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#too many episodes lol

whatthefuckisasweep · 8 months

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hi jake and amir fans on tumblr dot com!!!!!

i wanna see something so can you reply/reblog with 5 episodes you consider top and then 5 episodes you consider underrated :3?

mine (tbh there isnt solid answers for me but this is my attempt):

Top 5:

Hotel Room

Celebration

Breakfast Date

Pizza

aaaaanddddd let's just go withhhhh ... uhhh ...

Sandwich Email

Underrated 5:

Storm (I WILL DIE FOR STORM I WILL EXPLODE PEOPLE WITH MY MIND FOR STORM)

Translator (WOULD ALSO EXPLODE PEOPLE FOR THIS EPISODE)

Bless You

Explanation

Cereal Thief

#jake and amir #j&a #honestly there are so many runner ups that like . i just have to post and move on or else ill think too hard and keep changing #top for me also includes record breakers.. one almond.. normal conversation... rap teacher 3... Valentines Day... gay marriage.. dog...#too many episodes lol #underrated to me also includes cereal part 2... the staycation series... bake sale...freaky friday...embarrassed... heavy lifting. nuggets.#ok i need to stop before i list every episode ever made #i wish there could be a way to do like a J&A tumblr episode bracket because Im SO curious to see who would win but also like #there isn't enough of us #and there is also like 700 episodes so #that's not really going to work #anyways im curious

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raziraphale · 5 months

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"oh it's not that fourteen is the first doctor to be attracted to men he's just the first one to talk openly about it" twelve called the master his man crush... know your herstory

#i haven't seen the new episode yet but im nosy on social media lol #im jazzed for it #but you guys gotta watch 12 and 13 i am no longer asking 🫵#reilly.txt #dw spoilers #doctor who #edit: guys i know other doctors were fruity the point is that too many people skipped 12 : (

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7cfc00 · 1 year

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episode 92 was EPIC i love all the interactions in it. matt and ed man my beloved!!

[characters, left to right: Sylvester August Baxter, Matt, Ed Man, Mikey, Michael, MW]

#woe.begone #woe.begone spoilers #w.bg #fanart #drawing this many people in one drawing was super difficult.#also i have no idea how to draw a tank or a shotgun.#so uh. this one was a struggle!!#but the episode was really fun.. made me so happy...#im probs gonna redo some designs too.. once i get ideas lol.

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s-wordsmith · 3 months

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Something I really need Stranger Things fic writers to know is that no one in rural America was locking any doors in the eighties apart from the government and businesses. I remember when there was a big stink about "we gotta start locking our doors now how am I supposed to remember that every time I leave the house." People didn't lock the doors when they were home until at LEAST the mid-aughts, a lot of people STILL don't. "Oh we can't get into so-and-so's house/car because we don't have the keys!" You do not need the keys, just open the door. "I'm alarmed because I went over to so-and-so's house and their front door was unlocked so I instantly knew something was wrong." It would be much weirder if it was locked. If I showed up at my friend's house and the door was locked I would immediately assume something was wrong. If I lived in a town regularly invaded by monsters and patrolled by mobs of government agents/Russian spies/jocks with guns, I would assume my friend was currently being hunted.

#stranger things #pretty sure Will just walked into his house in the first episode #I know Mike did when he brought Eleven home #None of these doors are locked #Please stop including it as plot points because it takes me right out of the story and leaves me staring into space #Also while we're at it:#VHS tapes will not fit in Steve's back jeans pocket #That's not happening #And it is completely normal for the Wheelers to not know where their two oldest kids are #Parents in the eighties expected you to show up for breakfast and for dinner and that's it #Sometimes you bike to the other side of town to get up to trouble with your friends and that's just how it is #If you were inside they were concerned about your health #And no one was particularly stressed about being able to reach anyone because that was the usual state of things #Sorry for the rant #So many of you are too young to have known the carefree days of the height of serial killers lol #Kids rarely went missing and most people had only ever heard of murders and other serious crimes in the big city #No one in Hawkins is concerned except the people who have dealt with the monsters

