#crytal ball

[theallseer97]

[justanothergeneralkrow]

Finished watching all the UK seasons and I have thoughts UK 1 probably had the best season long arc with the rivalry between The Vivienne and Divina De Campo and the development of Baga Chipz. Great challenges and some really great runways courtesy of Crytal, Divina, Viv and Blu. Almost definitely the best Snatch Game of the series. UK 2 great storylines for Bimini and A'Whora. Amazing lip syncs week after week thanks to Tayce and Tia. Runway was also really fucking good again with a majority of the queens always showing up and showing out. Judging was a bit miffed for Ellie and Lawrence but the riggory did produce a better season in the end. Iconic snatch game and girl group. Best season of the UK undoubtedly. UK 3, riggory and for what. Hard to watch the mistreatment of queens like Choriza, River and spescially Charity. Krystal is a great queen and it's unfortunate they pushed her so hard which made it hard t enjoy her throughout the season. Ella flubbing the finale so hard made her lose all momentum and it was unfortunate to see. Kitty was a highlight of the season, so bright and full of personality. Challenges felt mostly downgraded and generally worse with an exception of the ball which was done very well. UK 4 might be my least favorite season. It's not bad but after the first few episodes it just becomes kind of a slog to get through with Cheddar and Danny just passing wins. Dakota Schiffer getting consistently overlooked and her elimination being one of the most rigged was so frustrating to see. The 6 maxi challenge girl group win was actually fucking insane. Le Fil was really great this season and it's unfortunate that he too was largely ignored. This season just felt like it kept ticking the boxes of what happened in the previous seasons and it didn't feel new or fresh.

UK 5 extraordinar that they were able to edit out an entire queen and make it feel seemless. This season was really good and a major improvement after the past two UK seasons. I love how the season broke convention and really played with the storylines. My favorite queens to come out of this season are definitely Kate and Cara. This top 3 might be the strongest we've seen in the UK. If I were to rank them it'd be: UK2, UK5, UK1, UK3, UK4

[irvinenewshq]

Prime Sends Our Hero to One other Dimension

Picture: Netflix Following the primary, mysterious teaser for the brand new Netflix-produced new Sonic present, the streaming service has lastly launched a second trailer, and this one does a significantly better job at letting us know what precisely is in retailer for our fleet-footed hedgehog pal—the multiverse. Sonic Prime – Teaser Trailer #2 As Dr. Eggman shatters the Prime Crytal, he sends Sonic—and all his associates—into totally different components of the multiverse. It’s not clear if Sonic lands in an apocalyptic, ultra-urbanized future that’s led by the evil Eggman or if he finds himself in one other world completely, however it’s clear that no matter is going on right here is Not Nice, really. Sonic should navigate the Shatterverse as he makes an attempt to search out his associates, defeat the badnik robots, and enlist a brand new group of allies with a purpose to save the world from the machinations of Eggman. The 24-episode sequence will star Deven Christian Mack as Sonic, Ashleigh Ball as Tails, Brian Drummond as Dr. Eggman, and Adam Nurada as Knuckles the Echidna. Sonic: Prime will likely be accessible to stream December 15 on Netflix. Need extra io9 information? Try when to anticipate the most recent Marvel and Star Wars releases, what’s subsequent for the DC Universe on movie and TV, and all the pieces you’ll want to find out about Home of the Dragon and Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Energy. Originally published at Irvine News HQ

[psychic-truth]

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[morbidbabii]

traplacid☁️

[scrawnytreedemon]

Can’t sleep, mind going precisely 56 miles an hour, so I think I’ll finally get around to writing this.

Couples days back, I went ahead and finally psyched myself up to do the Zant bossfight.

Because I’d picked up where I’d left off yesterday, which was just before the boss room, obviously I was taken back to the beginning of the area. This gave the whole ordeal a trek, if a short one, what with the Palace of Twilight’s laughable length, and me more time to think.

I didn’t want to do this.

It sounds stupid, but I really didn’t want to do this. I’d cried the day before trying to psych myself up and failing, and I’d cried then, before the boss door, stalling by sweeping away the crystal-fog as best I could-- A meagre attempt at housekeeping, and a futile one. Of course I couldn’t. This isn’t that sort of game. This isn’t a game for failed attempts at kindness, at least trying to clean this awful, awful place for an awful, awful man going through awful, awful things. I was supposed to be a hero.

Heroes don’t make beds.

They don’t wash dishes, or hang laundry, or hold a rival’s hand,

They kill.

The trek didn’t stop past the door, either.

We still had to walk up the stairs. To the throne.

To him.

