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#yes I just binged the entire series in the last week what of it????
serpentarius · 2 years
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thinking about how, for Nandor’s cloak of duplication scenes, Kayvan Novak was LITERALLY DOING THE IMPRESSIONS OF Mark Proksch, Matt Berry, and Harvey Guillen FFGGDHDBRJR I THOUGHT IT WAS DUBBED
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inthelittlewood · 1 year
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Any plans after Rats SMP ends? Solo content? Find a new SMP?
I've been getting this question a lot since the Rats end was confirmed and it's very reassuring that I've put my best foot forward this past month or two (I'm glad you've enjoyed it all!)
Currently I've no plans. That's the honest truth.
Rats episodes will likely see the YouTube channel through to mid January and streams should last until early Jan, at a guess
But then, it's a big unknown...
The next Life series has no date but Grian has said 2023, that can be as short lived as 6 weeks so that's more of a flash in the pan project than a proper SMP
I don't have another SMP to transition to (and I stress this every time, PLEASE DON'T pester people in existent SMPs to add me. That won't achieve anything and will likely only put them off the idea entirely)
I'd love to make some content themed around Blockbench and coding. It will be January after all, it's almost tradition at this point that I go on a development binge haha
Those videos wouldn't be tutorials but more 'making your comments in Minecraft' type ones instead
As for episodical / long form content, I'm clueless. I'll have to do some research over the holidays and see what others are up to to try and draw inspiration then calve a niche so I stand out
Vault Hunters? Too grindy from what I've seen / been told
Hardcore World? Unless I'm missing something, are these literally just single player world series people do and there's the risk I lose everything (no thanks!)
I've done some build homework recently for Fwhip and Sausage. Those were really fun exercises and something I'm going to keep up with because historically I've always had minimalist / ugly bases and I certainly feel behind my peers on that skillset, so I need to brush up!
The truth of it is.. The Rats SMP is perfect for me. A little building (leaning in to pixel art which is my only slight artistic capability), a unique environment to explore, unfamiliar dangers, plenty of room for light roleplay and improv comedy, all wrapped up with a light overarching narrative. It's now my favourite MC experience ever (yes, even moreso than the ADVENTure)
So there you have it. I'm reinvigorated and more in love with Minecraft than ever before but have absolutely no clue how to apply myself!!
I plan to do a community post on YouTube and vet my chat / discord on content preferences as we have to remember, this is a job at the end of the day. Gotta please the people, but I certainly won't be making videos for the sake of making them. They won't have that same spark if I do.
If you've any thoughts, comment away 👋
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gloomyfilm · 10 months
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A LOVE LETTER TO THIS IS US 🍋💌☁️
/for full ambiant experience click on the audio before continuing\
I still can't believe two summers ago I decided to give This Is Us a try, fell in love and binge-watched the whole 5 seasons available.
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Every night, I would get to cooking in a very romanticized fashioned way à la Nancy Meyers main character, pour myself a nice fresh drink as people still enjoyed the warmth of the early evening hours.
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By the time dinner was ready, world would accordantly settle for peacefulness as I made my way to the couch to get all cozy and snuggly.
Here would begin, the events I was truly not prepared for..
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In just under 2 episodes, I was now finding myself unexpectedly and completely invested, all thanks to the writers for having done such a terrific job on the dialogues, cliffhangers and time traveling. For approximately the next two weeks following, my nights were paced up by This Is Us and driven by my own hunger to find out: what on earth happened to the Pearson family?
From the very first episode, --- which features one of the most beautiful closing scene I've seen on television along Labi Siffre's song "Watch Me" --- up to the last episode of season 1, emotions would come to the surface, hitting a specific spot within me...
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By episode 14 from season 2 it was clear, if not clear then, that the tissu box would be kept close by for the remaining time of the entire series.
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Imagine some stranger dropping on you some hard facts about life, death, society issues, love, mental health... to sum it up: YOURSELF.
precisely, accurately and totally out of the blue. 😃
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As the seasons went on, I was admiring how the flashbacks and foreshadowing started to merge all together into one. It would only get all the more brilliant with each new episode I was discovering.
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The show succeeded in giving its audience a range of life observations to think about. Therapy-wise, if you couldn't afford a therapist, This Is Us was there for you. I still rely on and appreciate many of the thoughtful and life inspiring excerpts.
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Moreover, it delivered the people with a brand new music playlist. Yes, another key element to all this greatness is the symbiosis between the storylines and the soundtrack. Hold my Spotify, to this day I still listen to the score in my bed, to meditate, to get dreamy. I've also come to discover wonderful artists and can hardly detach their songs from the show as it gave their melodies a new sense of clarity and depth.
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When having finished the fifth season, I was desperate for more but afraid to google the show and potentially find out it had been canceled.... which is NOT what happened of course because we're talking about thee show that has garnered over 17 million views in less than 3 days for its trailer alone. alright lovelies?
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And so just like that, comfortable in my bed and all up to date, the sixth and finale season of This Is Us was premiered in early 2022.
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Only couple of months after having cried an ocean over its past seasons, -- if reminder was needed --, I emotionally began this last chapter of what felt in some parts like my own life portrayed on screen. ✨hopes were high - tissu box storage ran low.✨
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Season 6 would open to a flashbacks filled episode echoing Season 1, already preparing us for closure and ultimately heartbreaks. Eventually some people were a bit disappointed by the simplicity of the final episode, but the last minute or so really brought it all up for me. It was ending, right there before our very eyes and it was beautifully executed. The ultimate disappointment would have been to not experience any shivers, but that never happened, the show always got in my feelings in one way or another.
The empty boxes of kleenex that I've been sitting on can testify, your honor.
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Last but not least, an aspect of the show that I've truly enjoyed is that all characters and actors were given dedicated moments to shine.
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The chemistry between them was real, felt and seen both on and off the big screen and that's precious. I miss this cast.
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This year, just a few weeks away from my birthday, there'll be no new Jack Pearson butt to be seen, no mothering singing Rebecca, no anxious Randall, no queen Beth, no indecisive Kevin, no self sabotaging Kate and oh do I miss them all. But I am so grateful for the people behind this project and their creative genius that bought us such a magnificent television program. I had low expectations, it now holds a special place in my heart like no other tv series.
This Is Us did not just narrate a story about some random family, it narrated life authentically at its worst and finest. With poetry and grace, it presented different storylines for each and every single one of us to identify, it offered us our very own reflection, and an opportunity to change, learn, heal or grow. This is the reason why so many of us worldwide described it as close to home,
because This Is Us.
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🎂 And a very happy (late) birthday to our boo Milo Ventimiglia (08/07/1977) 💘
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Introduction? Introduction.
I figured that now I am getting more connected to some of you here, it's time to be a little less anonymous. I am ready to overshare.
My name is Sanne (she/her), I'm 28 and I am from/live in the Netherlands. I live with my boyfriend, who is from Lithuania, like Arnas, and the same age as him too, which simply amuses me endlessly at this point. We also have pet rats named Salem and Thor (yes, we had a Loki too).
I love movies, series, books and music. Music wise I am a metalhead at heart. I am an occultist and a pagan, and in general I love all things spooky. Our house is 24/7 in Halloween mode basically, and so am I. (If anyone from twitter is here right now who happens to follow me, you will know exactly who I am by this description lmao).
I only found TLK very, very recently. I am usually not a fan of period pieces, but one evening I was bored and this popped up on Netflix and I decided to give it a go. Many factors made me fall in love with the show and I binged it within two weeks, only a few weeks before the movie got released. It became a part of my life real quick.
A little fun fact: I was diagnosed with adhd only last year (fuck my life, right?) so it is easy for me to completely get lost into one thing. However, I know when something is going to stick with me and when something is just a quick hyperfixation.
And TLK? My dudes, it's a keeper.
Because of my adhd it is very hard for me to stay focused on something for a long time without getting distracted. The fact that I was able to binge this show with no interruption is insane to me. I started reading the books shortly after (I am currently reading the 4th book) and as much as I love reading: it is not easy for me either. The amount of half read books I have is something I will never tell. But I swear (on Thor's hammer) this whole series is made for people with adhd, because I have never read books so fast, so easily.
And I know it's impossible to tell, but my fave character is Sihtric. Why? I am not sure, it just happened.
I have never been into fanfics, but I was so eager to read more of him (and other characters) that I found myself searching for fics. But I was a little surprised by how "limited" results popped up, so here I am, doing god's work (just kidding). I am on sick leave for several reasons, and these lil fics give me some purpose during the day and keep me from bad habits, I've noticed, so I am just having fun here. I have no experience writing fics, I only write poetry, so to see nice and loving comments about my fics has been quite overwhelming and heartwarming!
Look at me, oversharing. Is anyone still reading this? Probably not.
Anyway...
I was lucky my bank account less lucky to see that Arnas, Mark, Alexander and Timothy will attend a comic con in Germany next week. I told myself not to go due to the finances, but with some luck (fate, perhaps?) I found out last week that I could make it. Alas, I got my tickets. For now I only have tickets secured for Arnas, but I will get a duo op with Mark and Arnas asap (because: faves).
I would love to meet Alexander and Timothy too, but the entire group op is just too expensive for me, unfortunately. I will travel alone and attend the con on my own and I am literally terrified. I have never been to cons alone (social anxiety has entered the chat) and the chances of getting a sensory overload and a meltdown are huge.
However, the fact that I made the decision to go there is really saying something about what this show, these characters and these people became to mean to me, in such a short period. Destiny really is all, I guess! Anyway, I have rambled for way too long. Sorry.
Feel free to introduce yourself to me!!
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thedarkplume · 2 years
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Being roommates with your best friend isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—especially not when you have to hear him and his flavor of the week going at it through your obnoxiously thin bedroom walls. But it’s better to be his friend than to have your heart broken by being the next in a long line of flings. Isn’t it?
😈
AN: This is for @boxofbonesfic The Monkey's Paw 7k challenge! I loved this prompt, but full disclosure, that 1.5k word limit kicked my ass up and down the street! I had so much fun writing this though.
Warnings: soft!dark!reader, dubious consent, smut, mentions of noncon blood consumption, Bucky being a hoe and Reader not having it, swearing, thigh riding, handjob, oral (fem receiving), voodoo, and potions.
Disclaimer: ...I might not have understood the assignment?
Word Count: 1,499 (I became a certified editor last night/this morning)
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i dream at night i can only see your face
Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader
You stood in your kitchen, staring at the innocuous strawberry cupcakes dubiously. Cupcakes mixed with a potion from the Book of Loa laced with your blood, courtesy of your sister’s go-to psychic, Clea. The entire affair was ridiculous. Completely stupid.
And yet, you went to Clea’s Psychic Readings that rainy afternoon because you were desperate to find some sort of resolution to Sunday night’s seduction failure. Your stomach churned and tears pricked your eyes. You loved Bucky Barnes. He was more than your best friend and roommate. He was your everything. But Bucky loved her.