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loumands · 1 year

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Something so deeply insidious in the way it’s Claudia coming to Louis and Lestat’s life what leads to escalating abuse and them developing unequal gendered roles in their new family dynamic. Like some of that existed since the beginning (Lestat being the pursuer and proposer and expecting to be the provider too, them moving into his house, Lestat even bridal carrying Louis etc.) but overall in the first episodes you get an impression that although Lestat is inherently more powerful they’re at least trying to have a balanced relationship and perceive each other as equal, and neither of them sees himself or the other as the “man” or the “woman” of the relationship. Whereas later when Claudia disparagingly calls Louis a housewife neither of them even denies it. But Louis wasn’t acting like a housewife before adopting Claudia! In the early years he was very ambitious and had an active life and successful career outside of home and didn’t usually act the least bit submissive with Lestat (at least in their day-to-day interactions). Lestat was always jealous and had a bad temper but wasn’t overtly “patriarchal” and let Louis do what he wanted. Like ep 2 Lestat would probably never tell ep 2 Louis to clean up like in the finale, and if he did Louis would’ve been like what the fuck clean up your own mess. That all changes when Claudia arrives. They become a traditional patriarchal nuclear family astonishingly quickly. Louis quite literally gives up his career to become a nurturing stay-at-home mom for Claudia and becomes increasingly isolated from the outside world and dependent on Lestat. Lestat, who already prided himself on being a good provider clearly starts to see himself as the family’s leader and protector, becomes increasingly entitled and controlling, and assumes the role of paternal disciplinarian that he later extends towards Louis too. Crucially, i don’t think neither Louis or Lestat is really happy with this arrangement but it’s like because of their own patriarchal upbringing they’re incapable of envisioning a family that doesn’t have a husband and wife, mother and father, with all the conventional roles that come with it. It’s actually horrifying how you think you can remove yourself from heterosexuality and humanity but it’s an illusion and there’s no escaping heteronormativity and patriarchy

#i'm rewatching like one episode per week because i have too many thoughts lol #mal watches iwtv #keanu.txt

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gooboogy · 8 months

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(image ID in alt text)

My TMA oc "The Witness" I don't have a name for him yet but he's a servant of the Eye and he's a serial chronic statement giver. He's just always around witnessing things to bring back and give a statement for. He is obsessive about being a voyeur, to the point that he even unsettles Elias (who he's INFATUATED with)

I don't think he has like eye observing abilities, but I think he's able to just be in the middle of situations and influence people to want to let him go as a witness of their atrocities. He gets nightmares still after giving statements but rather he has a lot more autonomy than Jon does. He gets to experience the horrors again as well as Jon's horror, a little bit of eye powers cannibalism as a treat. He also adores Jon, really he loves loves anyone connected with the eye but especially other avatars.

I wanna say he has some sort of avatar immortality too, but also I think that if his eyes get taken he just dies, like he's just dead. Any other part of him can heal. If he has one eye then he can regrow the other. But also you just reeeallly want to show him something and let him go.

Anyone he Witnesses won't have nightmares but they'll have daymares. Any time they lose focus and start to drift off Suddenly they are Being Watched and those memories resurface, always following them, keeping them hyper vigilant. Eye with a dash of lonely and distortion

#“to know you is to love you”#tma #the magnus archives #ocs #tma oc #goobarts #yeah he looks like milo from atlantis #he was inspo #bottle episode where Jon cannot take getting another statement from.him so he runs to hide in Elias's office #elias is also avoidong him so he allows this lol #i have the opposite problem of making mary sue ocs #i have too many thay are just Normal Men that are Odd lol #the wetness #when he sees Elias lol

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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

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“Wow, man, that’s nasty. You should get that checked.”

Someone’s standing in the doorway, Steve’s sane enough to notice that. This someone is wearing the infamous hospital gown, is hooked to an IV, and has Nancy’s hair. Which is exceptionally weird, because Steve has always believed that no one could achieve that kind of volume. Especially while living in a hospital.