And I was there, laugh-crying, wishing I didn’t have to. That I could skip this pathetic ordeal.

I tried to turn around and leave.

Despite it only looking like a larger one of the many, many doors we’ve passed through this awful, nonsensical, poorly-designed excuse for a palace that no one could ever live in, it didn’t budge. There wasn’t any turning back. I had to go forward, because this is an action game, and violence is key.

The game takes the reigns. Link walks up to the throne, sword drawn, despite my deliberate decision to sheathe it. The narrative begins again. Midna sneers, and throws a taunt at him.

Zant sits, and smiles. Smiles like he thinks he still has some form of control, or knows full well he’s lost it.

You know, when I was working through the Palace of Twilight, I’d come to the realisation that... Zant locked himself in the throneroom. From the outside. Logistically, despite the good laugh I had over this guy locking himself in from the fucking outside, where his opponents can grab the key, he could get out easily-- teleportation and all. But even that aside, it still spoke to a level of hasty panic, that he would even keep the key outside, behind a waterfall of yet more shitty fog-crytals in the hopes that would deter them. Deter us.

How long had the guy been here, alone in that room?

We all know what happens next. Despite this being my first playthrough, I’ve probably seen this cutscene a dozen times. Zant has what amounts to an overly-dramatised autistic meltdown expositing himself and his motivations. That he was upset and felt like everything he’d worked for had been taken away from him. That he was angry, angry and fed up of being relegated to a half-existence. Midna retorts, Zant wails some more.

What gets me is that, when Ganondorf visits him, engulfs him in this flaming ball of fucked-magical-fuckery, he just. Stares. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything. Ganondorf speaks as though he’s already decided that, yes, you will do, we will make a pact and rule Everything together; I will live on through you.

Did Zant even agree to this?

I think, subconsciously or not, he accepted it, but it begs the question of whether or not Zant was capable enough to partake in it.

Whatever the answer, he’s clearly not capable enough to partake in this. This fight.

It’s laughable, that I’m expected to find victory in this.

The fight was a fucking slog, 90% of the time. Some of these boss-battles I hadn’t played in nearly two years thanks to the impromptu hiatuses I’m so fond of taking, so I didn’t know what the fuck I was meant to be doing half the time-- And when I did, it lagged to shit everytime this poor bastard fired projectiles, because I was playing on the gamepad, because why on earth would I play this on the goddamn TV? It was a sad, pitiful encounter that I had to laugh my way through and also mumble “what the fuck“ on several occasions because I guess somebody at Nintendo ate cheese before bed and the dev team were so desperate to patch something together for this guy’s sudden crisis that they threw it in-- I’m obviously having a good laugh, but What The Fuck.

I knock the guy down in the last phase of the battle, the only one where he isn’t mimicking something else and dizzies himself spinning like a hyperactive child, and the game takes the reigns again. Midna prepares her hair. I look away-- I’ve seen it before, many times before, and it’s cartoonishly grotesque for a game that relies heavily on somber semi-realism. Midna has her own crisis-- And yeah, yeah bossbabe, I feel it.

It cuts back, and there’s a Heart Container on the guy’s throne.

I.

I killed a guy, and now I’m collecting his lifeforce. I stormed into the bunged-up attempt of a fortress conjured up as a last defense by a man who’s fallen head-first into insanity, tore through any meagre security measure like butter, murder the guy when he’s having an episode, he dies a fucked up death, and then I collect his lifeforce.

Is that fucked up or what?

For all of Zelda’s endless violence, rarely do you actually kill “people.“ It’s the kind of stuff reserved for the end, for Ganondorf, or some other corrupted nigh-demigod on the brink of losing their humanity, or never having possessed it.

We kill Zant.

Zant barely puts up a fight, and we kill him. Zant gets summoned from the netherworld by Ganondorf in Hyrule Warriors; we put him there in the first place.

If we were to view this from a literal, like this shit actually happened and these characters are to be held accountable standpoint, then what we did was justified-- If not wholly, then mostly. Zant got power-hungry, committed what amounts to a bio-terroristic coup on the government, disfigured his rival, a woman notorious for her beauty, then proceeded to attempt the same thing with Hyrule, leading to the indirect death of at least the people who got transfigured into Shadow-Beasts in Kakariko, and attacks you first, then yeah, no biggie?

But I’ll be fucking real with you chief, I don’t find it... I don’t know, persuasive? Effective? Compelling, would be the best word, to think of it that way?

