered this facet of mime logic!

I think that it would be more like, they would have a difficult time successfully hosting overall. It's possible of course, as I stated before a lot of mimes choose to host when low on life, but considering the fact that they stem throughout the body to take control of it, it'd probably be a pretty harsh and exhausting experience doing it so low on hemolymph. Once they're there though, and the energy of their host is tapped into, it'd be all good.

Anyway, a mime with a damaged stem + plus low hemolymph, would probably result in failure to fully reboot the system in whatever direction their damage is. I think this could behave in many ways depending on the varying levels of damage & hemolymph, indeed with possible paralysis for biological hosts, or even necrosis of the parts affected. As in, that part of the body would decay as though it were left unhosted up to the fully reactivated tissue.

To add onto this, usually when a host is non vitally damaged to the point of loss, such as an appendage being cut off, a mime's stem will usually take over whatever is missing if it's fresh. Such as Foxglove's true hands replacing Maja's after she cut them off. The thing with this, is that their host is a generator of temporary hemolymph, and as such so long as their stem is not damaged, it will try to regrow what is lost. This can still be difficult for mimes with low native hemolymph however, even if their host's artificial hemolymph is fully pumping, because the host's hemolymph is not truly the same as the native and does not have the same regenerative properties.

#thanks for this ask. i mean thanks for every ask always but ones like these sometimes help me build more of the world #cause again this wasnt an angle i really ever considered until now #brambleramble #just to be clear the amount of limbs and in what order does not affect on how their host functions #their stem just conforms to whatever system they're hosting #hence why uppsulka doesn't have two extra arms and legs sticking out of her host #but if a certain side is damaged or failing to grow back #extension in that part of their stem is more difficult in hosting #to reiterate. if that makes any more sense #a lot of this stuff is pretty technical and deep lore so i hope it all makes sense

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july-19th-club · 8 months

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my favorite part of survival-type shows and books is that they spend so much time dedicated to the actually riveting drama of how will we get this thing built or that thing gathered or this system organized and sometimes the system fails and it's life or death to get it fixed and like when other books and shows skip over this stuff because it's not relevant to them im like well THAT'S boring. why didn't they have a whole arc about how they fixed up the old house they just bought when the show is a crime procedural. the 100 just devoted six episodes to trying and failing to stock food for the coming winter when some other guys across the territory don't want them to get the food from their area

#more shows should be about like. idk some guys who desperately have to build a bridge in order to not freeze or starve or whatever #but none of them have experience and they're running out of time!#not like. reality shows about this. survivor is kind of stupid. but like . survival DRAMAS.#oddly i hated my side of the mountain. but maybe that was because it was just the one guy so it got dull after a while #the real pull is that they have to do TASKS but there are OTHER PEOPLE and that's a problem for the tasks #just like amongus :)#q

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