#they wrote this episode for me??

[ashxketchum]

AS THE ONLY OPTIC SHIPPER ALIVE I HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS TOO

Cilan came to pick up Brock for a date do not @ me.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The most evil celebratory kiss

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[petrichorium]

the merman is back.

it’s a little weird how used to him you’ve gotten. he’d only shown up for the first time a few months ago, but when you’re largely alone out on the boat or in your oceanfront lab there’s no shortage of ways for him to visit with nobody around.

he’s yet to tell you a name, but after the first few weeks of silence he suddenly revealed a passable understanding of english; when he speaks it's rudimentary, but he clearly understands everything you say, even if he doesn’t listen half the time.

you haven’t gotten the nerve to get in the water with him. in fact, you haven’t gotten in the water at all since he arrived, even when your colleagues are around and he’s notably not. he’s massive, his tail alone being well over two meters long and possessing the torso of a man who would tower over you on dry land (a handsome man, you're begrudged to admit, with those broad shoulders and blood red eyes and that ash blond hair that somehow looks good immediately coming out of the water). he’s assured you in his blunt, curt way that of course he doesn’t want to eat you but you still have anxieties about getting out into the open water you’ve always loved and being pulled under by a fucking sea monster.

he’s getting bolder, though. when you take the boat out today, he follows it, like the dolphins used to back when you operated out of the keys; that sleek black body would be terrifying just from the size, like seeing a fully grown orca bump up against the hull.

and when you weigh anchor, almost immediately, the boat keels aftward when he pulls himself onto the deck.

you shriek and he immediately pins you with a steely glare. he’s never done that before. it’s fucking terrifying, though he’s not managed to drag his whole body up and you’re a little comforted by that. it’s just his arms—two massive, heavily muscled things that are flexed and crossed in front of him, holding his head, shoulders, and much of his human-like torso up out of the water with ease. that enormous tail trails behind him and it’s still terrifying to see, your heart skipping a beat every time the shimmering orange markings catch your eye.

you don’t know what you’ll do if he decides to come all the way onto the boat. he wouldn’t be able to maneuver that well, but where the fuck would you go? into the damn water?

“fucking christ!” you yelp. “don’t just do that, motherfucker!”

“calm,” he snaps as he rolls his eyes.

the urge to flip him the bird is overshadowed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t understand, and you’re too frazzled to explain what go fuck yourself means. instead, you turn back around to clean up the cabin that he’s managed to mess up.

“oi, human, come.”

you huff, shouting your name at him and pointedly refusing to turn away from your task. he’s clearly annoyed at that, and you belatedly realize that perhaps if you’re really that terrified of him coming onto the boat you shouldn’t provoke him. luckily, rather than heaving himself up, he jerks the entire hull.

it’s a smooth motion for him, gripping the stern and rolling his tail so that the boat moves with him. it’s like being out in a storm, and though you’re well aware that it’s just your needy visitor, your sea-hardened stomach still lurches at the familiar feeling.

you stumble out of the cabin, careful not to be thrown over the edge. “i’m out! holy shit, i have a damn job you know, i can’t spend all my time catering to your whims.”

he stops as soon as you get back on deck. “calm,” he tells you again, and you're really starting to hate the word, “too loud.”

“who’s fucking fault is that? don’t rock my damn ship.”

“sit,” he demands rather than apologizing.

there are a plethora of reasons not to. you won’t be able to get away quickly if you need to, you shouldn’t be encouraging his demands by obliging immediately, you really do have a job to do instead of… whatever this is—instead of listening to any one of those reasons, you ease yourself down with your legs crossed a little ways away from where he’s holding himself.

he snarls, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth. “closer.”

“no,” you snap. “not if you’re threatening me.”

his mouth shuts immediately, brow furrowed and lips pouting in an expression that’s less pleading or apologetic and more contemplative.

“not a threat,” he seems to settle on saying.

you roll your own eyes. “yeah. okay.”

“come here.”

“why?”