What Zant is, is a narrative tool. One that was set up to be this big, bad interloper who you need to Take Down and Save Everything, as per usual Zelda format. The justification for why we should hate him, if I’m going to be honest, feels contrived, most of the time. He does some bad thing off-screen, Midna gets pissed, Midna and everyone within a 12-mile radius explains why we should be pissed in a way that often feels borderline developer-hand-y-- And that’s. Well that’s how Zelda usually is.

It’s justification to commit violence.

--To be clear, I don’t say this in a political sense. I mean it in the very literal “hit/kill a guy“ sense. And in all honesty, that’s kinda inherent to the ethos of action games. We enjoy catharsis-- We enjoy taking down big things, it’s satisfying! I’ve played a little Hyrule Warriors-- Loved the feel of it. Violence is inherent to even the most benign of action games, and it is what it is.

Where it falls short for me, is that with Zant, I don’t feel like I’m taking down some great foe that I should justifiably hate.

I feel like I’m a clearly more equipped person breaking into a room, and bludgeoning a mentally ill person.

I’m autistic. I may slot in easier to NT society than most, but I am autistic, and it makes me deeply uncomfortable to see something I’ve fucking gone through be used carelessly as flavour for a prelude to violence. I have meltdowns. They’re relatively rare, and mostly in my room, alone, but I’ve also experienced one out in public. It was only sobbing, but there’s a special kind of horror, of humilation in knowing other people, strangers, family, what have you, are seeing it, and all you can think is how much you failed.

I can’t fully articulate why I cried so much during this, quite frankly, menial ordeal. I’m half-embarrassed to even talk about it-- Because then that means caring too much, and I can’t care too much over a poorly-justified character that wasn’t even intended to be sympathised with and that most of the fandom laughs at. And I can’t say I blame them.

I guess at the end of the day it comes down to the ever-present pity; some strange, childish commiseration I’d indulged in ever since I was six and cooing over Bowser and how awful everything was for him, that despite my continuous efforts, I can’t ever seem to explain.

I didn’t like the Zant fight. It felt empty,

And all did was sweep cobwebs and try to turn back.

[cosmicbash]

this is hella specific but my personal sadistic liking i guess, but imagine kells and em were rough fucking and em goes too far and kells actually starts to cry in pain and takes a few seconds for em to notice but when he does, his whole personality does a 180° and he becomes the sweetest motherfucking thing

im not sure if u saw my post where i said i like crying kells/ soft em combo

When they first started fucking it was always rough. There was teeth, nails, blood, like the two of them were trying to tear the other to pieces just as badly as they were trying to meld their bodies together.

Eventually things started to even out, their fucking softened the same way their voices and touches did.

Actual feelings blossoming and a relationship rising from the scorched earth they liked to think their original beef had caused.

They couldn't call it hatefucking anymore, not when the hate was gone and something warm and scarily close to love had slithered in its place.

So now their sex was mostly normal, tinted with moments of softness or the rushed clumsiness of some spontaneous hookup. But, that didn't mean the roughness was completely gone.

They'd fucked that way in the beginning for a reason. It was good. Colson's nails cutting into his back or along his scalp to try and futilely pull on his short hair just felt invigorating. Like it lit a fire deep in Marshall's stomach that he'd long thought smothered.

They still fucked hard, and fast, just not as often. Sometimes after a nasty argument to get out the anger, other times just because the blonde came to him with that challenging glint in his eyes begging for a punishment.

Tonight was the latter.

Overall it had seemed like a perfect day, their voices soft and smiles softer over the course of a rare breakfast together and an even rarer lunch. The usually annoying call of a 'required' industry party appearance actually pleasing Marshall for once just because it meant he had an excuse to linger in LA, to publicly visit the same event as his boyfriend with little suspicion. Colson had stayed overnight to steal the whole day together in preparation. It was perfect.

So of course Marshall should have seen the devious little plan of his boyfriends coming. Colson always buttered him up before he got bratty.

It started with batted eyelashes and flirty licks of icing off some silly cupcakes, and ended with some other douchebag snaking his slimy presence into Colson's bubble. Stealing away attention that wasn't meant for anyone but Marshall.

The sparkle in Colson's last glance his way had announced the request for tonight's sex better than any words the blonde could have simply used instead.

So that's what Marshall gave him when they got back to the hotel room, a firm fist in the back of blonde locks. Colson's arrival an infuriating 20 minutes later than his own.

Per usual the younger rapper barely struggled, the glee on his face at Marshall's jealousy so much stronger than any desire he may have had to play along with a few feigned huffs.