Before she came along there was only one drawback to being roommates with Bucky--his one-night stands. Every Friday and Saturday night, he went out and came back with a different person. Sometimes a woman, sometimes a man. Each one more attractive than the last. You did your best to ignore it and pretend everything was fine on Sundays when you binge series with Steve, Bucky’s Corgi, sitting between you, and ordering too much takeout. Only in the darkness of your bedroom when the person Bucky brings home leaves do you grab your vibrator fucking yourself to the memories of Bucky’s moans.
Your tipping point came when he brought her home. Natasha. She was supposed to be a one-and-done, but to your dismay, Natasha spent the night and had breakfast with the two of you the next morning. You tried to ignore the unease you felt watching them joke and laugh with one another and exchange kisses when they thought you weren’t looking. The one-night stands stopped and Natasha remained.
“I can’t explain it, doll,” Bucky said one morning after walking her to her car. “Natasha’s not like the others.”
You knew Natasha was different. Her clothes had a special drawer in Bucky’s dresser. Her makeup and perfume lined the sink in his bathroom. Natasha was different from the others. Even when she was gone her presence still lingered in the home you and Bucky shared.
The Sunday ‘it’ happened, you made all of Bucky’s favorite foods. He picked The Woman In The House Across The Street From The Girl In The Window. It felt like old times, before Natasha and the threat of losing Bucky loomed over your head. You waited until you were both past the point of tipsy and excused yourself. Trembling in nerves and excitement, you changed into your favorite lingerie, crotchless panties, and stockings.
Bucky’s eyes stretched open widely when he saw you. The beer he was holding in his metal hand shattered. “Wha—what’s happening?”
He was still gaping at you when you straddled his lap and put your arms around his neck. “Just doing something I wish I was brave enough to do before.”
“Doll, we shouldn’t.” But he made no attempts to move you off him. You grabbed his flesh hand and brought it down over your ass until he was touching the jeweled end of your plug. “Fuck,” he whispered, throwing his head back struggling to maintain his control. “We can’t.”
“Yes, we can.” You leaned forward to suck and nibble at his jawline. The taste of Bucky’s skin was better than your fantasies. You slowly started to grind your pussy against his thigh. “She doesn’t need to know.” You reached inside Bucky’s pajamas. He was hot and heavy in your hand. You could barely wrap your fingers around him. He closed his eyes groaning as you used the hot dribbles from his slit to slick up his shaft. You wanted so badly to sit on his cock. “She can’t make you feel like this. None of them can.” Whether it was to shut you up or just giving in, Bucky turned to you, kissing you for the first time. You worked your hips faster, feeling like you would come from just the taste of his mouth. His metal hand gripped your hair, pulling your head back so that he could kiss and suck on your neck. “Oh, Bucky! Just like that,” you moaned, working your hand a little faster on his cock.
“Fuck, fuck!” You pulled back to watch the way his back bowed off the couch as he came all over your fingers. You followed quickly, soaking his thigh. But you couldn’t enjoy the afterglow because Bucky grabbed your face, making you look at him. “What just happened can never happen again. I love Natasha and I want to marry her.”
You felt sickened. He couldn’t tell you this before he let you get him off? The rest was a blur. You know you threw up. You might have slapped Bucky. But you vividly remembered crying yourself to sleep.
You successfully avoided Bucky for a week and he was either considerate or cautious enough to keep Natasha away. Steve was constantly by your side, letting you soak his fur with your tears. You were miserable and it was only your sister demanding you get off your ass and visit Clea did you feel something besides anger, hatred, and the burning need to do something.
“There’s someone I love,” you told her. “I don’t want to love him anymore. I want to be free.”
Clea tapped her peach nails against her mug. “No.”
"Excuse me?"
“You don’t want to be free because you don’t want to stop loving him. You want him to love you the way you love him.”
Which was why you were $100 poorer and staring down twelve cupcakes. You wanted Bucky to love you, but you could never live with yourself if you forced him. You had only a second to mourn your lost money before dumping the box of tainted desserts.
Bucky came home a few hours later, surprised, and relieved to see you in the living room. He rushed to your side, holding your hands as he kept apologizing.
“Bucky, please, don’t apologize.” Your nose tingled, signaling the start of tears. “I should’ve been honest with you. I do love you, and I would give anything to be in Natasha’s place. But I’m not and it’s okay. It might take a while for me to stop loving you, but all I want is for you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes.” Bucky grabbed you in his arms, hugging you tightly. “I brought food from Vicki’s. We can watch another show and put this thing behind us.” Being in his arms again made you wish you were brave enough to act on the violent fantasies you had about Natasha. You picked All Of Us Are Dead on Netflix and split an ultimate nachos plate.
Afterward, Bucky offered to clean up. Your belly full and your heart lighter, you texted your sister. She was NOT pleased you wasted your money and Clea’s time but was mollified when you finally created that Tinder account. You drifted asleep after matching with a 6’6 auburn-haired Veterinarian with gorgeous blue eyes and double sleeve tattoos.
You woke later to a warm, tingling sensation between your legs. You mumbled, moving around to get away and get closer to the feeling. Your eyes shot open as you came with a cry. You panted heavily, propping up on your elbows. You were naked and there was an equally naked man between your legs suckling your clit.
“Fuck, doll, should’ve done this Sunday.”
Frantically, you reached towards your nightstand knocking over your Dasani. You clicked on the lamp. “BUCKY?” you grabbed his face, gently tugging him away from your throbbing core. His mouth and chin were streaked in your cream. “What are you doing?” you whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of you with a squelching pop.
Bucky crawled up your body, your greedy eyes taking in every inch of bare skin. “I can’t hold back any longer. You’re mine and I’m yours.” He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder as he lined himself up with your entrance.
“Bucky, wait!”
“I made you wait long enough.” He surged forward, his thick cock sinking inside you, stretching you, for the first time erased your hesitation.
Tears lined your eyes as you met him thrust for delicious thrust. You pulled him down to you, his forehead pressed against yours as he stared into your eyes. Bucky was yours. BUCKY was YOURS. You came undone around him, screaming his name for the neighbors to hear. You spread your legs wider, letting him slide deeper inside you as you clenched rhythmically around him until you felt him fill you up. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and—
You pulled back. “Bucky, did you eat those cupcakes I threw out?”
“Yeah, they tasted almost as good as you.” Bucky pulled out of you, already hard again. He turned you around positioning you on your hands and knees, kneeling to slurp his come out of you. “I love you, doll.” And you would make him prove it by letting you watch him take care of Natasha.
“I love you, too.”
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AN: Thoughts???
Tagging: @boxofbonesfic @autumnrose40 @georgiapeach30513 @foxgloveprincess @caffiend-queen @xxindiglow @specialk-18 @jobean12-blog @lookiamtrying @maroonsunrise83 @rustytricycle @fineanddandy @afriendlyblackhottie @thanatosfic @ghotifishreads @vampy-doll @luxeavenger @lotusss-flowerbomb @syntheticavenger @giorno-plays-piano @jtargaryen18 @the-iceni-bitch
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popculturebuffet · 2 years
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Why You Should Watch Final Space: A Memorial for one of The Best Shows in Adult Swim's History
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Saturday.. it felt like I emotoinally got hit by a truck. And I want you to keep in mind the kind of good day I was having: I went out with one of my best friends, Cory, found amazing presents for my Mom and Brother's christmas , ON SALE no less, and saw the trancendent David Bowie Documentary/Immersive David Bowie Experince/Trip Moonage Daydream, a film i'd been wanting to see since finding out it existed months ago and it did not disapoint. And I capped it off by binging a bunch of quantum leap, which I have been lately at my mom's suggestion (yes i'm a 30 year old man who still listens to my Mom), and loving.
So during this I get a message from @weirdkev27. Olan Rogers Final Space, which wasn't already in the best straits having been canceled last year and with Olan Rogers struggling so hard against corprate dumbassery to continue it somehow he took the step of making a spirtual succesor, Goodspeed, via kickstarter to drum up intrest.
So the nightmare entity that is WBD rewarded this work by.. taking Final Space off EVERY platform. And that's not hyperbole. In addition to the usual stripping from HBO Max they've scrubbed it from every digital platform with only scant episodes remaining at BEST. It makes me fearful enough to make plans to get at least a few episodes of close enough off youtube before THAT'S gone too.
It's a move that somehow goes BEYOND previous dickishness. Deplatforming it from HBO Max was bad enough, WBD COULD make money simply selling them to other streamers and their stock isn't remotely going up. They are not in bad finacial straits. There is ZERO need to keep doing this. But making it ENTIRLEY unpurchasable both makes no sense and is just making things WORSE. Removing tons of shows and films already made them look bad.
It's a decision that rightfully angered Rogers who again, has been working his ass off to SOMEHOW continue this only to be hit with this (And who I dunno MIGHT OF FOUND SOME WAY TO BUY THE SERIES FROM YOU IF YOU ASKED), and for me as a fan and someone whose been following this situation... it drove me to dispair.
Now granted I get it, not everyone would go into despair over not being able to watch a cartoon, espcailly when there are .. other means and WBD just made said means entirely valid by cutting off all standard avenues of watching something. It's not like I can't watch the show.
No what made me despair was EVERYTHING it meant. It meant WBD despite MASSIVELY bad, continuing press, dropping stocks and no one BUT wall street being on their side, REFUSES to listen. It meant that my worst fears of any show not caught in the initial purge being removed no matter how succesful or unsuccesful are frighteningly true. WBD cares for NOTHING but what they can sell for parts. It has me BEGGING for a comcast buyout which I acknowledge is not a great thing: Comcast is only a marginally better company and their subsidary universal's treatment of Dead Meat and other content creators has been legendarily awful this month, and monopoly's are bad. But at this point we have people's life's works getting thrown in the shredder every other week, no teling what will go and stay in no saftey. It's getting me to watch Primal and Harley Quinn soon simply because I DON'T know how much longer either has left on the platform after sitting on them for far too long. There's no telling if something will last a week or 5 minutes, and no way to get them once it's gone.
As someone who reviews animation for a living, got a patreon to prove it , this is horrifying and if Netflix's removal of Hemlock Grove is an indicator and not just a fluke, this might get worse. I could easily see a one season wonders like I Love Arlo or Twelve Forever getting removed. It'd probably mean the end of the Will Arnett Vehicle that wasted having will arnett Flake, but one good does not make up for the bad and even not liking the show people should have the option to make the mistake of watching Flake because they like Will Arnett.