“wanna feel you.”

that throws you for a loop. what could he mean by that? you realize that perhaps he’s as fascinated by you as you are by him.

you’ve caught him staring at your body in the past. he’s never reacted like you’d expect—if you’d caught a human looking at you like that and then turning away when you caught his eye, he’d have been checking you out. but when it’s an apex predator of a different species, there’s an entirely different context, one you’re even less enthused about.

you’re standing before you’ve fully thought it through, fully freaked and ready for him to go. you barely get to uncross your legs, however, before he lunges.

it’s far faster than your not-normally-hunted-because-you’re-a-modern-person mind can follow. a cold, clawed hand snaps out to latch around your ankle and yanks you downward, slamming your back into the boat’s coarse deck and then dragging you towards the edge. there’s not even time for you to shriek.

this is it, you think. he’s going to eat you now; he’ll drag you under and rip you apart, or maybe he’ll drown you first as a mercy. you hope he doesn’t want to play with you further, drag you into the water and let go to make you swim because he wants a chase.

the moment your ankle hits the water he stops.

you’re breathing heavily, free leg still braced on the deck, arms finding purchase on a pole nearby. his whole body is underwater aside from his eyes and the very top of his head, but you can still see that massive dark shadow—only little flashes of that pretty orange-gold patterning visible as his scales glint beneath the sun—and it sends a thrill through you. he’s so ungodly enormous.

that hand is still around your ankle, but it’s looser now. his mouth is beneath the waves so he doesn’t speak, but his eyes are soft and almost regretful as he regards you.

“okay…” you move slowly, getting to a better position. it pulls your captive ankle from the water and the movement causes his grip to tighten as if he’s reluctant to remove it—he doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t let you go. you’re forced to sit on the edge of the deck with your feet dangling over the side.

“let me feel you,” he tries again, as if he’s giving you a choice.

“ask,” you decide upon demanding. his words have made you realize, with a burst of shame and a promise to never tell anyone in the future, that you’re not entirely opposed to the strange rude merman feeling you.

you’re gifted a growl, not unlike the snarl from before but lacking the teeth. he’s learning, you realize, not only in not baring those terrifying weapons at you but also in removing his hand from your ankle.

“can i… touch you,” he spits out, like the words and your request are insulting.

and again you think there are far too many reasons to give in just like that. you’ve been around enough children to know that rewarding problematic behavior is hardly the way forward, but there’s a certain part of your brain that’s in control right now and it’s not particularly interested in breaking him of his demanding attitude (quite the contrary, to your chagrin, this very annoying part of your brain is enjoying it).

“are you sure you’re not going to eat me?”

“no eating.” he huffs, wrinkling his nose.

“what, i smell bad or something.”

he regards you, approaching a little closer, and you resist the urge to pull your legs up to hold your knees to your chest.

“smell good,” he says, “not like food.”

all right.

“fine, then. if you’re not going to take a bite out of my calf, then… sure. feel me, i guess.”

he’s just as fast as before, not even waiting for you to finish your sentence before he’s lashing out and grabbing your leg again. this time, he’s not looking at your face; he’s focused entirely on your feet, those big hands inspecting them thoroughly.

it’s rough, and you’re a little glad because if he’d been gentle it would have likely been too ticklish. he’s still careful with his massive claws; you’re sure they’re sharp enough to pierce your skin with ease, and he’s clearly skilled enough to avoid it. you’re more than thankful, because you’ve seen how he hunts with them (he’s dropped disemboweled fish in front of you before as strange gifts) and you don’t want your legs to end up like his prey even if he doesn’t eat you.

he moves on from your feet, both hands latching onto one calf and almost massaging it in reverence. his face is even closer now; you really ought to be more worried by the proximity of those teeth to your skin, but the fascination on his face is so enthralling.

by the time he reaches the back of your knee, you're tensing. while before he’d been mostly in the water, he’s very nearly at your height now, holding himself up by his grip on you and an awkward hold on the deck with his spare hand.

and then he’s at your thigh, and your breath is heavy.

because he’s basically laid out on your lap, one arm wrapped entirely around your upper leg such that his large palm rests flush, fingers spread, against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. and he’s no less fascinated, expression no less sincere, as he pulls further up to get closer.

“warm,” he says, more to himself than you. he blinks, as if shaking away a daze, and his eyes jump up from your thighs to look at your stomach. “soft…”

his head drops. you jump, caught up in the strange haze he's brought with him but snapping out of it as he lays his head on your lap. your heart thumps erratically, your breath long bated. he’s not looking at your thigh anymore, and not your face either—he’s locked on your stomach, your loose t-shirt having ridden up slightly to reveal more bare skin.

you ought to see it coming, really, but when that big, cold hand moves from your thigh to your torso, sliding smoothly beneath your shirt and running up your bare stomach, you yelp and jolt back.

he startles, and then he’s gone, slipping back off you and disappearing down into the murky water. you’re left panting, with nothing but a very wet body and the ghost of his touch on your legs…

and the heat of your face at the knowledge that, while you’d been surprised, you kind of wanted him to go further.