This someone is also, not unlike Steve, wrapped in several layers of dressings to shelter their burns from everything that’s bad in this world: infection, stares, more pain.

(Steve isn’t so certain about the last one, though. He sure is in a lot of pain at the moment.)

So someone is standing in the doorway, he’s positive. This someone is staring at him, their gaze curious and open, and it’s not a nurse, and it’s not a doctor. Partly that’s why Steve doesn’t believe that this person is even real at first. His visitors must wear gowns and gloves—something about it being too early to risk an infection. So despite the hair, it is not Nancy.

It’s a someone. Maybe. Probably. Steve doesn’t know—his eyes are barely open and he’s too high on painkillers to differentiate between dreams and reality. When the sweet numbness overwhelms him again, he has half a mind to say: Maybe it’s an angel, standing in my doorway.

***

As Steve’s recovery progresses (and the amount of painkillers he’s being pumped with decreases), he gets more and more aware of reality.

For starters, he learns that he’s not living some sort of fever dream. He was—is—a firefighter, who got pretty badly burned, and his sides, some parts of his belly, back and arms need very special and very expensive treatment. Hence the hospital bed, the gown, the dressings, meds, pain, et cetera. This burn center is going to be his home for the next few weeks, and Steve’s okay with that. It means that he got to save a life, even if his own was put at risk in the process.

He can live with that, definitely. With the scars and the pain, no problem. What’s killing him now is his own curiosity.

He hasn’t been seeing angels, turns out. He’s been seeing fellow patients – one patient in particular. That someone who hovered over the threshold when he first started his recovery. Steve’s been seeing him almost every day, taking slow steps across the hallway, dragging his IV behind him, the patchwork of dressings and scarring tissue changing frequently.

Without fail, each time this man passes Steve’s room, his steps slow down. Sometimes, he sends Steve a wink. On better days, Steve supposes, when the scarring on his cheek doesn’t bother him that much, he gives a flash of a smile. Even on the worst days, when walking serves as torture, he acknowledges Steve with a nod, like they know and respect each other.

Everything about him is a mystery to Steve, though. He, too, returns a small wave or a nod or anything, but he still half-believes he’s seeing things that aren’t there, so when this man with long, wavy hair and ridiculously brown eyes passes his room again, he can’t hold it back any longer.

“Beth, who’s that?” he asks. Beth, his nurse slash new hospital friend, looks over her shoulder. When she finally figures out what he means, she smiles.

“Isn’t that your angel?”

He looks at her completely mortified.

“Please, tell me you’ve just made that up.”

Beth laughs and adjusts the position of his bed. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid that everyone heard your delirious tirades about long-haired angels taking you to heaven.”

With how heavily her “everyone” implies everyone, he doesn't even have it in him to groan. He shouldn’t have listened to Robin when she told him that his high is one of the best things in the world.

***

“How come you never scream?”

Steve’s eyes have been shut tight for the whole time his doctor was poking and prodding around his wounds, but now they’re wide open and he, too, wants to ask himself that. How come he never screams? It’s the most pain he’s ever felt in his entire life. It’s ripping him apart, it’s eating him alive, it’s killing him, but he never screams.

He just keeps his eyes closed, waiting for it to be over. Thinking about Robin and his kids, about how he has to stay strong and never show fear because it’s his job to keep them safe and away from the pain even if—or maybe especially if—it comes with taking the pain on himself, bearing it, being torn by it. He keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t think about his failures or the times he was too late to save them; he keeps them shut because he knows that there are going to be more times when he’ll have to keep his eyes open to spot the danger ahead.

But his eyes are open now, open and staring at the man standing in his doorway, backlit and glowing like some non-human entity, asking him such a simple thing that will, without a doubt, make Steve circle down the drain when he’s alone again.

Steve doesn’t dare open his mouth. He’d scream if he tried, and he cannot afford to do that.

“Mr. Munson, you really shouldn’t be here right now.”

Steve shuts his eyes back again.