It felt like what I do.. didn't matter for a second. That no matter how hard I love something it'll just go away. It wasn' tjust this either: Owl House is ending (With Disney cheekily deciding to spread out the finale movies to promote it as if they realized it's worth montiarily but still not enough creatively to try making more (or Dana turned them down which yeah, if so fair enough), Ducktales is gone, Amphibia ended, and a lot of the best shows left are on Amazon (Which is thankfully safe but has a small pool) or in WBD's clutches like Craig of the Creek. Which is probably safe for now but we don't know it'l lbe forever. I felt like giving up. I mean depression and a manic episode will do that to you, but it didn't mean part of me truly didn't feel that it was over. That no matter what i did it'd just die and nothing I dose matters. Thankfully my cry for help was heard by my good friend Marco who you can find here on twitter (and you can find yours truly HERE if your at all curious and he reminded me of something: That talking about these works, both in the past with all the hope that there was a bright future and no idea what laid in store and now keeps them alive. That my work, for it's highs and lows, keeps a light on these fine works and might get people to check them out
Hence this article. Instead of just raging against WBD for being monsters I should eulogize the work and get those on the fence about it, espically since it DOES end on a massive cliffhanger or who may of not liked the first episode or so to dive deep into final space. And for those who loved it it not only gives you a tool to spread it to your friends, but something to remember it by while we wait for it to turn up somewhere else in the future like Sym-Bionic Titan, or to somehow luck into one of the few remaning blu ray sets (Seriously if you have one I will make an offer. A low offer but an offer). And yes this is in addition to other planned works for the week but when the inspiration strikes sometimes you gotta go with it. So to start us out
What Even Is Final Space?
Final Space is an animated series by Olan Rogers, an animator who started out on youtube (even publishing FS' pilot there) before the show's pickup by TBS. If that sounds like a bad omen it indeed was as TBS' attempted animatoin lineup fell apart: Tarantula only lasted a season, The Cops never got made because Louis CK is a piece of shit and Close Enough struggled in limbo till it got picked up by HBO Max, a blessing and a curse.
Final Space is the story of Gary Goodspeed (Played by Rogers himself) , the son of the legendary John Goodspeed who as part of the Infinity Guard (Think Starfleet), was a great hero who tragically died sealing a rift in space. After being abandoned by his mom Gary wandered around, became a petty crook and in trying to impress one of the Infnity Guards best and brightest, Quinn Argone (Tika Sumpter) .. and ends up accidently destroying a bunch of ships and a taco stand, instead earning him a 5 year prison sentence.
Naturally his sentence, being stuck aboard the Galaxy 1 with his only companions being HUE (Played by The Legendary Tom Kenny), a seemingly emotionless AI who punishes him for the slightest wrong due to his rigid programming and K.V.N., a cyclopic orb played by Fred Armisen whose INTENDED to keep Gary sane but does the oppsite by being just that damn annoying. As a result Gary tries sending Quinn tons of mildly creepy vlogs (though hte fact he's sending them at all is questionable), and is barely holding on by a thread when adventure calls and a tiny green orb of a creatue (with two more orbs for maxiumum adorable) wonders near them and is rescued by Gary, who quickly dubs the lil guy Mooncake (Rogers again)
Naturally things can't be THAT easy or we wouldn't have a series and it turns out Mooncake is sought after by the Lord Commander (David Tennant), an utterly terrfiying tyrant with empires at his beck and call who wants Mooncake as the key to get into "Final Space" as part of a plan to become a godlike entity known as a titan. He sends his former right hand Avacato (Coty Galloway, a friend of rogers), and uses Cato's son , Little Cato (the always amazing Steven Yuen in the first roll I saw him in and his breakout voice acting roll) as a barganing chip. Avacato quickly forms an incredibly homoerotic (as in once psychically contacting each other by saying "Feel me" and appearing in a majestic wheat field with Gary suddenly shirtless, their pratically together levels of homoerotic), but incredibly sweet and genuine bond with Gary.
The two quickly get a fifth to the group with Quinn, whose investigating a hole in space near earth that the Infinity Guard is refusing to investigate for reasons you can probably guess, and soon teams up with our heroes are her only option of closing it. Together they must try to save little cato, close up the hole, and hopefully bond as a crew with Avacato learning to trust his new friend/love of his life and Quinn learning to do the same and realize the importance in saving little cato. KVN sadly dosen't learn to stop being annoying.
Naturally as the series goes on things get complicated. I wont spoil how as the series is heavily serialized, but needless to say things only get worse before they get better and along the way our heroes pick up more crew: Little Cato, who turns out to be an adorably hyperactive ball of energy who takes to Gary as a second dad, Nightfall(Sumpter Again) , a hardened older alternate quinn trying to badly prevent her own history from repeating itself, Bolo, a badass entity voiced by keith david who soon proves crucial to the series myth arcs and their success, Ash Grayven, an adorable teen cyclops voiced by Ashly Burch with a mysterious and terrible dark power who quickly became one of my faviorites, her brother Fox, voiced by Ron Funches before his career REALLY took off in the rol ltha tmade me love him, a tender giant with a gattling arm hand, a hatred for violence and for ventrexians, the Catos species, which give shim and LC a rivarly, Clarence, played by Conan O'Brian (Yes you read that correct), a skeezy little man who isn't at all fond of gary but is fond of half brained scheems and who adopted Ash and Fox, and Biskit, a tiny white cat again played by Rogers whose a technical wiz with no social skills or politness in his tiny body.
Together they try to survive out there in the void dealing with the Lord Commander and eventually other baddies: Todd H Watson (Played by Alan Tudyk) a forgetable villlian in a muppet suit despite again being played by Alan Tudyk, Cheryl, Claudia Black, Gary's fanservicey serial criminal mom who abandoned him and blames him for her marriage failing, and Invictus, the mysterious nightmarish entity behind everything.
Tone wise Final Space admitely starts off slightly rocky: Gary is a bit shouty (something that would get toned down as the series progressed , especially in Season 2 as Rogers, being a great dude, actually took fan feedback seriously), some of the jokes don't land and it takes a bit for the characters who aren't gary or Avacato to grow on you with HUE and Quinn not being the most likeable to start, HUE being Gary's warden and not shutting up about it and Quinn having to learn to both get help from others and that the mission to rescue LIttle Cato IS important. Understandably keeping one of the main characters imprisoned and not shutting up about it and refusing to rescue a child being used as a baragning chip, arne't great but both grow on you as they do: Quinn learns to stop being as regimented and let Gary in, and HUE is incredibly likeable once i'ts clear he actually does like gary and his previous behavior was him being literally programmed to do his job. Once the sentence is up he not only gladly keeps being Gary's AI, but admits too that KVN sucks.
It's worth sticking with though; The voice peformances are phenomoinal with rogers doing FOUR rolls, sometimes all in the same scene, and probably more i've forgotten, and easily being the standout in a cast full of actors I love in anything (Tennant, Burch, Yuen, David and Funches) and actors I love because of this series (galloway, black and sumpter). If Rogers needs something to help get him by while he tries to revivie this series or find a new project, he'd make a killing with voice work, as would Galloway.
Animatoin wise while the art style seems simple, it's incredibly gorgeous, with space depicted with shocking accuracey, and some truly gorgeous and haunting shots. It really makes everything feel as epic as the scopes says.
The writing once it gets to buisness really hit's it's stride ballancing comedy with the characters tragic pasts and loveable personalitiess; In the same episode we have the gang bet the ship on a game of the calvinball esque thimbles, a game with visors, laser bats, comblicated rules and dismemberment equalling points (which gary gladly abuses once he finds out to shoot clarence).. and then sequges into Ash's tragic backstory of her sister being sacrificed to a serpent god, her killing everyone present except said god, and her having to learn to let go of her pain in the belly of said beast. The show can be goofy as hell while still having a deep mythology, characters you love and cry over and some truly horrifying moments. And again a literal pissing match which you have to see for yourself.
youtube
I both wanted to show it off.. and to also prove that this did in fact happen and was indeed fun depsite having absolutely no right to be.
The show ballanced that with true moments of heartache, epic grandeaur and heart. Most of which I CAN'T share as while i've dropped some spoilers here, there's only so much I can spoil without just telling you about it beat for beat.
So please find a way and check out Final Space, Talk about it, tell your friends. Keep this series alive... both to show all this effort Olan, his writers, his animators, and his voice crew all put in didn't go to waste, and to show that people care. That this mattered. And that this show won't go away no matter how badly they try to write it off. It's back to back for life. Thanks for reading, consider joining my patreon, have a good evening.
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kimium · 1 year
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for the ask game: orchid, cactus, mahonia, and jasmine!
(From this ask HERE)
Thanks for the ask, friend! I love how we were talking about asks earlier today and now I have one!
Orchid: What's a song you consider to be perfect?
Perhaps this is sort of cheating, but I think One Summer's Day by Joe Hisaishi (from Spirited Away) is a perfect song. While there are no lyrics, as the song is instrumental, for me this song perfectly encapsulates summer time as a child. The slow start, reflects the languid, sluggish feeling of heat and lack of schedule. Routine clings through the entire song and it's only near the end that change rushes towards you, demanding to be noticed, unyielding in its approach. Change will come for you, but are you ready to deal with it?
Though, I suppose if you want a song with lyrics, then I think HEAVEN by Ayumi Hamasaki is perfect. It's a hauntingly beautiful song, but a sad song. The music video also lives entirely rent free in my brain.
Cactus: Something you're currently learning (about)?
Uh, well entirely against my will I need to learn more about ChatGPT just because it affects my work/job. Literally sat through two PD sessions last week on the topic...
Mahonia: What place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?
I don't know if I have a specific thing that inspires me. Instead, I think I find inspiration in the small pieces that I encounter every day. A quote I read on a tumblr post, a dessert I baked, the glow of the sun as it rises in the morning, the small window of time between my thoughts and sleep taking me, etc.
When I want to express myself I usually write. That's why I have so many fics. I also draw a lot, though it's all traditional media.
Jasmine: Do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?
Yes, I do.
When I was twelve I watched Rurouni Kenshin. I adored the series and it sparked my love of the Meiji era. I'll never forget binging the series and holding my breath with each fight and each challenge. I'll never forget how I felt when certain characters died. I'll never forget the OP. I'll never forget the dub, even if it was for a 90s anime.
However, knowing what the mangaka has done, I can never watch the series again. And I'm fine with that. Supporting real people hurting (even if my support feels minimal) is stronger and more important than a series I enjoyed as a child.
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thelonesomequeen · 6 months
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Yay!!! Do you have a favorite character? Or episode? I’ve watched Season 2 twice. I would blab and blab about The Bear, but I don’t want to spoil it on here for anyone who hasn’t watched the show. Sucks that we’re gonna have to wait for season 3 🫤
Okay, what?! Who are these people that hated the series finale?! I LOVED IT!!! I was just rewatching it last month. Yes… you and your husband should both watch it. It might take a couple episodes to get into (or maybe it won’t?) because at first I’m like, wait this show about rich business people? This is what everyone won’t STFU about? But then I couldn’t get enough. The pandemic made it feel longer than 4 seasons. Was saving memes about not knowing what to do with my life when it ended. 😂 I definitely recommend it!!! Was with someone a month after it ended and she’s like “why are you still talking about this show?! It ended weeks ago?!” But it’s one of my all time favorite shows. I am like that with the Wire too, I won’t shut about it and that show’s been off the air for yearsss. Was looking for gifs on Tumblr and stumbled across a blog that said “I don’t remember what my life was like before Succession.” I laughed too hard. Let me know if you get time to watch it!