[wastefulreverie]

girl wake up im writing a no one knows au sequel

“Danny, one of these days you have to tell us what’s up,” Sam said. “You can’t stretch yourself thin like this forever. Whatever your secret life has you doing.” “I don’t have a secret life.” Which is exactly what someone who had a secret life would say, but Danny obviously evaded this with the loophole that was being dead. His secret half-life was also none of their business.

[abelle25125]

Part 2 to this post of my understanding of one piece characters from OPLA, 70-ish episodes of the anime and cultral osmosis - this time with a slightly better understanding of how to use ms paint

again, please not spoilers im only on episode 96

[isagrimorie]

Because the whole Tuvix wank is rearing its head every week on Trek forums, I finally decided to rewatch this episode. I mostly avoided it because I am So Tired of the wank and how it's been relitigated for YEARS.

I was over it when it first popped up and I was even more over it with the way it's used as a bludgeon to promote 'psycho Janeway'.

But what's left out in the discussions is Kes's part in all of this, from the jump, Kes was troubled with the merging of Neelix and Tuvok, and anytime Tuvix tried to make advances, she just kept getting more uncomfortable.

(When Tuvix unconsciously touched Kes's shoulder, it looked like she had to consciously not flinch.)

To Tuvix's credit, he did give Kes space and respected her wishes but she was not happy with the whole merge because her relationship with Neelix and Tuvok is different.

We don't see the other people grieve but we see Kes's grief and confusion, which was shared by Janeway. But also, the moment the EMH had a solution to separate the two people in Tuvix, Harry jumped at the chance.

And he's already spent weeks with Tuvix.

The irony is that Janeway was coming around to thinking of Tuvix as an individual but the cure presented itself, but also as the Ship's Captain she has an obligation to care for her crew and absent or not that meant advocating for the two voices who couldn't speak up: Tuvok and Neelix.

Kes was the deciding factor. Kes made her plea to separate Neelix and Tuvok.

Kes was the biggest reason why Janeway decided to separate Tuvok from Neelix.

It was such a cop-out from the Doctor that he refused to do the procedure he made and pioneered. And forced Janeway to execute it instead.

Janeway is clearly not happy about the decision and she's caught between a rock and a hard place.

In Nothing Human Janeway verbalizes it.

"Any consequences of this decision will be my responsibility. Dismissed."

Janeway's constantly put into a wheelhouse of trolley problems, as the only high-ranking Starfleet officer, she is the final authority. In Nothing Human everyone is locked in an endless debate about the morality of using the Cardassians' methods to save B'Elanna's life. Meanwhile, the clock was running down to zero and B'Elanna could have died more.

(Honestly, the story should have been more B'Elanna, Doctor, and Janeway-centric than it was. Nothing Human is a weird episode. Especially since Seven was barely in it and seems to be the Acting Chief Engineer -- amusingly enough because the writers thought they killed Joe Carey between s2 and 3. Alas, poor Vorik, he's not getting any promotions either).

TLDR: Janeway is constantly living through what the Doctor of Doctor Who is living through. Or as the 12th Doctor once said: "Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose."

[shegoeshometoacactuss]

not to be insane but

[leohtttbriar]

the charm of early-seasons kira and dax being this side-step from the bickering screwball couple to something just a bit softer because the writers, i feel deliberately, wanted to write them as friends. so both characters have these interactions, especially in this episode, where they find the other one massively weird but they're also ride-or-die loyal, no-questions-asked; "sure-i'll-change-my-whole-face-to-match-yours-and-dress-as-as-a-religious-leader-in-your-faith-to-which-you-are-notably-devout," "well-i-find-that-the-prospect-of-losing-You-supercedes-the-prospect-of-losing-the-creature-you-carry-that-your-culture-reveres-as-a-far-far-worse-outcome"; one orders the other to leave her behind, the other just carries her from harm; one flies a busted ship, one thumps it with a hammer to get it going in some old school engineering hack; both think the other is reckless, both definitely are reckless; both wear their loyalty to each other like an unobtrusive and understated locket---that is until they feel the need to state it Very Loudly. "don't hurt my weird friend. she's weird. and my friend. which are both precious things to me," they say. the charm of sci-fi alien love, is what it is. also feminism.