***

Steve’s recovery is slow, slower than anticipated. When he first got here, his doctors said he’d be able to walk soon-ish, but it’s way past “soon-ish” now and he’s still tied to his bed. It still hurts like hell, he’s still woozy from the painkillers, even though the strongest stuff is out of the question, he’s made sure of that. He’d rather feel everything than risk another embarrassing situation. Maybe it’s stupid, but that’s how it is.

Mainly, Steve just feels lonely. He’s allowed to have visitors, but they can’t stay with him as long as he’d like them to—mostly because they have lives outside of this hospital while Steve’s entire life is in this hospital. He’s lonely, he’s bored, and he’s envious out of his mind, because the man from his doorway gets his walks every day and Steve dreams of nothing but being able to move a little.

Each time Munson walks past his room, he stares. He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a mirror in here, but it’s painstakingly clear to him that he’s glaring daggers at a man that hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just so jealous—his body aches, but it’s a different ache; it’s an ache of being still for too long. An ache of being out of the game. Steve hates being out of the game. It makes him come up with the worst possible scenarios—but he has to thank both his burns and his head trauma for the dizziness, weakness and total lack of coordination that keeps him from starting physio.

With each passing day, his stares get more daunting, but the man doesn’t stop sending him smiles and nods. He knows it’s irrational and unfair, taking out his own fears and anger on someone who can’t do anything about his situation, who’s in an equally shitty situation, actually, but he’s still working on not being mean without a reason. And it seems so harmless, because this stranger never stops smiling at him. No matter how much Steve tries, he can’t seem to convey his feelings, because Munson never stops.

It irritates him even more, enrages him to a point. When Munson smiles at him one day, Steve can’t take it anymore.

“Are you always this chirpy?” he asks, his voice dripping of malice. It disgusts him a little, makes him want to retreat—retreat far away from the version of himself that he dropped years ago, although it’s haunting him to this day. He wants to retreat, but he doesn’t. He pouts instead.

Munson stops in his tracks, raises one eyebrow. He looks amused, and it pisses Steve off.

“Your life must be quite miserable if walking around a hospital with unhealed wounds is your definition of chirpy,” Munson says. It’s supposed to sting, probably, but his smile is still there, despite his injured cheek. Steve’s pout deepens. Munson looks like a cat who got the cream. “Oof, soft spot. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he coos, looking like he’d like to lean against the doorframe, but his injured arm won’t let him. “We can be miserable—oh, sorry. Chirpy, we can be chirpy together.”

Steve doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how. He feels warm all over. It’s not something he likes. He’d cross his arms over his chest if he could.

Munson stays silent for a moment, a smirk still playing on his lips. The quiet moment stretches out until he takes a big breath and takes a look around. “I’m Eddie, by the way. And I’m very, very late for my usual ‘walk as much as you can but be reasonable, Mr. Munson’ appointment, so I have to get going. But, uh,” he looks at Steve like he’s not sure of something for the first time in his life, even though he’s still playing along. “I could come around tomorrow, Mr…?”

“Steve,” comes the reply. Munson—Eddie smiles, again.

“Alright then, Mr. Steve. Get ready to be the chirpiest you’ve ever been.”

***

The worst thing is, it works. Steve does get chirpier.

It starts out small. Eddie just stops in front of the threshold, spits out the most random, obnoxious and seemingly nonsensical (although Steve suspects they’re all true) fact, like Did you know that cows have four stomachs? or Did you know that geckos can’t blink and they have to lick their own eyeballs to keep them from drying out? or something of sorts, and then he leaves while Steve lies in his bed, suspecting that he’s having hallucinations and fully questioning his sanity. Again.

It gets progressively worse, it does. It gets weirder. At first, Steve isn’t sure what to think of it. Eddie’s strange. He’s also a nerd. He talks in codes, his sentences are long and Steve finds it hard to follow his logic altogether from time to time. But he also makes Steve snort, sometimes even laugh—truly laugh, laugh from his belly. Eddie’s weird, but he’s Dustin-weird, Steve decides. Good-weird. Familiar-weird. Safe-weird.