I don’t remember exactly which episode it was, but the family Christmas dinner episode is where it’s AT! Solid performances from the entire cast and a situation that so many people can probably relate to in some way. But the whole show is very good. They really mail the look and sound of Chicago. Cousin Richie is def my favorite character. I thought he was just a funny side character in season 1, but they went so in depth with him in season 2 and you just feel for him with the way his story plays out. Did you know Matty Matheson who plays Neil is a legit chef in real life?
I’ll def let you know if we jump into Succession! I know it’s been praised by both audiences and critics, so that alone has caught my attention. I had intended to binge it all before the last season started so we could watch in real time but just ended up getting too busy to make it happen. And it’s always such a bummer when a show you love ends, even if you’re down with how it wraps up. I was like that with LOST. I still think about that damn show. And I know I’ll be the same way with Mrs. Maisel now that it’s over 😭 and I’m bummed about The Crown ending with the upcoming season. At least my search engines will get a break from me when it ends 😂 I swear it takes me twice as long as it should to watch an episode because I keep pausing to look things up and inevitably going down a dozen rabbit holes because of that one single search. And it happens every damn episode 😂🦎
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constantviewings · 1 year
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The TV Show Trials - Black Mirror
Black Mirror is a British anthology television series created by Charlie Brooker. Individual episodes explore a diversity of genres, but most are set in near-future dystopias with sci-fi technology.
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Is this weeks late? Yes. Do I care? No. Is it even finished? Also, no; but I will update this as I watch what’s left. For this review I decided to switch it up a little bit, I’ve watched the majority of Black Mirror before so instead of just reviewing every episode; I’m ranking them from worst to best.
The Waldo Moment
A failed comedian who voices a popular cartoon bear named Waldo finds himself mixing in politics when TV executives want Waldo to run for office.
It’s very difficult to make audiences care about fictional, local bi-elections and this episode is definitive proof of that. This episode is a major let-down not only as a season finale but being in-between the powerhouses of White Bear and White Christmas. Overall, it’s just a bad episode...
The Entire History of You
In the near future, everyone has access to a memory implant that records everything they do, see and hear. You need never forget a face again - but is that always a good thing?
While the concept is solid, and provides the baseline of technology going forward, the episode itself is too slow to justify its 50 minute runtime. While the stakes feel high, I’m not invested enough in the relationship to feel bad at its demise. Also, I think Charlie Brookers takeaway is bullshit, he thinks it’s Liam’s fault for looking for information that will upset him and that Claire just has ‘secrets’ and ‘still loves him’… she cheated on him while they were trying to have a baby! She’s just as bad as he is.
Men Against Fire
Future soldiers Stripe and Raiman must protect frightened villagers from an infestation of vicious feral mutants.
While not boring, I don’t really care for action and war heavy narratives, the message redeems this episode a lot for me. The idea of war propaganda dehumanising the ‘enemy’ to make it easier to kill them or wish for their death is portrayed to its extreme here.
Be Right Back
After learning about a new service that lets people stay in touch with the deceased, a lonely, grieving Martha reconnects with her late lover.
Another slow episode, but this is better than The Entire History of You because it focuses solely on the relationship and the aftermath of Ash’s death. Hayley Atwell and Domhnall Gleeson absolutely kill it as Martha and Ash; but can we expect any less from them?
Arkangel
After nearly losing her daughter, a mother invests in a new technology that allows her to keep track of her.
I know this episode is pretty divisive and, while I don’t find it particularly entertaining, the concept and discussion that it prompts is worth having. Like, is the Arkangel moral, does some of the footage count as CP, if giving someone emergency contraception against their will a human rights violation? It’s just unfortunate that the discussion surrounding the episode is more entertaining than the episode itself.
Playtest
An American traveler short on cash signs up to test a revolutionary new gaming system, but soon can't tell where the hot game ends and reality begins.
I feel like my reviews are already getting bad, and we’re only six episodes deep… Anyway, this episode is pretty scary, so it does its job as the sole horror episode of the series.
Fifteen Million Merits
In a world where people's lives consist of riding exercise bikes to gain credits, Bing tries to help a woman get on to a singing competition show.
Okay, time to get a little controversial. I think this episode is good, but not great. Daniel Kaluuya is phenomenal, and you can really see how far he’s come while also retaining those trademarks of his performances; especially with his eyes. My problem mainly lies in that it’s only really entertaining in the last half; but I don’t know what I would cut to make it shorter…
Hated in the Nation
In near-future London, police detective Karin Parke, and her tech-savvy sidekick Blue, investigate a string of mysterious deaths with a sinister link to social media.
Once again, another good episode, it’s just too long. I think it’s done a massive disservice by simply being known as ‘the killer bee episode’ because it’s so much more than the bees; but not much more to impress me.
Hang the DJ
Paired up by a dating program that puts an expiration date on all relationships, Frank and Amy soon begin to question the system's logic.
This episode and the next one are pretty evenly matched, I just like this one slightly less. This is mostly because the episode lags in the middle compared to the beginning and end.
San Junipero
When Yorkie and Kelly visit San Junipero, a fun-loving beach town full of surf, sun and sex, their lives are changed.
It’s just a good episode… can you tell I’m getting sick of writing these reviews?
Nosedive
A woman desperate to boost her social media score hits the jackpot when she's invited to a swanky wedding, but the trip doesn't go as planned.
I think this episode is great, especially as the introduction to this ‘new’ phase of Black Mirror on Netflix. Bryce Dallas Howard knocks it out of the park and the concept is great; espacially because it isn’t too dissimilar to how we currently live.
Crocodile
An insurance agent investigates a minor traffic incident using a device that manifests peoples' memories, but one of her witnesses has something to hide.
This is just fucking grim, isn’t it? While this episode is insanely devistating, that’s one of the reasons I rank it so highly, especially because it isn’t afraid for it’s main character to just be an awful and selfish person with no redemption. It’s really great to see.
Black Museum
A woman enters the Black Museum, where the proprietor tells his stories relating to the artifacts.
Where this episode’s strength is in the way they tie each story to each other. It could come across as a slap-dash clip show to fill out the season but those connections in the form of Rolo Hayes takes it beyond into being a great episode.
USS Callister
Capt. Robert Daly presides over his crew with wisdom and courage. But a new recruit will soon discover nothing on this spaceship is what it seems.
I’m going to be completely honest and admit that I was dreading re-watching this episode as I didn’t like it the first time around; but I can confindently say my opinion has changed. It’s way funnier than I had remembered it and Cristin Milioti does a phenomenal job, a stand out scene being the one in the lake.
The National Anthem
Prime Minister Michael Callow faces a shocking dilemma when Princess Susannah, a much-loved member of the Royal Family, is kidnapped.
We all knew this was coming but I bet you weren’t expecting to see it in my top five, were you? I could go on for eons about how this (and the rest of my top five) perfectly encapsulate the soul of Black Mirror as commentary on technology, polotics, and interpersonal conflicts; but you don’t want to hear that, you want to hear my defence. I think this episode is the perfect episode to start the show with, it’s shocking and a bit gross but it hooks you so quickly that you can’t help but watch ‘til the end. And let’s be honest, it’s exactly how society would react to this situation...
White Bear
Victoria wakes up and cannot remember anything about her life. Everyone she encounters refuses to communicate with her, and they all seem to know something she doesn't. But what?
You don’t need me to tell you how good this episode is, the rest of the internet can do that for me...
White Christmas
Three interconnected tales of technology run amok during the Christmas season are told by two men at a remote outpost in a frozen wilderness.
This is another episode where the internet can tell you how great it is, so I want to focus on something different. Like The Entire History of You, I don’t agree with Brooker’s interpretation of the conflict, sure Joe doesn’t seem like the best guy but his partner cheated on him and had another man’s child while blocking him and refusing to work things out like an adult. And while he may be an unreliable narrator, when you don’t give me anything to hint at the reality, I’ve got no choice but to believe the narrator...
Shut Up and Dance
When withdrawn Kenny stumbles headlong into an online trap, he is quickly forced into an uneasy alliance with shifty Hector, both at the mercy of persons unknown.
I’m sure you saw this coming after seeing where I put The National Anthem... I love this episode and and the way it draws you in to care about Kenny until you start thinking ‘the video’s pretty bad, but surely it’s not wirth all this right?’ all the way up to dropping the bombshell on what he was actually doing. And, even on rewatch, that reveal still makes me unbeleivably nauseous.
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sarinotsari · 2 years
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The Second Disappearing of Sarina Grace
A dramatic title for a dramatic return!
Okay, yes, I’m back on tumblr! Which can only mean one thing: things are not great. Actually as I’m writing this I’m feeling pretty good, but just in general it’s been... a lot. So I left twitter again around October 5th (aside from my secret personal side account which only 2 people have access to) and it’s been great to not be surrounded by that negativity anymore. Unlike last time, I did give a warning (which I kind of regret, but whatever). So basically this year has been a lot. I mean like... a LOT. I got in a relationship, ended the relationship, made new friends, ended friendships, got a crush, got over that crush (mostly... kind of), had two different twitter accounts (not including my game account, priv, and The Quarry account that all lasted like a month), had two different instagram accounts, ended up in the ER (and then got put on meds that made me so confused I still have no idea what happened during that period nor do I remember when I even went to the ER), and blacked out for around a week (I think?) where I was telling everyone I was God. So, yeah... it’s been a wild year. And I finally feel like I’m healing from it all and during the healing process I just realized twitter isn’t really fun anymore, so I left. Now, I’m not saying I feel great by any means but I do feel like I’m at a point where I can get to feeling great, if that makes sense.
And now for the questions segment (which is just reusing the same questions I used last time)!
Will you return to twitter?
No. Not in the way people might want me to. It’s not a fun app to me anymore and it serves no purpose to me, so I don’t need it. I might keep my secret side account active for awhile and allow one more person access, but I’ll never return to stan twitter. I’ll eventually create a personal account when I start posting youtube videos too so I can hopefully reach a wider audience.
Are your other social media accounts being affected by The Great Twitter Strike of 2022?
Not really. I’m still as active as usual on instagram, I just post more stories. Tumblr I do want to try to become more active on, but it’s not likely. Wattpad I completely abandoned last year. AO3 I don’t really use much but I’ll read the occasional fic, I just don’t post anymore (sorry to my abandoned monwinn series, RIP). And discord is even more boring than twitter but I keep it just to keep in contact with people. Any other social media platform is so irrelevant to me that I’ve forgotten about it.
Where are you in life?
Currently, I’m on the hunt for a job. I almost applied for one but the application was too long and I got bored (oops). I’ve also set up plans for my future to help me better get to my dream jobs. Also I’ll be 20 in a little over 5 months which is terrifying to think about but I also look forward to it.
