#o conditional

[trolledu]

[hypnoprincesslottie]

never met a "switch" i couldn't turn into a full-time drooly leaky sub 🤭

[bacchuschucklefuck]

space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie

[lancelotslair]

dinah voice "awww, lets get you to a hospital!"

[sunspot-ship]

platonic f/o imagines — unmasking around your friends

🌺 imagine going to a safe space at the end of a long day—your home, your friend's home, the back of a car, anywhere. imagine leaning into your friend with a huge sigh of relief, letting them hold you up while you recuperate. it feels incredible to be around someone who knows you and loves you because of it, and they love being someone you trust.

🌸 imagine being as loud and talkative as you want!! your energy is so joyful and infectious, your friends can't help but get wrapped up in conversation with you.

🌺 alternatively, imagine relaxing and letting yourself tune out of any conversation. your friends take care to include you, but they don't make you talk; instead, they sit with you and maybe hold your hands, pass snacks and drinks to you, etc. they love seeing you be so comfortable around them.

🌸 imagine sharing some random you song you liked or show you were interested in with your friend. do they like it, or is it not really their thing? either way, they like that you like it!! they'll offer to give you the aux cord or let you pick the show without hesitation, and they love listening to you talk about the things you like.

🌺 your friends don't make fun of you for being unsure or not knowing basic things about yourself. instead, they help you explore, and take any sudden changes—in likes and dislikes, in personality, in identity—in stride. they're so happy for you when you learn something about yourself, especially after so long of hiding and drowning.

🌸 your friends love you, in any form, not just the person they first met. watching you grow and change, and growing and changing alongside you...they wouldn't trade it for the world.

[dewarism]

these photos have killed three people and wounded several others - more on this story at 11 o'clock

[so-very-small]

me at age 12: omg i wanna be cuddled and hugged by a giant <3

me at age 18: if a giant touches me i’ll scream. i wanna be near one though. maybe we can cuddle. maybe not. i’m evil btw

me at my current age of 26: i would very much like to be cuddled by a giant, but i think i have kidney stones again so if anyone or anything touches me i’ll be Mad. i’d love to share a blunt with one though. we can cuddle when i don’t have sharp rocks in me

12 y/o me: what’s a blunt

18 y/o me: wghat do you mean “AGAIN”. kidney stones AGAIN?

26: don’t worry about it.

[h0lyweird]

Too many “your f/o loves you unconditionally they told me so” posts. Where are the “your f/o is so proud of the fact that you’re locked in their basement that means they love you clearly :)” posts

[gofancyninjaworld]

The New Ninja Arc So Far (Review)

RIght, they do say that third time's the charm! I'm hoping that ONE and Murata are happy with how this falls on the page this time.

I am SKIPPING any summary: we've seen this enough times. Let's go straight to Meta, shall we?

Meta

Hard stop

So, in a Youtube video I can no longer find, some wag called Saitama a guy suffering from Premature Eradication Syndrome. It's pretty accurate -- he doesn't so much have fights as he has encounters that end when he decides to stick his fist out. The suddenness with which fights can end in OPM is something that really got me into the story. While Saitama is the guy who most often does this, it happens elsewhere, like with the unfortunate Sky King.

Rest in pieces. I'm sure you were a tough monster but, unfortunately, you were just in the way.

And alternatively, fights that you think will end quickly don't and turn into horrifying prolonged struggles that sap combatants' very will to live. So it goes!

This is why you see readers who have been raised on the choreography of shonen and action movies flipping out, alternatively ranting about how a certain 'monster' was 'wasted' and decrying fights that go on for longer than expected. Sorry! Life-and-death struggles aren't portrayed here as action pieces. [1]

I'm always down for some Premature Eradication Syndrome. I was personally delighted to see that right as Flashy Flash was about to shiskabob himself some Tenninto, Blast comes in and stops the whole fight, beating down the Tenninto himself when they try attacking him.

Now this is another definition of 'sudden death'.

The beliefs that enslave

With this, I see that the initial idea ONE had of the Tenninto surviving has come back, albeit in a different way. I'll start with another idea that has returned: the question of what freedom is. Initially, we had Flashy sparing them, first to gloat, second to show off his superior understanding of what the true purpose of the Ninja Village had been, and thirdly, out of a sense of pity for them having had their lives stolen. Which amused them greatly, as they saw freedom as lying in serving a master faithfully.