[xan-from-space]

Damn, the Ember Island Players were actually kind of radical, weren't they? The more I think about it, the more it feels like the only way it makes sense in-universe is if being Fire Nation propaganda wasn't the point of their play at all. Aside from a barely tacked on ending where Ozai kills Aang, the play is remarkably sympathetic to the Avatar and a bunch of enemies of the Fire Nation, even framing them as being heroes. Even at points in the story where theyre literally killing Fire Nation soldiers, the narrative still seems to be on their side; they're the underdogs, the relatable ones. Its true that the Fire Nation values strength, but still, you'd expect that in a propaganda play they would be portrayed as at least a little bit more sympathetic... And sure, to some extent the gaang's characters could be seen as defamatory caricutures (the slander on Iroh specifically was probably intentional), but that also might be due to the Players getting a lot of their information from the cabbage man, someone who actively hates the gaang and only ever really sees the worst of them. (And notably, that also means that the Players had worked with an Earth Kingdom merchant to produce the play.)

Mocking the gaang is also just clearly not the point of the play or what people are there for. Sokka's actor says that he's constantly being approached by fans; people genuinely love these characters. The gaang have built entire dedicated fanbases in the Fire Nation because of this play. Honestly, the fact that they're on a remote island is probably the only reason they're able to perform the play the way it is. I imagine it would get shut down pretty quickly on the mainland. Considering all the propaganda in the Fire Nation that we've seen so far, I wouldn't be surprised if the ending was only written that way because it's illegal to write a story where the Fire Lord doesnt win. The play reads less like propaganda and more like 'we're doing the bare minimum to get this story past the censors.'

I'm really curious about what it's like behind the scenes for the Ember Island Players. Are their shows just simple, shlocky entertainment, or could they also be deliberate political commentary? With no recording technology, a play is easier to slip under the radar than something like a book: it's impermanent, stays in one theatre, and performances can be easily tweaked if, say, Fire Nation royalty happens to come by. It's interesting to me that Ursa seemed to like them, while young Zuko had a disdain for them, saying they 'butchered' the story of Love Amongst the Dragons; in all likelihood the version of the story Zuko grew up with in the palace was heavily propaganda-filtered itself. Although, to be fair, they're arguably just not very good playwrights. When it comes to the characterization, I do think some of it only seems bad because we know what the actual characters are like, but a lot of it is just bad writing clearly meant for cheap entertainment. For example, they sexualize Katara quite a bit (and there's other, better analysis out there I've seen that examines how they fetishize her as a Water Tribe girl). And, of course, all of the characters are reduced to shallow and stereotypical comedy.

Still, I think they're worth commending for doing their research and telling a story about enemies of the state that's both sympathetic and surprisingly accurate to actual events, if not the characters' personalities, amidst the Fire Nation's rampant propaganda and misinformation. From the little amount of information about them we can extract from the show, they seem like honestly very interesting people. They're walking this tightrope line between being very close to the heart of the Fire Nation but also separate from it; between being cheap, inconsequential entertainment and being a source of actual news for Ember Island citizens; between telling the underdog story about a ragtag group of children and still trying to make it look like Fire Nation propaganda. I'm not trying to make any big argument on whether they were 'actually good people' or whatever, I just want to know more about them. I kind of wish we could see their production of Love Amongst the Dragons now...maybe I'll write something about them someday

[gunsatthaphan]

💋😏

[crehador]

me ferally writing fic based solely on vibes after only one episode of buddy daddies aired:

rei in episode two:

guess who psychically divined that shit (¬‿¬ )

[theinsomniacindian]

I will never get tired of the "If they're going to die, it's going to be by my hand" dynamic

[fruitbythefoot7]

hi this is your friendly reminder that all of the endgame ships (jancy, lumax, byler, jopper) have a very clear parallel between all of them that mlvn very clearly does not have. 

in s1, nancy gets stuck in the ud, calls out for jonathan, and is pulled out and into jonathan’s arms. 

in s2, will is stuck in one of his ud episodes, calls out for mike, and is pulled out and into mike’s arms. 

in s2, hopper is stuck in the ud tunnels, and inevitably gets saved by joyce (who had been calling out his name) 

in s4, max is in a trance, calls out for lucas first, and gets pulled out by lucas’s knowledge of what her favorite song is and falls into his arms. 

and in s1…el is stuck in the ud, calls out for mike, and gets out completely on her own. 

so. what does that say about them? 

[hmslusitania]

“Oi. Listen up.”

Jamie keeps working the knots on his boots but he echoes in on the “yes coach” that the rest of the lads throw Roy’s direction.

“Me and Keeley are back together,” Roy says. “So I don’t want to hear about any of your friends or sisters or who the fuck ever who are single and just perfect for me, got it?”