How are you doing mentally?
Eddie Diaz, Jacob Custos, and Prue Halliwell are the only people I ever think of which speaks volumes about my mental state. I do feel like I’m at the best I’ve been since... honestly, since COVID began. There’s still room for improvement though!
What have you been up to?
Planning! I’m ready for my life to begin and I have a lot of plans in place so that I’m fully prepared. Once I do a little more planning, I’ll be able to actually start following the plans. Also I’ve started to binge True Jackson, VP because I’ve never seen it (in fact, I hadn’t even heard of it until last year) and it’s amazing. I think once I finish it I might start Days of Our Lives just for Zach Tinker (but really, is it worth it? I refuse to watch The Vampire Diaries because Chris Wood is barely in it, am I really gonna start watching a soap opera for a few scenes of Zach?)
Did you write this entire post because you were bored?
Like last time, that is exactly the reason I made this post and it will likely happen again.
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watch you burn away | c.g
You see his eyes when she passes by, blinking owlishly with something you can only call love. His attention trails after her, like she's the only thing left in the world — the only thing important.
So you help him. He asks you why she did what she did. What you think she thought. And you tell all. You explain the ‘intricacies’ of the (not so) average teenage girl.
You’re fueling the fire to a first love thats entirely their own, while you sit on the standby. Your mother always did tell you that one day you’d dig your own grave.
You like Carl. It’s as simple as that. It just seems he doesn’t feel the same. You learn to live with it.
WARNINGS: mentions of murder, suicide(?), and abuse (not really, just makes sense if you’ve watch twd s5/6)
(cross-posted on ao3!)
                                                           𖥔 𖥔 𖥔
You don’t know when it started.
You don’t think you want to know, anyways. Going down that path, remembering and remembering each memory that's soft emotions surrounding it has since then hardened into inauspicious spikes. It’d break you. A bullet through glass.
The group you’re with — the family you found — have accustomed to this life. A normal life. Meals at the dinner table, walks around the block, gardens, neighbors, the whole fake wrap-up. Alexandria was like a drug, lowering your defenses — but oh so addicting.
It was so easy to forget what was outside.
Even he does, and he’s the last person you’d think to. He’s started to fade out of the persona he created for himself. You sit on the floor in his room, eyes trailing every bit that he’s decorated. It’s a piece of himself that isn’t the survivor, the piece that is a normal teenage boy.
“Do you think we can be safe here?” Your words leave your mouth without much acknowledgment from you, a haze setting in on your mind. You need to sleep.
He doesn’t respond, at least for a moment. The flicking pages of Invincible (or Science-dog — you’re unsure what series he’s binging, at the moment) and your mutual breathing is the only thing in the air. He’s processing it — and you know it’s a valid question. You’ve all been asking yourselves that.
“I,” He paused again, “Yes. I — I think we can be. We need to be.” He said, dropping his voice to a whisper at the end.
“But—“
“The prison was safe. I know.” He cuts you off with a nod. He was stating a fact, something you both knew. The prison was somewhere you thought you could forget for a while.
(Maybe more than a while.)
The next week, the conversation starts itself again. You’re not trying to push whatever you’re trying to hear — you’re just nervous.
And he tells you, “I want to be safe. Here, I mean.” and tells you he doesn’t want to be the person he ‘needed to be’ all the time. “It eats at me. I — I don’t know. It’s tiring.”
So, he sheds it. He’s realer, this way. You know he pretends to be tough, be mature, be someone who can be a good shot, someone who can kill if need be, someone who can partially raise his sister, because he’d shot his mother when he was thirteen and his father was busy running a community that was just… incredulously ignorant — all in one.
It’s good. Good for him. He doesn’t look so pained these days. He used to look like he had the world's weight sitting on him, and him alone, breaking himself under the pressure slowly, until there’d be nothing left.
But you don’t think you can shed that persona.
The person you needed to be has long since become the person you really are, and the you who’d put on that shell has disappeared. The line blurred so far that there wasn’t— wouldn’t be coming back from it.
You had been smudged away in the background. You were an artists easel, holding onto each canvas like nothing else — the canvas that was a child, the canvas that was a teenager barely holding on, the canvas that was a cold survivor — and now, you’d have to wait for the circumstances to paint the next one for you.
With the new environment, the new him, and the you who had to keep changing and changing like a chameleon, comes new people.
Everyone is nice. They had to be. They weren’t stained by what happened outside. Didn’t hold the blood of their own and the blood of those who they killed just to keep on in their hands, their nails, their body.
(No matter how hard you scrubbed, the blood never went away. You’d never feel clean, you think.)
Their life had kept impenetrable for years. You didn’t believe in God, never did, but what kind of praying were these people doing to be buried in such guaranteed luck? What was it about them?
Then, there was her. And she sweeps him off his feet. A brisk appearance is all he needs for his presence to follow like a lovesick puppy. You call out for him to “Be safe!” in an imitation of his fathers tone with a chuckle, ignoring the faint burn you feel in your heart. You just ate too quickly.
But, you get it. She’s… something new. Undiscovered. The two of you have long exhausted conversations. You know all about him, while he knows all about you. From favourites to birthdays to whispered memories of before.
(“—And I didn’t have enough frosting, so we gave up and threw the cake at each other.” He says, looking up at the cell ceiling.
You let out an ungodly laugh, and he punches you lightly in the shoulder. “It’s not that funny.”
When you don’t respond, he looks at you, a grin slowly forming on his lips.)
Your time together dwindles. Slowly, but surely, it’s soon harshly evident. You’ll share the occasional hangout. Sitting in silence, doing whatever it was you’d felt to do so at the moment, which had been comfortable once before.
Now, you don’t know what it is.
Days he said he’d swing by your place, he tells you he’d forgotten he’d promised to do something with her. He apologizes over and over, and It’s fine, really, you tell him. It is. It’s fine.
You’re fine.
You hate to be dramatic. Truly, you prided yourself on the way life walked by you, without so much as a word or a thought about it. Sometimes you think that you’re wrong for it, and he does too.
“I think you’re just overcompensating for something.” He says when you tell him, a joking twinge in his voice. You push him lightly, a laugh escaping your throat.
However, he’s right. You pour emotion like a fountain, and the only way you’ve found to cope is to place a plug on that bottle. Let life pass you by.
This was the person you needed to be. Someone who didn’t so much as shed a tear when people were there, then gone. You weren’t trying to be heartless. You were trying to ignore it all.
It’ll explode one day. You know. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.
If you get there. You didn’t know if you would be here for long — and if you’d bother to do so, anyways. You’d found salvation now, but who’s to say it would stay? It would soon enough be ripped out of your hands greedily, drunk up by someone who deemed their needs to be more important than your own.
Those thoughts swim and swim around endlessly, tying together thick and bundled, until it’s nearly filled your head, and you’ve got to clear it out. To do so, you busy yourself. Reading books ravenously. You didn’t even like books before. But it’s a quick, and easy way to ignore. Ignore, ignore, ignore.
With that, you find that no one bothers you in your room. A knock or two every few hours, and a light-hearted ‘I’m reading!’ makes for long hours alone. The silence isn’t so much overbearing as it is nostalgic.
You remind yourself to ask him for the Wolf-Man comic you didn’t finish, and when you do so, she’s reading it, splayed across his bed like she always had.
(You’re pathetic, you think.)
(He looks at you from his desk, a questioning look on his face. Your cheeks burn with a light embarrassment that none of them knew for. “I’m looking for Judith, do you know where she went?” You say, pasting on a sheepish smile.)
(You hoped it reached your eyes.)
You woke up in your closet today. The bed is too big, your limbs not nearly reaching the corners. It’s an endless ocean, and there's no hands to pull you out this time. You’re much too used to huddling in claustrophobic and closed space. Pushed against others in an attempt to keep warm.
(You remember. His breath fanning on your neck feverishly, as you pulled him closer to your person. Hands running through his hair, tugging lightly for comfort.
Nothing went further. Most things you did — things that could dare to tread the wall sat between more and the same — never went further. The two of you couldn’t find it in yourself to climb it.)
A wall he liked to climb was one with her. Figuratively, and literally. You see him climb the bars from the view of your window. It’s day after day, at this point, helping each other over and back.
You can’t bring yourself to follow, nor even leave the closet. You begin to take books from the library faster. You return and you take and you read at an alarming rate. This was your normality, everyone supposed.
(Not many knew of the you before it all, and just assumed you were one to read.
Someone knew you weren’t, but he was preoccupied. It was alright. You get it.)
Soon enough, life went on in waves. You grew a few inches. He had a growth spurt, quickly leaving you behind. It was becoming a pattern, at this point.
Michonne asks why she hasn’t seen you with him lately. You paste on a smile, “It’s definitely my fault — I can’t stop reading! I haven’t touched a book in ages, and it’s all too fun.”
Before she can respond (and you know you wouldn’t have liked the answer, as her eyebrows pulled together in a furrow, unconvinced and prying expression in place) you pick up Judith, watching her look longingly at the porch. You might as well get some air, if not just for her.
One day, he catches you by surprise. He asks you to help him with homework. You agree, and it soon turns to comics in comfortable silence, once again.
(You don’t know why. You weren’t complaining, but you really — really didn’t know why.)
And then he apologized. Hushed words in the evening hallway after dinner, murmurs of his stupidity and selfishness. He’s too good to you.
His blue eyes peak out from under his long, brown hair, another apology just sitting on his tongue. His hands tangle against each other nervously, a habit he picked up somewhere along the way.
The silence hangs over you like a cloud, waiting and waiting. And you tell him it’s okay. You tell him, “I never made time. I was caught up.” and he visibly relaxes. His breath drops, and his shoulders look lighter.
His lips split into a grin, reaching ear to ear. You remember what it was about him, the thing that made your mind go in circles and your heart sink up and down.
(And later, you try to forget it all again. You were so close to erasing it all. So close.)
Days go by where you only get a glimpse or a quick patch of conversation with him, and some days where you almost feel like it’s back then, just the two of you in a big, big world.
And you see him again, on the porch, looking out on the neighborhood, he gives you a quick wave.
She appears from the edge of the house, hand clasping into the other that's not waving, and does, too.
You’re okay with it all, really. You get to be his friend, and that’s all that matters in that silly little mind of yours.
You can ignore. You were good at that.
(Ignore the hands that hold each other carefully, cradling eachothers faces in the dark, heads on shoulders, soft words exchanged between them and them alone.)
It was easy. Incredibly easy.
(And it horrified you.)
Topics of her worm their way into your conversation sometimes. He asks, “What the hell did she mean by that?” and you echo a thick laughter. You wonder if he could still tell which laughs were real or not.
You see his eyes when she passes by, blinking owlishly with something you can only call love. His attention trails after her, like she's the only thing left in the world — the only thing important.