Gosh, that was so CREEPY.

This time around, as we see Flash turning over Sonic's words in his mind and wondering whether the idea of freedom was an illusion, the narration lets us know that despite being free of the Ninja Village, none of the fighting parties had the slightest idea of what freedom actually meant due to how restricted their upbringings had been: it's a much sadder affair, one of ninjas unable to escape the cruel fates they've been shaped to accept. In a way, it shouldn't surprise us that they fight: we've seen that each and every ninja is convinced that he alone is the best and is prepared to die proving that to be the case, no matter how hopeless it is. It's just lucky for Sonic that Saitama is as tolerant as he is strong.

Freedom is a lot more than merely not being in captivity.

A few chapters ago, we'd seen Blast musing on how ninjas seem fated to kill each other in a struggle for power, only to replicate the same cruel conditions that make more ninjas, and have the cycle repeat anew. Looks like he has decided to step in and try to break this particular cycle. Whether he will succeed is something we'll just have to see.

Fame, power, influence. Kill your way to the top and make more minions fit only for death. That appears to be the real ninja way.

I have many more thoughts on cages, but I'll have to leave it here.

Ohhh, it all starts to add up

ONE's simple observations are really freaking obvious, and yet surprisingly frequently overlooked. One of them is that for someone to share information with you, they need two things: first, to know what it is that you want to know, and second, a reason to share it with you. We were initially treated to the hilarious scenario of Genos popping out of Saitama's wall to smack Flash on the head with a cup of hot tea, having eavesdropped on the proceedings next door, and then the slightly cringe scene of him delightedly inviting Blast to come back to consult Saitama whenever he liked. Ah Genos, you are so crazy, like a cybernetic Oscar The Grouch.

Genos is so much like a proud mother sometimes. He thinks it's because he told the HA to call Saitama if they heard from Blast. Let us not disabuse him just yet.

But not so fast...

Blast knows where Sonic's hideout is: he has it bugged. However, some time after Saitama left, Blast came back to Saitama's, apparently in the hopes of finding a lead on where Sonic's current whereabouts might be. He did not see Flashy Flash get a challenge letter, and was in conference with Sicchi when the former left, so has no idea of where the ninja could have gone to even think of following him. Sonic has definitely not sent Blast a challenge letter as he didn't even know that the guy was around.

ONE has been diligent in not creating a plot hole of leaving Sonic possibly aware of Blast's presence.

Genos sure as hell doesn't know where Sonic might be. However, he knows a few things. One: that Saitama has a stash of challenge letters from Sonic. Two: where Saitama would have put those letters. Three: they have a freakish dog that just might be able to pick up Sonic's scent. And, most important of all, four: he really likes that Blast *has* come back to consult Saitama and so wants to help.

All of this is how Blast ends up presenting one of those letters to Overgrown Rover, sweat beading on his face as he thinks what an incredibly stupid idea this is, and how desperate he has to be even to be considering it.

if it's stupid but it works...

And how, despite its stupidity, it works: the monstrous scenting ability of the dog does lead him to the correct place.

...it's not stupid.

So, who's minding the shop?

This time around, Blast has not told Flashy Flash or Saitama anything about That Man; not his real name (Empty Void), not his relationship to him (former partner), and certainly not his strategic importance. It's clear that Void is still extremely important to some plan that Blast and Sicchi have, and that it is primary importance that Void is wrest from 'God's' clutches, no matter what he's done in the past and no matter the cost.

Ah yes, Void, former partner, ex-brother-in-law, serial child abuser, slave trader, assassin, and now avatar of an evil eldrich being. Totally the guy you want to stick your neck out for.

All Saitama knows about this guy is that he was an exceptionally cruel ninja, buying boys and brutalising them into being either killers to be sold onto criminals or turning them into minions to serve an evil entity called 'God'. He knows that Sonic is being menaced by this cruel ninja and a bunch of ne'er-do-wells, and he's gone specifically to save Sonic. [2]

Saitama...actually taking the initiative to reach out to someone out of empathy... well, I did NOT have this in my bingo list.

Currently, he's alone in Sonic's former hideout, where Void is going to be showing up sooner rather than later. And Blast isn't there to intercede.