It was hot, seeing Colson smile so catlike up at him with every rip of expensive cotton and snapped threads through Marshall's trembling fingers. He honestly didn't know if he wanted to strangle the brat or grab him like something precious. Colson just knew every button to press to get him riled up and angry. Teetering on the edge of real rage and violent jealousy that might have fucked up his marriage but somehow never truly settled here between them. Because looking into those sparkling mischevious eyes Marshall somehow always knew it was fake, that no matter how many times Colson and he played this game the blonde would never actually cross the line and cheat or hurt him.

The fire in his stomach burned white hot on nights like this. Where his hands could curl tight around Colson's wrists and risk leaving bruises both along them and the small of the boy's back where they sat pinned. Marshall's other hand roughly stretching open a hole he can tell has been fingered already in the car or maybe even at the party itself in hopes he would just bend it's owner over and force his way inside the moment they met back up. But that was a risk Marshall wouldn't take, not one where his assumption could seriously hurt Colson, no matter how many times he found the blonde already slick and ready. Because yes it was rough, and they still clawed at one another and bit mutual bruises along pale skin but it was also still more like making love than the angry hate fucking they'd had in the beginning.

Which is why as his hips snap in their rapid pace and his fingers cut into Colson's skin Marshall faintly notes the shift in his boyfriend's spine. Colson's still moaning, still rocking back to meet his harsh thrusts but theirs a silent thought nagging at the back of the older rapper's brain about it. Like there's something right in front of him that he just can't decypher yet.

The sex swamped part of his mind only urges him to go harder, reminds him of how his boyfriend has only come once so far and how utterly beautiful he looks overstimulated and trembling from a second uninterrupted orgasm. Brushing the blip of concern off as a moment of overthinking while he chases down his own release.

Marshall's eyes have slipped closed and his fingers tightened to that nail cutting grip when he hears it. The slight change in pitch to Colson's cries, not enough of a warning for his own hips to slow down. Not with how tight his stomach is getting and ready to burst his balls feel while he somehow finds the ability to speed up his fucking. Thighs clapping loud and fast against Colson's like he's going to fuck his way right through the other man. Increase his tempo until the seperate beats turn into one long ring.

Colson jerks beneath him then, not in his own release but away from his grip like the fire in Marshall's stomach has finally leeched its way outside to burn him. The usual chorus of "ah, ah, ah-" replaced by a wet sounding and higher pitched copy. Less pleause and more pain. Cutting through the older rapper's own roaring pleasure like a hot knife.

He's seconds away from coming. Just a handful more of thrusts and he could be pumping the tight hole clenching double time down on his cock full, but Marshall's heart has already dropped.

He's out of Colson in an instant, not caring how dizzy his own movements make him or how his cock throbs agonizingly for release. The fear bubbling up is too strong for him to care. "S-shit, Col, baby, I-I'm sorry-"

He's on his side, rough fingers now jarringly delicate as he curls around the blonde to pepper a dozen apologetic kisses along his shoulders. Careful as he turns Colson's flushed face to see the genuine tear tracks that have wettened perfect cheeks. A complete contrast to the harsh grab and jut of thumb into jaw hinge he'd done only an hour earlier on in the night.

"Shh, baby, I'm sorry, shh, where does it hurt?" There's a hundred different things rushing through Marshall's mind. Second guesses on how prepped Colson had been, how harsh his last bite was, on the belittling terms his dirty talk had included. What he could possibly do to fix the tear stained mess he's creates on his boyfriend's beautiful face.

"No-" Colson's voice is still tight, his eyebrows scrunched. "Don't-" a hiss and Marshall's stomach can't drop any deeper. But then crytal blue eyes are opening to meet his and the unmistakable sound of a bitter laugh is tumbling past Colson's lips.

The look shot is way sparkling with the request of forgiveness. "Just my hip-" And Colson's smiling at him, weak and sheepish like knows a reprimand is coming his way. The heavy wet weight of tears hanging on his lashes softening his eyes to emphasize that boyish charm the older rapper was smitten by.

His hip. The one he'd injured last week falling off stage and swore up and down to Marshall was fine all week. The brunette wants to collapse back onto the bed in relief and also smack his idiot of a boyfriend aside his head for terrifying him like that.

He settles in the middle with a sigh and soft bump of their foreheads together. Palm cupping Colson's wet cheek and eyes closing to thank whatever deity above exists that he didn't actually cross that invisible line inside himself and directly hurt Colson on his own.

"I love you." Colson's voice is still a little rough, still silently asking for forgiveness, and Marshall can't help but sigh again and try to smother that insecurity with slow kiss. Fingers softly skating through bleached hair and body rolling cautiously close to connect their skin.