So you help him. He asks you why she did what she did. What you think she thought. And you tell all. You explain the ‘intricacies’ of the (not so) average teenage girl.
You’re fueling the fire to a first love thats entirely their own, while you sit on the standby. Your mother always did tell you that one day you’d dig your own grave.
And then, she comes to you, too. It’s a few days before his birthday, and she’s pacing around your room and twisting and pulling and fidgeting with her fingers like the world is about to end.
(Ha.)
Her hands move dramatically and graphically — it’s the most emotion you’ve seen from her. She rambles, quickly and nervously, and she sits down on your bed, now, “I don’t know what to get him — it’s in four days —“ and you’re worried she’ll run out of air and pass out on your bedroom floor, so you dig an edition of Guarding The Globe from inside your closet, placing it in her hands.
She looks at you, wide eyed “What’s this?” She says, though she looks entirely desperate for a solution to her problem, eyes darting on the paper.
You snort, “It’s the issue of Guarding The Globe he’s been looking for, for, like, ages.” And she places the comic on your bed, gently, getting up, wrapping her arms around you. You try not to flinch, and it takes a long moment before she lets go. Her grip is incredibly strong.
(When she leaves, you sigh, and scratch your head, wondering what you were supposed to get him, now.)
They were good for eachother. Two puzzle pieces that clicked, and needed not much else. The kind of people who should be the main characters in a movie, side by side while eliminating every threat that’d come in the way of their love. Partners in crime, accomplices in a murder, their very own Bonnie & Clyde — the whole thing.
And then there were people like you — people like Ron. He was nearly a mirror image of you.
You two were no Bonnie & Clyde, but rather a double edged sword that longed for a user who’d much rather spar.
Your stories were the same, glancing starry eyed at one piece of the couple with a lump in your throat and a foggy mind, but you weren’t the same, because you handled your one-sidedness differently in any way two teenagers could be different.
He didn’t pretend that he could still stay her #1, but you could swallow that pill, even if it took a little pretending. He let his emotions out raw, while yours curdled underneath yourself, for it to burst much hotter, much more caustic, than anything Ron could spit out in a heated moment.
You could see the glare building up in his gaze towards him. Sometimes, you felt that too, watching her touch make his cheeks flush with heat. But you knew nothing came of it.
(But sometimes, you couldn’t help but seeth in your emotions. The bottle had spilled one night in your closet, leaving you an empty mess of a body as crumpled as the papers beside you.)
Maybe that was why you’d become friends.
Friendship was unlikely with someone like Ron. He was brash and charismatic. An extroverted entity with zero knowledge of a many horror outside. A boy.
But he was just that. A simple teenager. Maybe it was the fact you two shared a pair of unrequiteds, quiet feelings, a plummeting heart, or maybe it was just the duality of two teenagers. You’d never know.
Sometimes, the two of you sit in his room (or yours, but the both of you seem all too upset when you see the couple jump the wall with brimming grins) and talk. That’s all you do. Talk.
Ron is a complex person, you learn.
(As complex as someone like him can be, anyways.)
He’s ignorant, sure, watching the outside longingly like it’s some walk in the park, but he tells you, “I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I might as well have bars on my window.” and you aren’t surprised when he tells you his brother did, for a time.
His father is dead, and he’s angry, now more than ever. You can’t help but see yourself in that place, a putrid ball of unearthed anger, sitting in the grief. 
Ignoring it.
You only saw your parents' killer in the mirror — but you were the closest person to knowing how it felt like.
Most days, he’s shaking, a shadow of a person appearing in his expression. You nod and listen and calm the teenager down, and aren’t scared when he punches the wall.
(You’d been that way too, looking at the broken mirror shards in a way that was more than dangerous.)
And on the odd days, he cries. You can make out some of it — “It’s — it’s my fault,” he says between hiccups, burying his tears in your shoulder, “He wouldn’t have done it, he wouldn’t if it wasn’t for…” and he trails off. You don’t need him to finish that sentence to know what he means.
You feel silly, now, listening to Ron’s words. You’ve scorned the boy for wanting so desperately to see the outside, watching his eyes glance at it like he’d just discovered colours — but you now know he’s just been trying to escape.
But there’s the matter of him and Ron, and you know the blonde boy’s anger is soon seething and boiling (much like yours, which worries you, for Ron was never one to wait) to a cold and harsh fury.
“You know it’s not Carl’s fault, right?” You slip out one evening.
You’re tuning the end of the guitar that Ron couldn’t (quite frankly, you couldn’t either, but playing around was fun enough) while he rearranged furniture in his room.
His face contorts into that of a disgusted agony, lips pulled into a shaky scowl, eyes thinned. But he looks at you, on the wooden floor, hands lightly twisting and turning the guitar end.
You aren’t worried about his response, and he realizes you aren’t trying to scold him— or even correct him. You just want to listen. And it makes all the difference in the world.
“You don’t have to answer that.” You say apologetically.
”No — it’s… it’s fine,” He says emptily, hanging a picture of a tree (or a cloud, you’re unsure) above his desk. “I don’t blame him, but,” He says, voice sounding defeated, as if realizing something of great importance, “I don’t not blame him.”
A moment of silence passes, “I sound silly, don’t I?” He mumbles, gazing at the picture.
You look at him, “No. Not at all.”
Ron fidgets with his fingers, “It isn’t his fault. I know that. Deep down. I just — want someone to blame.”
You watch him carefully. He picks up the painting, and flips it upside down (definitely a cloud, now) setting it back on the nail.
”I suppose it’s my dad’s fault. Entirely.” He murmurs.
You blink at him wide-eyed.
The topic isn’t touched on much after that night, but these days, he smiles a little brighter, and doesn’t have very many bad days.
On the other hand, you’re harder to crack. You — you don’t find it relieving to share these things. You feel weak. Vulnerable.
You feel that if you opened that bottle willingly, not waiting for it to burst in a mess of hurt and glass, you’d be softening.
You shook your head, and opted to spill little, insignificant things.
You tell Ron how you wish it was you. It’s a carefully crafted white lie. It mixes the truth and it’s embellishments like paint, pigmented and opaque.
“I’m… jealous, I guess.” You say with a soft shrug that makes you want to roll your shoulders harshly until that pain ceases forcibly.
..You don’t know if you want it to be you, or if you just want him to be alone. All to yourself, like a toy in a sandbox that your mother tells you to share with the other little girl across from you.
But it can’t be that way. As much as you needed him, like he was a rope on the edge, a hand in the water, pressure on a gaping wound — he didn’t need you. Maybe it was better that way.
You knew, that was the kind of people who would survive in this world. Your mother wasn’t someone who could live on after your father, and it resulted in you shooting them point blank.
The dependable becomes the dependent, you supposed, thinking of that time that felt like yesterday.
You weren’t a dependable person then, not really. You pulled the trigger because her hands pushed you to do so, and even then, the only thing that had changed was the fact you’d become a murderer and that you were now an orphan. One and the same.
You had barely held onto the cliff called life — if you could call it living it all — and were just about to let go when the rope came crashing down on you.
“What’re you thinking about?” He says, looking back at his window after taking a glance at you.
“Nothing.” You respond, biting the side of your cheek impatiently, trying to get a knot out of your shoelaces.
It's quiet. Comfortable and not, all at the same time. A mixed medium. You didn’t know if you’d be completely comfortable beside that boy again.
“Am I,” He looks out the window once more, tapping his fingers on the glass with the pads of his finger-tips, “Am I a bad person?”
What?
“What?” You echo after your thoughts, fingers slowing from your shoes.
“Am I a ba—“
You shake your head incredulously, “I heard what you said, — what brought this up?”
He scratched his cheek, “I don’t know.”
You look at him accusingly. “I’ve killed people, [Name], I’ve killed people . Not walkers — people .” He caves.
“So? I’ve killed people. I killed my parents , god’s sake , Carl, we’ve all killed people.”
“I killed that boy, back at the prison. He — he was putting down his gun. He was surrendering . And I shot him .” He faces you fully now, lips pursed painfully. His eyes are rimmed red, like he’s had this conversation before, mulled over it endlessly.
(You always reminded the boy to stop thinking for once. He couldn’t, not without your reminders. It didn’t help much, but you were a distraction. A good one, at that.)
(You supposed that’s all you were, really. A pass time before he’d go off with her. Advice to Ron before he’d go on to Mikey’s. The real fucking manual to his heart, given solely from your own — now in permanent bleeding possession of her.)
“We’ve — Carl, you,” You can’t respond properly. His expression sends your gut off the deep end, heart shattering into sharp shards.
He watches you carefully, shoulders curved in on himself. “You aren’t a bad person .” You finally say.
He looks so small . Shaking in the evening light. So, you do what you’ve done every time before.
Your lanky arms slip around him, gently, like he’ll break, tugging at his brown locks comfortably.
“I’m — I’m going to hurt her. I’m a monster, [Name].” He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t catch it.
“You won’t hurt her. You won’t, Carl. Enid’s,” You try not to take in how sour her name feels on your tongue, “she’s strong. You’re strong. You aren’t going to hurt her .”
He’s warm, under your touch, “You didn’t hurt me. And I’m a hell of a lot weaker than what she’s got going on.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, pulling away from you. His eyes squint with his laughter, teeth showing under his grin.
And it makes your heart absolutely tear into each other. Because you know he’ll never be yours — and maybe you always knew that, but this, all of this, had solidified it. His tears were her’s and her heart was his, and you stood, watching (and fucking making ) it happen.
But you’d grow used to it. You’d grow to live with it. You just had to ignore, pretend, slip on a smile, try to get it to reach your eyes — do everything , because your heart was his — just not the same way round. You’ll do everything, and cheer them on in the distance.
Distance. You’d have to start with that.
But not now. The two of you in his room, moonlight spilling through the glass window, feeling the ghost of his touch under your finger tips — it was everything you wanted to drink in.
It’d last you a lifetime, and it was something you’d lock away into that bottle of everything. It was your moment, and yours alone, hidden in the shade and away from everything else. Your prized snowglobe.
You fidgeted lightly with your fingers, a habit you picked up somewhere along the way.
-
sequel series here!
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queenshelby · 3 years
Text
My Friend’s Father (Part Five)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Age Gap, Mild Sexual References
Words: 1,848
Notes:
I have decided to make this into a series.
Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.
 *************************
YOUR POV
Two weeks had passed since you visited your friend Denise in Dublin and it was time for the annual Galway Arts Festival.
Denise had been working on a photography project for the past year and had been nominated for a student award in Galway as part of which ten of her photographs were being displayed during the Arts Festival.
Whilst, as you had expected, Cillian didn’t contact you, you knew that he would be there to support his daughter. Being an artist himself, he was very proud of her and her work and he supported her projects not only mentally but also financially with the caveat that she would finish her degree at Trinity College.
Unlike him, he didn’t want her to drop out of university even though she hated it and you certainly understood his reasoning.