He makes him feel less lonely. Steve invites him to sit beside his bed after a few days, so now Eddie comes, spits out his random nerdy facts, and they sit and talk around it until the nurses kick Eddie out for not doing his laps.

Steve’s less lonely. He’s so much less lonely he even starts missing Eddie when they’re not together—only a little, but he does. (He knows it’s dangerous. But what’s the harm in that if they’re both stuck here anyway? What’s the harm in a little hospital vulnerability?) It’s quite difficult not to miss Eddie, to be honest. Eddie makes it difficult—he listens when Steve talks, he never hesitates before explaining something when Steve doesn’t get it immediately, he’s patient, but at the same time, he talks so much. The room fills with intricate, engrossing stories and anecdotes whenever he opens his mouth.

The only moments when Steve feels even less less lonely than when he’s with Eddie is when he’s with Robin, and Robin’s the most important person in Steve’s life.

“Contraband,” Eddie says, sitting down on the edge of Steve’s bed one day. He puts something on Steve’s thing – cherry jello and a plastic spoon. His favorite. “Don’t rat me out.”

He smiles at Steve. His cheek is practically healed now; the scar isn’t as big as Steve imagined it from afar, but it sure as hell must have been a menace to get it more or less healed. That’s the only thing they don’t talk about. How they got here, how they got their scars. They support each other through it, but they never dwell.

At least Eddie doesn’t. Steve’s sure everyone knows his story – people love when firefighters let themselves get burned to a crisp while trying to save somebody else, after all, and gossip spreads around the hospital with the speed of plague.

“And get my best dealer behind bars?” Steve asks and scrapes a spoonful of jello from the cup. “They never have cherry. You’re the only one that seems to know where they store it.”

Eddie grins devilishly and leans a bit further. “Do you want to know a secret?” he asks and Steve mumbles something unintelligible in response. “I used to deal,” Eddie says. Steve’s not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but he starts playing with the hem of Steve’s sock, his fingers barely brushing the skin on Steve’s calf. It tingles, but he doesn’t mind.

Steve’s brows go up. “Is that how you got here?” he risks, not really knowing why. He’s not that curious—but it’s the scar on Eddie’s face that’s been haunting him for ages now. So different from his own forming scars, yet, in principle, the same.

Eddie’s face gets softer. Steve can’t recognize the expression properly, it’s different from Eddie’s usual, mischievous smirk. It’s quiet for the longest time, so quiet Steve thinks he’s going to choke on his jello from build-up pressure.

“I’m gay,” Eddie says, suddenly, his voice totally cool and leveled while Steve—

“I’m bi,” he blurts out in response, practically out of breath. To his absolute horror, Eddie chuckles.

“Well, that’s useful,” he says around his crooked smile, “but that’s not what I meant.”

When he points at his face, everything clicks. Steve tries to control his face, but the realization is too sudden.

“What?” he asks before he can think better of it.

Eddie shrugs. His expression is unreadable, but he isn't looking at Steve anymore, his eyes fixed on his own fingers that are still playing with Steve’s sock.

“My band has this one place for gigs that we all don’t really like, but they actually pay us some money. I’ve always thought that it’s enough – this and my arrogance, anyway – enough to scrape by. I’m not too cagey about being gay, and I wanted to spite them, I guess, show them that they can’t win,” he looks up. He looks sad, almost defeated, as much as Steve hates it. “They got their way, as you can see. Tried to pour something on me when I was leaving the stage, but they fucked up, both in terms of chemistry and their aim. It didn’t get me as bad as it could have, so I guess I won anyway.”

Eddie smiles again, but it reaches nowhere near his eyes. He looks so sad, so hurt, and Steve’s so, so angry. It’s easy for him to turn to anger, it’s easy and it’s freeing and he suddenly feels bigger and stronger than he really is, because he wants to destroy something, anything—but he’s not a fighter. He’s a protector. He’s not Nancy; he’s Steve. No matter how hopeless, how betrayed he feels, he doesn’t want to hurt. He wants to heal and save.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, afraid it’s too dumb and too obvious.