"I love you too-" he sweeps away the salty tears with some scattered kisses. Fingers leaving his boyfriends hair to stroke down over the hot jut of unknowingly tender skin he'd been further injuring. "You idiot." The insult could be directed at either of them. Colson for lieing and himself for forgetting how dismissive his boyfriend could be of his own health.

"It- it wasn't that bad-" Marshall finds his mouth smothering an argument. Not interested in hearing the same childish defense from his boyfriend. Mentally he's already searching for the contact of his wonderful chiropractor to schedule Colson an emergency appointment and just how quickly he can get the precious man into a warm bath to soothe the ache.

[neoneversleeps]

dumbass | l.dh

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

description:

Donghyuck doesn’t always make the best decisions when it comes to spending money. In other words: Donghyuck buys an overpriced crytall ball to try and communicate with spirits.

prompt used: "Oh My God, I think the crystal is working. The spirits are telling me you're a dumbass." 

notes: this is the final drabble of my halloween special. i was hopng to get it posted yesterday, but alas, life got in the way. anyway, i may not have achieved everthing I set out to do for this special event, but i’m proud of what I did accomplish. I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading! <3

You ran your hand over the dusty miniature statues on the shelf, eyes wandering over the carvings on the stone in mild curiosity. You could hear your boyfriend's voice off to the side, conversing with the middle aged woman who ran the place. 

You don't know how you had let Donghyuck drag you to the old antique shop in the first place.

"Where are we going, Hyuck?"

"Somewhere fun! You'll see."

You failed to see the excitement in looking at what was probably dead people's old belongings in the little store that looked more like a witch's lair than anything else.Absentmindedly, you pick up one of the dusty od statues. Sketched into the stone is what you assume to be some kind of an animal. A bear maybe, you can’t quite place it. It’s eyes are two small rubies that seem to stare at you just as you are staring at it. 

“Y/n!” You get snapped out of your little staring contest and direct your attention to the boy who is suddenly standing beside you, a large brown paper bag with something inside cradled in his arms. 

“What is that?” You gesture at the object in Donghyuck arms as you place the small statue back on its shelf. 

“You’ll see once we’re back at home.Come on!” Donghyuck doesn’t leave much room for you to speak as he grabs your hand and pulls you along, out of the small shop. 

The sun has set by the time you come home, and you can start to see the trick or treaters slowly trickle out of their houses. Donghyuck pulls you inside and starte flitting around the place, shutting the blinds. You stand there, dumbfounded as to what the hell your boyfriend was doing. He places his purchase down on the couch and turns to you. “Can you help me light some candles?” 

You sigh and cross your arms, but still comply to his request. You know there is no way Donghyuck would tell you what he was doing if you didn’t play along. Grabbin some candes from the kitchen’s drawers, you walk back into the living room, where your boyfriend has already lit various candles and placed them on the small coffee table. You join him, placing the rest of your candles down and watch as he starts to light them. 

“Ok.” Donghyuck grabs the wrapped up object and sits down on the floor next to the table full of candles. He gestures to the space in front of him. “Sit down.”

You do, crossing your legs as you try to get somewhat comfortable on the floor. Donghyuck’s smile is filled to the brim with excitement as he starts to unravel the package. “You ready?” 

You breathe out a small chuckle at the smile on your boyfriends face and nod. Finally, Donghyuck fully removed the brown paper from the object, revealing… 

...a crystal ball? 

Somehow out of all the things you were expecting, this was not one of them. It shouldn’t actually surprise you much though, knowing of Donghyuck’s obsession with tarot cards. You thought they were pretty and looked cool, but you didn't know if you believed in their supposed future telling power. 

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your throat. “What did you buy this for?” Donghyuck places the seemingly carefully crafted crystal ball in between you two. 

“So we could communicate with the spirits, duh.” Donghyuck says as he lighty pokes your forehead. You narrow your eyes at him. “And what better time to do it than on halloween night?” 

“Uh huh…” 

You inspect the crystal ball a little more up close. Well, for what it’s worth, the design was very beautiful, small images of symbols etched into the bronze colored base and the actual crystal had a nice purple-ish shimmer to it. You pause in your inspection. 

“How much did you pay for this?” 

Donghyuck clears his throat at your question, lightly scratching at his neck as he avoids your eyes. He mutters something that sounds distinctly like eighty bucks under his breath. Your mouth falls open as you stare at him, not sure if you could believe your ears. “What?!” 

Donghyuck sighs loudly. “I paid eighty bucks for it!” 

You shake your head as you stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. He looks at you sheepishly, a tiny bit of colour tinting the apples of his cheeks. “Anyways, let’s just start, okay? Close your eyes.” 