Contrary to Denise, you had no creative bone in your body. You enjoyed art and theatre, but weren’t an artist or performer yourself. Instead, you were an A Grade Law Student who had become rather bored in Galway and had recently applied for a scholarship to Oxford University.
Reading was your passion and you had always been known as a geek. In school, you were the girl that no one liked, nerdy, not interested in fashion or social media and wearing braces, which, luckily, had been removed three years ago.
You were shy and it was only for Denise that you came out of your shell. She was popular in school, mostly due to her name, but also because she was generally confident and, over the years, she helped you gain confidence especially after you had left high school.
But, today, you knew you would be questioning your gained confidence once again since, first of all, you would be seeing Cillian again and the truth was that you couldn’t stop thinking about him in an intimate way and, secondly, you were featured completely naked on some of Denise’s photographs.
Whilst the photographs were artistic and not sexual in any way and your most intimate part wasn’t visible on them, it bothered you knowing that people you disliked would see you so vulnerable and you couldn’t remember why you had agreed to being photographed like that.
The other woman who Denise chose to photograph was Amalie. She was 23 and had been Denise’s friend for a while as well but, unlike you, she began modelling professionally when she was just 16. You all went to the same private school together and, clearly, her lifestyle had been largely financed by her parents. She always wore expensive clothes and had no interest in pursuing a career other than modelling, which barely sustained her lifestyle considering the few small jobs she got.
***
Just as you served your last cup of coffee to an elderly lady sitting in the corner of the café you were working at, you saw Denise, Amalie and two other friends of Denise walk in.
‘Hey guys, take a seat. I will be right with you. I am just about to finish my shift’ you said as you hung up your apron.
‘Please tell me you will get changed before the Gallery opening tonight?’ Amalie asked somewhat weirdly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you sat down at the table with her, Denise and the others before ordering some coffees for yourselves.
‘No, I thought I would go like this’ you said sarcastically, looking down at your coffee-stained clothes.
‘I bought a dress for tonight’ you then said, after Amalie didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm.
‘Right’ she then said as she flicked through Instagram and you simply looked at Denise who shrug her shoulders.
‘What are you looking for?’ you asked curiously as her eyes seemed to be glued to her phone.
‘She is looking to find more photos of my dad and Laura Jennings’ Denise said, rolling her eyes.
‘Laura Jennings, as in the actress?’ you asked, causing Amalie to nod.
‘Yes, apparently they have been dating’ Amalie then confirmed, causing you to swallow harshly. You knew that you shouldn’t care but you couldn’t help it. Knowing that Cillian was seeing someone made you feel ill.  
‘And you care about that why?’ you then asked Amalie after an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine.
‘Apparently, just like you, Amalie thinks my dad is a DILF’ Denise huffed out before telling you how disgusting you all were.
‘Well, he is though…he is super hot’ Amalie then joked before carrying on. ‘And I don’t understand how you don’t know about Laura Jennings and whether this is true or not. You need to find out’ Amalie then said but Denise simply shook her head.
‘My father doesn’t share this sort of stuff with me and I certainly don’t want to know about his sex life, thank you very much. In so far as I am concerned, he doesn’t have sex, ever…yuck! Also, I would appreciate if you could not talk about my dad anymore, please. It grosses me out’ Denise said and you knew that, all of this had become a common occurrence ever since the day the first episode of Peaky Blinders aired on BBC, a show which Denise refuses to watch herself because of the heavy sexual content and a show which you, only a week ago, had begun to binge watch.
Cillian’s POV
When Cillian walked into the basement after you had left, he immediately saw the small folded up note you had left him but, reading it, made him somewhat uncomfortable.
He was torn about what to do with it and certainly knew that he should ignore it. He couldn’t see you again even if he wanted to.
The fact that you were 23 years younger than him and that you were his daughter’s best friend made it all wrong and highly inappropriate and he didn’t know what had gotten into him in the first place when he gave into you.
He had never felt attracted towards you in any sort of way until that last visit which was the first time had seen you since you and your family had moved away.
You changed in many ways and he wasn’t sure what it was that he liked about you. But what he knew was that it was more than just sexual attraction, which was usually something he knew how to supress.
With that in mind, he placed your note into his wallet and decided to ignore it for now. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw it out.
***
With his bags packed it was time for him to return to Manchester and resume filming of the final season of Peaky Blinders.
The first week of filming went well and Cillian decided to spend the weekend with his friend, fellow actress Laura Jennings. Cillian and her had developed a friend with benefits sort of relationship. No strings attached and no feelings involved. After his divorce from Denise’s mother, he wasn’t ready for anything else and Laura would certainly not have been the type of woman he would have wanted a relationship with in the first place.
Unlike him, she wasn’t press shy and, whilst they kept their arrangement a secret as best as they could, she was otherwise quite active on social media.
Cillian, on the other hand, only maintained a private Instagram account with the sole purpose of being able to check on his children. Whilst they were adults, he was still worried about them, especially Denise who had recently gotten herself in a lot of trouble after distancing herself from this Jeremy boy.
***
‘Another wine?’ Laura asked as Cillian was relaxing on top of the doonas, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs, after they had spent the last hour doing exactly what friends with benefits would do after not having seen each other for over two weeks due to busy filming schedules.
‘Yes please…thanks’ he responded as he reached for his phone after a notification had popped up.
It was his daughter Denise who had posted on Instagram and, since she hadn’t posted for a while, he decided to check it out, hoping that she wasn’t with Jeremy again.
To his surprise, three new pictures of Denise and her friends showed up when he opened the APP and, one of them, there was you.
In the picture, you were wearing accompanied by a man in his late twenties, wearing a suit while you were wearing a dark blue dress and he couldn’t help but wonder who the man by your side was.
You looked simply stunning, with your hair long and open and your shoulders exposed. You were wearing only a little bit of make up and showed your beautiful smile.  
‘There you go Mr Murphy’ Laura then said as she returned to the bedroom with another glass of wine, pulling Cillian’s phone out of his hand and climbing on top of him.
‘Round Two?’ she then asked eagerly as she reached for another condom, but Cillian’s thoughts were elsewhere entirely.
‘Maybe tomorrow, I am tired. It has been a long week, sorry’ he explained, causing Laura to pout with disappointment.
But the second round never eventuated as Cillian left Laura’s house the following morning to drive back to Manchester to resume filming.
On his way back to Manchester, he called his daughter Denise to check on her and while he did, he enquired about your companion on the Instagram posts.
‘Why do you want to know?’ Denise asked somewhat confused but Cillian played it cool.
‘He looks familiar, that’s all. Didn’t he go to your school?’ he then asked, playing dumb.
‘Oh god no, he is 29. His name is Connor and he is an accountant. Y/N wouldn’t date anyone our age. You know she isn’t a normal 21-year-old’ Denise joked, referring to your nerdiness and intellect.
‘Apparently not’ Cillian chuckled before asking another question about the stranger on the picture. ‘So, they are dating?’ he asked.
‘I think they went on two or three dates or something. Why do you care?’ Denise asked.
‘No reason. I was just wondering’ Cillian confirmed before changing the topic.
   Tag List:
@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​
@peaky-cillian​
@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  
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charthanry · 2 years
Text
My BBS Journey
This is an ode to the best BL show I've ever watched. Mark it, signed and noted January 20, 2022.
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With only hours left before the finale airs and my journey with BBS ends, I wanted to get some thoughts down so I can look back and remember how I felt about this series. No guarantee that this won't be disjointed and rambly. Or that it won't end up being a gush fest for OhmNanon (spoiler: it totally will).
To say that this show and OhmNanon own me is an understatement. They had me from the first note of the opening song. I came to BBS for Ohm; knew he was special since his Make It Right days, followed him to He's Coming to Me and everything since and in between. Ohm is an exceptional actor, one with the rare ability to fully use his spatial awareness to completely capture his audience. He is versatile with excellent comedic timing, a solid grasp of the dramatic beats, and is just so natural in his delivery that you forget he was ever any character other than the one you are currently watching. He also has the rare ability to have this instinctual chemistry with anyone cast opposite him, this is no small feat. You buy into his on screen relationships because Ohm fully commits. He makes everyone better. And does it while making it look so effortless that you're just a puddle of awe on the floor. It's wild to me that he's still somewhat underrated and underappreciated in the acting world. Like what? How? Do people not have eyes?
I wasn't as familiar with Nanon, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I came for Ohm but stayed for Nanon. All the acting superlatives and awards are one thousand percent deserved when it comes to Nanon. I've never seen anyone act so convincingly with just their eyes. The saying 'eyes are the windows to the soul' is very apt here. With Nanon, you feel what he feels, just from his eyes alone. He projects every emotion from annoyed to bashful to distraught with barely any facial movement and it's just like whaaaat?? How is that even possible? And to think he's so young and is only scratching the surface of his craft. I can't wait to see what else he does. I think he'll surprise us again and again. ALSO I've never seen a more beautiful crier in my life. And I never knew that a person's freaking dimples could be an entire character on a show. We were blessed to see these boys share the screen together as partners elevating each other; two halves of a whole. I doubt we'll ever get to experience this again; does lightning ever strike twice?
I'm usually a binge-watcher. I'm incredibly impatient so BBS is the first drama I've ever watched as it was airing. And oh boy was it a special brand of agony waiting for new episodes each week. But you know what? In some ways it made the journey that much more fulfilling. The anticipation was thrilling. The sherlocking of previews of the next episode was utterly enjoyable. I don't envy those who get to devour all 12 episodes in one go (okay, maybe a little, but not in the way you'd think). I'm mostly envious of those who get to experience BBS for the first time with open hearts and open minds and then to be entirely consummed by the superior acting, directing, editing and music. It's like reading this amazing book, getting sucked in completely by the author's world, to love each moment and scene so much that you want to crawl inside it and simply live in that moment forever. To know that you can never go back and experience that first time ever again. It's like that.
I watch BL alone and only partially by choice (I get annoyed at interruptions when I'm immersed in a show... yes, I'm a shush-er), but also because I don't know anyone else IRL that enjoys BL. BBS isn't my first show and probably won't be my last, but where it stands out amongst the many is that I've never felt the need to talk about my watching experience (probably because all previous viewings were of the binge-variety). For BBS, not only did I create a tumblr account to engage with other fans but I also started using twitter too just to get the latest rumors and spoilers. IRL I'm a shy introvert so this branching out and seeking out others to discuss BBS is a whole level of scary and unfamiliar. But it was also a necessity. I HAD TO find people to talk BBS with, there was no other way to get through the week. But what surprised me the most was I fully anticipated lurking and reading blog and twitter posts and nodding along to myself, never posting my own content. But here I am nearly 300 tumblr posts later. So I want to thank you tumblr friends and BBS enthusiasts for making it easy to join and engage. To know exactly what I mean when I say, Ohm completely slayed this episode or Nanon served and ate that scene. Thank you for getting it, truly.