Hmmm, I don't know about you, but I have a feeling this isn't going to end well for Void or Blast. I have some popcorn I'm dying to pop and munch on as I read the way this goes down.

Asides

[1] That said, when ONE is writing shonen, he knows the formula well and executes it beautifully: the fights Mob gets into and the sprawling battles of Versus are testimony to that.

[2] FUCK, I AM STILL SHOOK!!!! Like even the mightiest mountain is shaped by wind and water, Saitama is slowly changing! And in this case for the better. Wow.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

🐟 Fishuary 2024 Day Two: Salmonid 🐟

The humble (and hungry) rainbow trout, Oncorhynchus mykiss! I wanted to draw one as I will be conducting research on rainbow trout during this year, no doubt I will get very familiar with them :]

I also have a version without the thick outline. I don't usually do it (because usually I draw linelessly), which way looks better?

@fish-daily

[a-study-in-bullshit]

i refuse to be embarrassed of who I am and what you once were just because you changed and think I should too

[fisheito]

They turned my boy into Gary...

tbh it was kind of liberating because if the devs themselves can fall to the ol' gary keytrap, then i, too, can sometimes let my mortal follicles flow downward, and allow myself to lettersmash about gary and/or kary in my accidental overenthusiasm

[justaquestioninggirl29]

I created this poll in response to a post made by @icarianlibrary.

If willing, please reblog for sample size!!

[dinguspingle]

Look what i found in the charity shop today !!! One euro each!!! Holy carp !!!! I bought Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge !!!! I am happy !!!!

[methoughtsphantom]

dead on main arranged married au but it’s all because of some random guy who heard from the realms that the prince was single and wanted to marry for power, only that’s not how it works. the bonding spell instead has lady gotham, who has jurisdiction on her city, being given the choice to choose one of her own to marry off the prince. of course she chooses Jason. This is unbeknownst to him. at least, until a justice league dark magical emergency has Jason trying to summon the all blades only to get glowing flamey green guns instead.

[ccieatchildren]

Scars

Shower steam filtered in through the open bathroom door, warming the bedroom and permeating the smell of soap in the air. They had been reapplying ointment, what little he had given them, to their still healing wounds and rebandaging them. Whumpee turned from their spot on the edge of the bed to watch as he walked in. There was a certain swagger to the way he carried himself that they despised. However, while Whumpee hadn’t been here for long, they had already learned not to engage with him if they didn’t have to– it wasn’t worth the risk– so Whumpee just stared.

A towel was slung low around his waist and his hair was still damp, leaving droplets of water in his wake. His half naked body was on full display, and Whumpee couldn’t stop from curiously analyzing each part of him. They typically didn’t get to see much of him due to clothing or dark lighting getting in the way, but now they could see the various scars littering his frame. 

There were two slash marks on his lower right abdomen that formed an uneven cross, a line of indented flesh that seemed to encircle his whole left bicep, a bullet wound sat right above on his shoulder, and on his right collarbone were four deep cuts, almost like claw marks. Whumpee hadn’t expected someone like him to have so many cicatrices, he was a simple researcher, and while they did get hurt sometimes, they typically were small cuts from broken glass or chemical burns. They had their own to confirm. Furthermore, normal villains usually had many more lesions and blemishes across their figures from many fights and powers going haywire. Though, he wasn’t like many normal archetypes anyway. 

Their train of thought was cut off by a deep chuckle. “Like what you see?” 

Whumpee blushed, glaring at him, and turning back to what they were initially doing. He continued to snigger at their embarrassment while they furiously tried to refocus on patching themself up. The thought of the line being cliché and overused made them feel a bit better, and they continued to bash him in their head to calm themself down as they worked. 

The rustling of a towel could be heard as he dried off his hair, sounding like a wet dog shaking itself dry. Then, they could hear him shuffling in the background, presumably fetching clothes from the closet. Whumpee tried to keep their gaze solely on what they were doing, but could no longer concentrate on their task. Having been caught staring, and him misinterpreting their attention, irritated them, but now they were even more curious. Forcing themself not to look, only made them want to look more. Whumpee cursed themself for having the self restraint of a five year old…

Slightly pivoting their head to peek at him again as he picked out his attire, they barely managed to stop themself from gasping at the sight. His back was still turned to them, and scrawled there was one of the most unsettling wounds they had ever seen. Along his upper back, spanning from the left shoulder to the right the word “BASTARD” was carved in large letters. The raised skin along his shoulder blades conveyed that the cut had healed long ago, but whoever had done it, made sure to slash deep enough so the mark would stay there forever. They had seen many things, from their own burnt skin melting off, to arms completely torn off, but the deliberately and aggressively engraved swear on his body disturbed them in a way they had never felt before.