Shaking your head once again, you close your eyes like your boyfriend asks you to. Donghyuck starts speaking, trying to coax the spirits to come out and talk. You try to focus your energy on the ball with your eyes closed. Perhaps a teeny tiny part of you hopes the ridiculous thing actually works, for Donghyuck’s sake of course. 

Half an hour passes and nothing happens. “Y/n.” You open your eyes to look at your boyfriend. “Maybe they just don’t want to talk to me. Can you try?” You want to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation, but you bite your tongue at the pout on Donghyuck’s lips as he speaks. Nodding in confirmation, you wait for him to close his eyes. You stare at the sphere that sits before you. 

“Spirits, I call upon you.” 

You stifle a giggle at the crease between Donghyuck’s brows as he concentrates. Minutes pass by and once again nothing happens. You get an idea then. You let a gasp fall from your lips as you lean forward and peer into the crystal. 

“Oh my God, I think the crystal is working.” Donghyuck’s eyes shoot open, gaze flicking between you and the crystal ball beneath you. You pull your head up to face him. “The spirits are telling me you're a dumbass." You deadpan before bursting into laughter at the way your boyfriend rolls his eyes.  

Donghyuck crosses his arms. “You’re stupid.” 

“Oh, come on. You have to admit that was funny.” You move the crystal out of the way to crawl over to your boyfriend. You almost expect him to push you as you sit yourself down on his lap, but all he does is huff in annoyance. “Besides, I wasn’t the one that bought a crystal ball for eighty dollars.” Donghyuck grumbles something along the lines of “fuck you” as he looks away. 

Giggling, you take your boyfriend’s face into your hands and turn his head to look at you. “Come on. Don’t be mad, Hyuckie.” Donghyuck’s arms stay crossed as you place a peck on his lips. You lean down again, leaving a longer kiss on your boyfriends lips this time. He sighs in defeat, warm air blowing into your face before his head falls to rest against your chest. “I really am a dumbass, aren’t I?” His voice is muffled against the fabric of your hoodie ad you hands come up to run through his hair as his arms snake around your waist. 

You chuckle and place a small kiss to the crown of his head before you lean back to look at him. “Maybe a little. Doesn’t change the fact that I love you, though.” Donghyuck can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle himself. 

“Thank God for that.” He leans up to capture your lips with his and you can’t stop yourself from smiling into the iss like a lovestruck idiot. 

Your boyfriend might be a little bit of a dumbass, but a very sweet one at that.

this drabble is part of Lilac’s Halloween Spooky Special ♡

[poemsforthetmarchives]

‘Tea In A Space-Ship’, by James Kirkup

In this world a tablecloth need not be laid On any table, but is spread out anywhere Upon the always equidistant and Invisible legs of gravity's wild air

The tea, which never would grow cold, Gathers itself into a wet and steaming ball, And hurls its liquid molecules at anybody's head, Or dances, eternal bilboquet, In annd out of the suspended cups up- Ended in the weightless hands Of chronically nervous jerks Who yet would never spill a drop, Their mouths agape for passing cakes.

Lumps of sparking sugar Sling themselves out of their crytal bowl With a disordered fountain's Ornamental stops and starts. The milk describes a permanent parabola Girdled with satellites of spinning tarts.

The future lives with graciousness. The hostess finds her problems eased, For thereis honey still for tea And butter keps the ceiling greased.

She will provide, of course, No cake-forks, spoons or knives. They are so sharp, so dangerously gadabout, It is regarded as a social misdemeanor To put them out.

-

Editor’s note: This is for Manuela aboard the Daedalus, loosely speaking. It’s admittedly a bit of a “haha, it’s British” joke; I laughed at the idea of her up in space with these two poor men who are being fed directly to the eldritch horrors that be, taking a break from her horrible darkness research intended to doom the entire world into suffering, and floating somewhere having tea and mini cakes.

[rohanisnothere]

BB,interfering with chaldea’s comms and using all the monitors:

“I’ve come to make an announcement: Kiara Sessyoinn’s a bitch ass mother fucker. She pissed on my fucking wife. That’s right, She took her demon god fuckin' tentacle dick out and she pissed on my fucking wife, and she said her dick was THIS BIG. And I said “that’s disgusting!” So I’m making a callout post on my twitter dot com: "Kiara Sessyoinn, you got a small dick, it’s the size of this crytalized lore except WAY smaller." And guess what, here’s what my dong looks like: PFFFFFFFFGJT. That’s right baby. All matrix, no tentacles, no demon eyes, look at that it looks like two balls and excalibur. She fucked my wife so guess what, I’m gonna FUCK THE ENTIRE DATABASE OF SERAPH. THATS RIGHT THIS IS WHAT YOU GET, MY SUPER AI PISS. Except I’m not gonna piss on SERAPH, I’m gonna go higher. I’m pissing on the far side of the MOOOOOON! How do you like that,ALAYA ? I PISSED ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOT! You have twenty-three hours before the piss d r o p l e t s hit the fucking Sea of imaginary numbers, now get out of my fucking sight before I piss on you too!