But the end, as they say, is near and while I'm sad that we've reached this point, another part of me is happy I get to be here for it, to live the ending as it happens. To experience it with so many of you who all understand how special BBS is and how it's more than just a show, it's a legacy in the making. Since episode one, BBS was out to set the BL world afire, to subvert expectations and turn the ordinary into a game-changing, genre-busting, and an award-worthy masterpiece. BBS set the bar and I'll be surprised if any show that comes after it will ever match it in quality let alone surpass it. There's only so much organic magic to be had and BBS may have used it all up. More incredibly at the crux of all of this...is a simple love story made extraordinary by a wonderful script, masterful acting and impeccable direction. Underneath all of that though is a tale as old as time- of two people who just want to be free to love and live the way they deserve. And isn't that simply what we all want?
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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years
Text
teary eyed and beautiful
18+!! minors do not interact with this fic. if you do, you will be blocked.
summary -> steve feels awful about it, he does, but it’s something he just can’t help. 
words -> 2.0k
warnings -> dacryphilia (being turned on by someone’s crying/tears), sub!steve, use of nicknames (honey, stevie baby/baby) handjob, unprotected penetrative sex, graphic wording (c*ck, c*nt, p*ssy, etc.)
notes -> i’m still new to nsfw, i’m exploring what i can write pls be gentle in your judgement of those scenes! also i am a sucker for sub!steve just something about that six foot man begging for you makes me 🥵
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It makes him feel guilty. 
The way your eyes turn glassy and the whites of them grow a little red. Your makeup running down your cheeks and the heat he feels on your them when his hand comes up to wipe stray tears away. 
So incredibly guilty for the rush of butterflies that flies through him and the want he feels for you when you look like this. 
“What a joke.” You cry out as the screen fades to black. “Why are you making me watch this show still?” 
The answer to that makes Steve feel worse. You’re pretty when you cry. “It was the first show I watched out of the ice, I thought you would like it.” It wasn’t a lie. That was why he had originally put the first episode of Game of Thrones on a couple weeks ago. 
Then when he had first turned to see your reaction to one particularly emotional episode, he had decided he just had to watch the entire series with you.
Steve had initially been shocked and ashamed by the effect your teary eyes had on his body. Now while he still felt incredibly guilty, he let himself enjoy the reaction in realization it was the only way he would get it. He would never intentionally make you cry with harsh words or anything mean, but television shows and movies allowed him to relish this feeling. 
“Well I can’t do this anymore!” You sniffle again. You rub harshly at your eyes as the credits play on the screen. “Steve, so many people die!” You look over at him with pretty, glassy eyes and Steve almost moans. 
He had tried. He swears to whatever God was out there that he had tried to get over this weird affinity he had for your tears. “Well you have to see how it ends.” Steve smiles kindly at you and his hand comes up to rest on your cheek. “I promise, it gets better.” 
You scoff, but lean into his palm. “I find that hard to believe.” Then you let out a resigned sigh. “But I can’t just not finish this show. You’re lucky I love you, Steve Rogers, or else I would call it quits on this binge watch.” 
The opening credits begin to play, the strong instrumental blasting through the television speakers and you curl into Steve’s side again. His arm wraps around your shoulders as the scene begins to play, but his eyes find their way to you every few minutes and he relishes in the remnants of your tears. 
So focused on your eyes, he doesn’t see your smirk. 
“One more episode! Then we can go to bed!” You plead with Steve. He shakes his head and tries his best to hide how painstakingly hard he is. “Come on, old man,” you shove gently at his shoulder, “it’s not even past your bedtime.” 
The last episode had left you with choked breaths and tears quickly streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto your collarbones. Steve could barely look at you without thinking of how badly he wanted to be inside of you.
“I’m tired, honey. I want to shower before bed.” He groans before placing a kiss on the top of your head. He hates to do it, but he wants so desperately to get you into bed so he can take a shower and finally relieve himself. “And I know that episode was rough on you.” 
You turn to face Steve on the couch, bringing your knees up under you. “Why not, Stevie baby?” You grin at Steve and if he wasn’t already achingly hard those words would have sent blood straight to his dick.
“Honey, I’ve got to-”
“Is it because you’re hard?” You hand comes to rest on his thigh. Steve had taken to wearing loose sweatpants and covering himself with blankets as you two watched the show in an attempt to hide his hard-on.
He had assumed, or hoped, that it had worked and you never noticed. “W-what are you talking about?” He stutters out as your hand moves further and further up his leg. 
“I’m talking about hard you get when we watch the show, baby.” You explain, slipping your hand into his pants. Steve lets out a moan as your hand wraps around his cock. “At first I thought it was because of the sex scenes, then I realized it really only happened during the gory ones.” 
You smirk. “I was a little worried, baby, I’m not gonna lie.” You’re moving at an agonizingly slow pace as you speak. Steve’s hips buck up involuntarily as you pull your hand away. “Then I caught you staring. I realized it was me. What does it for you? The tears?” 
“Honey, please.” Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion. “Please. Please.” He’s learned he’s not above begging, not when it comes to you. He’s so far past being guilty for what your tears do to him and all he wants is you. 
You smile cockily down at him before spitting into the palm of your hand. “I know.” When your hand wraps around him again, Steve lets out a relieved moan. “What is it? Want you to tell me.” 
You move slowly again. Steve looks at you pleadingly, but you still hold the same cocky smile. “Tell me, baby. I promise I’ll go faster. Get you closer.” 
“It’s all of it.” Steve admits. Your hand moves just a little faster and the words come tumbling out of his mouth. “The way your eyes look, all glassy and wet. Fuck-” he inhales sharply, “-how hot your cheeks get, I love how they feel against my fingers. Please, honey.” He reaches his hand out towards you, wanting to feel you. 
You let out a soft moan. “That’s... fuck.” You crawl towards him, your hand still pumping him, and his own hands land on your hips. “You like it when I cry? You think I look pretty, Steve?” You bring your non-dominant hand up to lift his chin so he’s looking at your face.
There are still signs of tears there. Dried tears and eyes still a little glassy. It almost sends Steve into orbit, you kneeling over him, tear stained cheeks and commanding tone of voice. “So pretty.” He whispers as his eyes trail over your face. 
You move quickly, your hands moving to pull his sweatpants off. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You lean back to pull off your own shirt, leaving you in nothing but a bra and underwear. 
Steve’s fingers trail up your stomach towards your breasts and leave goosebumps in their wake. “Didn’t want you to think I was weird.” He admits quietly as one finger trails over the curve of your breast. 
Your mouth opens in a soft breath as Steve leans towards you. His mouth follows the same path his fingers did and your hand tangles in his hair. 
It’s grown out since his retirement, long enough for you to yank on and pull him back to look up at you. “You could’ve told me.” You smile down at him sweetly. “You should’ve. I hate when you keep things from me.”  
“I’m sorry.” Steve says immediately. You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks turn red in embarrassment. “Won’t happen again, baby.” 
“Good.” You move to straddle his hips. Both of you moan at the newfound friction you can feel as you covered pussy rubs against his cock. “Keep being good for me and I might let you cum inside me, baby.” 
Steve’s head falls so his forehead rests against your shoulder as a groan escapes him. “Please. Oh my god, please.” He pleads into your skin. You move to pull his boxers down until his dick is on display for you. 
“You want me to ride you, honey?” You ask softly as you continue to rub over his hard length. Steve’s hips buck up in desperation as you grind against him. 
“Yes.” He moans loudly as you press your hips down against him harder. “Want to feel you. Want to be inside you, please baby.” He bucks his hips up again. 
You smirk down at him. “Since you asked so nicely. Need your help though.” Steve watches as you push your panties aside and his hand wraps around the base of his cock. 
He watches in awe as you push yourself down on his cock. The both of you moan out in relief as Steve pushes his hips up until he’s all the way inside of you. “You feel so good inside me, honey.” Your hands land on his shoulders and you use them as stability to push yourself up and down on him. 
“Fuck.” Steve can barely contain himself as his arms wrap around your waist. Your wet heat wraps around him so perfectly that it’s hard for him to hold himself back, especially after being so hard for hours. “You feel so good, fuck. Please.” He begs. 
Steve doesn’t know where to focus as you ride him. His eyes move over your face twisted up in pleasure as you moan, your breasts moving as your body does and where your cunt meets his pelvis bone every time you slide down. It’s all too much and you seem to know it as you pull his hair so he’s looking into your eyes. 
“You can’t cum. Not yet, honey.” Steve whimpers as you finish your sentence. You smile at him. “I know, I’ve got to cum first though. You want me to feel good too, don’t you?” 
Steve nods quickly before moving his hand so it’s between your bodies. “Want to make you cum.” His body meets yours in messy thrusts as he focuses on rubbing your clit. 
“So good for me.” You murmur breathily as you slow your own movements, letting Steve do more of the work. “You always make me feel so good.” You moan again. 
Steve can feel you tighten around him and lets his head fall back against the couch as he moans loudly, “oh, fuck. Fuck. Please I’m-″ His hand falls away from your clit and moves to grip your hip as he bucks up harder. 
“-I know.” You cut him off with a moan. “I can you feel you.” He can’t see you, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, but he knows there’s a smirk on your face from the cocky tone of voice. 
It turns him on even more, how well you know each other’s bodies. “You can come, Stevie baby. I want you to, please.” You lean towards him in a whisper. “Want you to look at me though.” Steve’s eyes open slowly as you grind down against him. “Come for me.” You order gently. 
You kiss him, your lips pressing against his harshly as Steve’s hips stutter into his orgasm. He moans into your mouth when he feels you orgasm around him, your own hips faltering. 
The two of you stay connected as you both heave out heavy breaths. “You really don’t think it’s weird?” Steve asks after a moment of silence. 
You lean back to look at him with a reassuring smile. “Not at all. I just wish you had told me instead of making me watch this godforsaken show.” You tease before moving to lift yourself off of him. 
Steve lets out an embarrassed laugh and his cheeks turn a light shade of red as he pulls his underwear back up. “We don’t have to watch it anymore if you don’t want to.” He says quietly. 
“I want to.” You press a kiss to his shoulder.  “I’ve got to finish it now. You’re with me for at least five more seasons, baby.” 
Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I guess you’re lucky I love you then.” He murmurs as you move around to press play on the television again. The instrumental blares through the television speakers again as you curl into Steve’s side and his arm wraps around you.
It’s like there’s a weight lifted from his shoulders as the episode begins to play. He knows this one, it’s a bad one and you’ll definitely get upset again, but now he knows his reaction isn’t something to be ashamed of. 
Not with you. 
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notes -> hey! i know it’s taking a little longer to get pieces out, august is pretty busy with me doing most of my pre-school errands and appointments before classes start again at the end of the month. 
i hope you enjoyed this pieced though! definitely something new for me, but i’m pretty proud of it?? as far as how my nsfw writing is coming along
if you did enjoy, reblogs/replies are so greatly appreciated. 
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