“I know,” Eddie replies impassively, looking at him from underneath his too long bangs.

“You said you wanted to spite them. But it doesn’t matter, it’s not your fault,” he drills. Eddie opens his mouth again, but before he gets to say anything, Steve squeezes his knee and looks at him intently. “It’s not,” he insists. “Whatever you said or did, it never mattered. They would have done it even if you’d praised them, you were never the problem.”

Eddie scoffs, but it’s not malicious. His eyes are a little bit glassy. “So you’re saying I’m perfect?”

For some reason, Steve doesn’t have a problem with reading that. Please, let’s not talk about it now. Then foreign fingers graze his own, and he gets it. Thank you, though.

Steve sighs, something tugging at the corners of his lips. The change of topic makes this both heavier and lighter at the same time. He flicks his spoon at Eddie and aims perfectly between his eyebrows.

“Bring me more jello tomorrow and maybe I’ll grace you with saying that out loud.”

“So you’ve thought—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Their fingers intertwine in the silence that follows. They look at each other like they can see each other and suddenly, Steve feels the weight of this moment. They’re not strangers anymore—maybe they have never been strangers. Maybe this was meant to happen from the very beginning. He most probably wasn’t seeing angels a few weeks back, but whatever it was that he saw hovering over his threshold, it’s just entered his house and is, hopefully, planning to stay for longer.

#tw for homophobia mention towards the end!!#pining #ok no guys. i do not know what this is lol #matching scars #it's their trope.... in every universe #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #st4 #steddie fic #steve x eddie #firefighter steve #modern au #hospital au #god how is that a thing #listen. i did the research but i've also watched too many episodes of grey's anatomy for my own good so this is 100% not accurate #let me live out the delusions #i've been scribbling down bits and pieces of this one for so long it just needs to see the light of day

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another-clive-blog · 4 months

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Thinking about the Clive and Bill parallels again...

Both started with pretty average goals (gaining money / getting closure). Both became obsessed with said goals to the point of going through with their plans no matter the cost. Both became consumed by the desire to pursue a goal that isn't actually achievable (You can get more money but it will never feel like it's enough. You can lash out in anger but it won't make the anger go away). Both ended up killing innocents.

And yet.

Bill getting rid of his humanity in the hopes of getting money. Clive getting rid of his money in the hopes of getting his humanity back. Bill claiming he despises people like Clive when he has himself killed innocents for his own selfish plans. Clive claiming he hates politicians and scientists but still using science to build a mecha and politics to justify its use. Bill hiding everything, hiding from Claire that the machine isn't ready, hiding his crime from everyone. Clive exposing everything, exposing his secret base to Layton, exposing Bill and Dimitri's crime by his staging. Bill covering up the incident while Clive broadcasted his crime inside the fortress.

I don't know where I was going with this. Maybe that prime minister Bill looks like a honest citizen, just your regular Londoner really, while Clive is so obviously violent and destructive : and yet, Clive is the dove and Bill the hawk. Funny.

#In today's episode of 'Syl states the obvious' LOL #But yeah basically looks can be deceiving for them both I guess =)#This is once again a very simplified version. Hence why I don't go into too many details #Like Bill losing his humanity is the very moment he decided the risk was worth it. It's not even the explosion itself #Clive doesn't feel like a human because he's so alienated. He's ready to kill people. But he's hoping to get saved. Wrong actions ofc #It's actually so very important to me that Clive goes to jail but we aren't told a thing about Bill. Bill keeps everything a secret #Dimitri also has parallels with both. One day I'll write a good detailed analysis about these 3 #clive dove #bill hawks #professor layton and the unwound future #professor layton and the lost future #unwound future spoilers #lost future spoilers #my analysis #This goes without saying but they're both assholes btw. Idc about the actual goals or characters they're both in the wrong and messed up

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