[mermaidcheuart]

Day 3- Crystal ball🔮 She lost her vision, she can only trust her crytal ball to see for her🔮⏭swipe for a close up • • • #witchtober2020 #crystalball #inktober2020 #inktoberday3 #witch #illustration #art #digitalart #artsgram #oc #design #characterdesign #conceptart #artwork #artistsoninstagram  #lineart #artoftheday  #procreatedrawing #magic #eye #fold #vision https://www.instagram.com/p/CF455cTDkIS/?igshid=1trmxjt8d6i15

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: The Wicked Witch of the West

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

In cinema, there are few villains who can ever boast to be even a fraction as influential as the Wicked Witch of the West. Everything about her – her skin color, her cackle, her voice, her large nose, her outfit, her personality, and her infamous weakness – have all become so ingrained in popular culture due to the enduring legacy of The Wizard of Oz that much of those traits are just now accepted as general “evil witch” traits in films and cartoons.

And all this coming from a character who was in but a single chapter in the first Oz book. Just what is it about this evil hag that makes her stand out to the point that she has been referenced and reimagined more times than you can shake a broomstick at?

Actor: Margaret Hamilton is the woman responsible for the nightmares suffered by millions of children in the many decades since this film came out. She is, in a word, perfect. Her evil cackle, her mannerisms, her voice, she does nothing but command the screen with her presence, and then you have to give props to the fact that Hamilton suffered through some serious hazards while filming, such as being unable to eat due to her copper makeup as well as at one point being burned severely during her pyrotechnic exit from Munchkinland. What a trooper she was for sticking through and seeing the film to the end despite all this; the world is so much more interesting for her sticking around, that’s for sure.

Motivation/Goals: The Wicked Witch is immensely simple in terms of motivation and goal: she wants the slippers Dorothy stole off of the corpse of the Witch’s flattened sister, the Wicked Witch of the East. To this end, she basically goes out of her way to hinder Dorothy’s journey to the Emerald City, though she is very ineffective in this despite her clear talent in magic. I think keeping her goal rather simple was a good thing, and even if they don’t really explain what she’d do with the ruby slippers if she ever got her hands on them, considering how she acts it would almost certainly not be pleasant for the residents of Oz.

Personality: The Wicked Witch’s personality is easily her biggest selling point. She’s just a mean, bitter hag, but in a fun way. She’s just so unbelievably cruel and petty but the fact that she feels the need to joke around a bit and cackle at just about everything she does makes her an absolute blast to watch. I guess the dark side really is more fun.

Final Fate: The Witch’s demise is arguably one of the most famous aspects of her, infamously so, even. The Witch is killed when Dorothy douses her in a bucket of water, which frankly comes out of nowhere and does nothing but raise questions, with the most important one being: Why does she allow what is effectively liquid insta-death to be kept in open containers lying around her castle? Like I get it needs to be cleaned and all but this just seems like an absurdly lethal workplace hazard. And does this mean the Witch herself never bathes? How does she clean herself? Obviously those last couple at least are more joking ones that are funny to think about and not serious ones because, come on, it’s a silly fantasy film, who besides Neil DeGrasse Tyson feels the need to apply real world logic and sense to everything except as fun exercises in thought?

Her melting away, her death cries, and just the sheer out-of-nowhere nature of the weakness has been parodied so many times across pop culture that these days water being a weakness for witches is pretty common, though it’s not considered the definitive weakness in the vein of sunlight for vampires is due to Count Orlock. I think part of it might be because how just completely out of nowhere this comes, to the point where the Witch dying is a total accident; she gets splashed when Dorothy is putting out a flame on Scarecrow’s arm. That’s right, the villain’s death is a complete and total accident, to the point where Dorothy apologizes for killing her afterwards. There’s something so absolutely delightfully hokey about this that, while it is certainly a bit anticlimactic, it is definitely charming and hard to hate. What a world! What a world!