Whumpee had never met anyone, villain or otherwise, who intentionally and methodically cut someone in a way that would leave them alive but always wearing a reminder of their experience. Especially in a way that exuded so much wrath and resentment. At least not until Whumper. They looked down at themself and the injuries that adorned their body. Was he using the same techniques on them that someone else had used on him? The thought made them shiver. Vigorously returning to their task, Whumpee swore to themself that they would not allow Whumper to scar them like he had been himself. 

— — — — —

“Just ask.”

Whumpee flinched. They had just finished one of their sessions and Whumper decided to patch them up afterwards this time. They would much rather do it themself, as his hands would always roam to places they didn’t need to, but Whumper would use better medicine whenever he played medic, and knew how to bind the wounds tighter than they ever could with their, now constantly, trembling fingers. They also weren’t allowed to say no to him.

“W-What?”

“I can practically hear the questions bouncing around in your head.” He suddenly pulled the bandage harshly, pulling a gasp out from them. “Not to mention the hole you’re burning into my back with your staring.” The hand on their middle considerably tightened, “it’s starting to piss me off, so ask.”

Whumpee contemplated his demand, unsure if he meant it or if it was just another one of his tricks, baiting them to make a mistake just so he could beat them again. But they could feel him getting agitated behind them, therefore they had to say something. However, Whumpee didn’t think asking him what was really on their mind would go over very well. They had to think of something quick, but, unfortunately, when it came to talking they didn’t work very well under pressure. So…

“How do you get your hair so sleek?” Whumpee wanted to smash themself over the head with a glass. This was the best their brain could come up with? Might as well say goodbye to a calm evening.

Whumper was still behind them, and they were already saying their prayers, until he barked out a laugh. “What?” The amusement pervaded his tone. “You have been ruminating for the past three days on how I do my hair?”

“… Yes.”

He continued to cackle behind them as Whumpee quietly panicked, hoping that was enough to quell him.

“Aww, that’s cute, darlin’. Didn’t know you still had the quips in you.” He took a moment to pretend to wipe a tear from his eye. “But I don’t think that’s what you’ve been thinkin’ about.” Arms locked around their waist, pulling them flush against him. A dark voice whispered in their ear, “Now, I’ve indulged your little game,” his arms constricted, pushing into their stomach, agitating their injuries, “letting you figure out the best way to approach this,” Whumpee looked away. “If I’m honest, it was quite nice to see you contemplate whether to ask me or not,” his voice grew smug, “it means you’re learning, becoming more obedient, which will only make things easier for the both of us in the future.” Whumper squeezed even further once again, and they groaned from the pain. “For that, I’m giving you an out. Be good and I’ll reward you. So,” he growled, “ask the damn question.”

Whumpee gulped. “Fine. Ju- Just let go,” they pushed at his arms, “it hurts.”

Whumper clutched them tighter. Whumpee could feel some of their wounds reopen under the pressure. “I’ll let go when you stop wasting my time.” 

“Okay, okay,” they wheezed. “I just wanted to know about the large scar on your back,” the ache was getting worse. “The one that says bas–.”

He abruptly let them go, allowing air to filter back into their system and dampening the pain to a dull throb. “I know the one.”

Whumpee froze, trying to suppress their oncoming coughing fit. They didn’t want to set him off when he was obviously very displeased. He curtly got up and headed for the door, leaving them with the final words,

“Do not bring it up again.”

Extra:

Fuck that motherfucking mothafucka. 

Whumpee wanted to punch something, they just did what he asked and now he’s mad at them, like it’s their fault.

Fuckin’ hate that fuckin’ kidnappin’ piece of shit. They continued to curse to themself as they finished the job Whumper brusquely left to them. Closing up the now open cuts, applying ointment, and finally bandaging them for the– hopefully– last time that day. Whumpee sighed to themself. Who were they kidding, he would ruin them again at night. But at least they had a new piece of information to exploit.

It may take a while, but they will escape from here and see everyone again.