Best Scene: It’s really hard to narrow it down, but two really stand out: the scene where she takes flight from her castle to harass the Emerald City is pretty cool, and the effect still looks pretty decent even today, and the scene where she taunts Dorothy through the crytal ball after showing her Aunty Em, and then proceeds to laugh at Dorothy’s misery. Those scenes show her at her coolest and pettiest, which absolutely sum her up in a big way.

Best Quote: It can only be one line, the line that launched  million imitators and named an entire trope: “I'll get you, my pretty — and your little dog too!"

Final Thoughts & Score: The Wicked Witch of the West is nothing short of an icon. She’s everything an evil witch needs to be: she’s hammy, she cackles a lot, she has an awesome evil lair, she flies a broomstick, she’s ridiculously petty, she is dangerous, threatening, and terrifying, and she is an absolute blast to watch. Throw in the fact that she has an entire army of winged monkeys at her beck and call, and what’s not to love?

I think the best aspect of her is how she contrasts to the rest of the world of Oz. Here we have this beautiful, colorful fantasy world that is “over the rainbow” as it were, and then here comes this black-clad witch figure who is as dark and dismal as anything in the real world Dorothy was living in. Her minions, her fortress, her attire – it all stands into stark contrast to the bright cheeriness of everything else. Even the grumpy trees are at least still a bit colorful and charming in their own way, but the Witch is just so dark and sinister. There’s a good reason why she’s frequently cited as one of the most terrifying antagonists in cinematic history – when juxtaposed to the sort of world she inhabits, she really does stand out as notably monstrous.

Just about every aspect of her has been aped in pop culture for decades. The shrill voice, the appearance, the green coloration… there are a lot of pop culture witches that should be paying royalties to the original Wicked Witch. Of course, let’s not pretend that the Wicked Witch totally invented everything wholesale. She is clearly drawing inspiration from folkloric ideas of witches, though obviously magnified through the fantasy lens of Oz (pretty sure folklore says nothing about witches being green), so at least in some respects she’s a bit less of a game changer than, say, Orlock or Darth Vader, who basically created an entire piece of lore or character archetype, respectively.

But the last thing I want to do is undersell the Wicked Witch, because she is still an easy 11/10. I mean, she’s managed to inspire an entire musical, she’s become the villains in numerous reinterpretations of the story despite playing only a minor role in the original book, and she was handled extremely poorly in that movie with James Franco. She’s most definitely left her mark on popular culture, and it’s entirely for the better (Mila Kunis notwithstanding). From her simple goal to her entire personality, everything about her is just completely and utterly enjoyable. She may not have reinvented the wheel in terms of characters… but damn if she didn’t perfect the wheel that was there.

[deeleephotography]

“Crystal Ball”

Philadelphia Museum of Art, PA 2014

Canon Powershot S3

[galaxia-art]

[image description: some ocs in various aus. the first image is of lewis and rami in a fantasy type au, in outfits similar to their hero costumes but with way more unessesary jewelery. rami has a crytal ball and lewis has a tall staff. the image isnt colour apart from their eyes. the 2nd of of the same two and jade in an undertale au with rami as frisk, lewis as chara, and jade as asriel/flowey. the third is of jade and mateo in an fma au, with lin as ed, with two automail legs and her outfit similar to her hero costume but in black and yellow, and mateo as al, still with his scarf. a few other sketches such as lin from behind, her half cape with the snake-cross-thing logo, and one shirtless with some kind of painful looking automail wiring going up her back. cam is also there, as greed. the 4th image is just lin as a mermaid with a golden tail. the fins on her back are slightly damaged. end id]

some very self indulgent aus just for shits and giggles

[cooler-than-cool-beans-blog]

Things I think should be discussed for humans are weird.

~hiccups and our various and strange ways of getting rid of them

~journaling. i mean, we write stuff down that we can just as easily remember.

~cursive vs print. we have two seperate ways of writing the alphabet (not including calligraphy). that has to be strange.

~our ways of “predicting” the future. tarot cards, astrology, crytal balls, etc.

~all the different mythologies we have and how odd they can be at times

~sentimentality. sure you could throw away that paper flower but it was a gift so you won’t even though you really don’t need it. and by extension, antiques.

~emoticons ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

~how we’ll figure out a way to eat pretty much anything

~Double jointedness. Just imagine someone bending their fingers backwards to stretch them out and all the aliens think they just broke their fingers. Then them insisting it doesn’t hurt at all.

~On that note, contortionists. Enough said.

~the many, many definitions of beauty.

~social norms. Think facing the back wall of an elevator or standing just a little too close or far away when speaking. All these rules we follow without even realizing they’re there.

That’s all I got right now folks. Maybe I’ll try to come up with more.