Jamie gets halfway through wondering who on the team is ballsy enough to try and offer their sisters and single friends to Roy, but across the room, Dani is already throwing Roy a respectful salute.

“Yes, Coach,” he says.

“Well, Coach Kent, I think I speak for everybody in here when I say that we’re mighty glad to hear that,” Ted says.

“Feels like everything’s right in the universe again,” Beard agrees.

“Yeah,” Jamie mutters. “That’s all just fucking perfect.”

The only person close enough to hear him is Sam, who shoots Jamie a questioning look, both eyebrows raised.

Jamie ignores him, finally finishes with the knots in his laces, and doesn’t hurl his boots at Will, but that might only be because Will catches them gracefully and they don’t hit him.

It’s not like… Jamie isn’t, like, 100% over Keeley. He knows that. He doesn’t think he ever will be, but he doesn’t think anyone ever actually gets over their first love. Especially not when they know, without question, that they’re the one who absolutely fucked it up.

And he knows that. He had his chance with Keeley, and he fucked it, and it’s a matter of the better man winning and Roy is the better man and he won, and so Jamie does not understand why he’s suddenly feeling like someone’s kicked him in the bollocks of his heart or whatever.

It’s good. Keeley and Roy are good together and they’re two of Jamie’s favourite people and he wants them to be happy, and they’ve seemed happier when they were together and…

And so what that for a while it seemed like maybe Roy had fucked it with Keeley himself, and he and Jamie were in a club together about it. So what that they were getting close enough for Phoebe to assume Jamie was Roy’s best friend and Roy didn’t fucking tell him to his face about Keeley and put him back in the same level as the rest of the team? So fucking what, yeah? It doesn’t matter.

It matters when Roy turns up at Jamie’s at four in the morning like everything’s normal.

“The fuck is your problem?” Roy asks when Jamie just starts running rather than waiting for Roy to catch up.

“I don’t have a problem, Coach,” Jamie says, and he really shouldn’t, but it feels like a lie.

“Like fuck you don’t,” Roy says.

“You really want to pry into everything wrong with me, Coach Lasso?” Jamie shoots back.

Roy grumbles but stops prying lest Jamie — rightly — accuse him of more Ted-ness.

Jamie trains, and he runs until he can’t feel his legs anymore, and only then, when it’s past dawn, does Roy bother him about it again.

“Are you going to be weird about me and Keeley?” Roy asks.

“No,” Jamie says but that feels like a lie too. “Just thought maybe you’d tell me in person about it because we’re best friends now and all.”

Roy frowns. Jamie braces for whatever sort of rebuke Roy’s going to throw at him — that they’re not best friends, that Roy’s love life isn’t any of Jamie’s business, that Keeley’s love life definitely isn’t any of Jamie’s business anymore.

“I don’t…” Roy starts, slow enough that Jamie pauses mid stretch to stare at him. “I don’t know why I didn’t. But you’re right. And I’m sorry.”

Jamie feels his mouth fall open. It’s just blank shock.

“Don’t be a twat,” Roy scolds when he sees Jamie’s face.

“I’m not, I’m just — wow, Roy Kent apologised to me,” Jamie says. “I’m flattered.”

Roy rolls his eyes, but fond, and Jamie abruptly remembers the last time he’d claimed to be flattered. Colin, recently out to the team, and the team trying to do a headcount and figure out who else in the locker room must be queer.

Jamie’s still not sure how the rest of the lads seemed to entirely miss Trent Crimm’s rainbow mug and Dolly Parton shirt, but they had and they’d looked mostly at him.

“I guess I thought you’d be… jealous,” Roy says, snapping him back to the Richmond Green.

“Nah,” Jamie says.

“Because I know you’re still a little in love with her,” Roy points out.

“She’s Keeley fucking Jones, you don’t just get over her,” Jamie replies and falls forward to do some press ups rather than have to look Roy in the eye anymore. “But mostly I want her to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Roy says, gruff but like he gets it.

“Believe it or not, I want you to be happy to,” Jamie adds, speaking to the grass and tree roots between his hands. “Because you’re Roy fucking Kent.”

Roy doesn’t respond to that, and Jamie keeps staring at the ground. For a moment, he thinks he’s overstepped, and then Roy kicks his heels up to rest on Jamie’s back.

Jamie smiles and appreciates the burn of the extra weight in his triceps and shoulders.

“I appreciate it,” Roy says finally, and something in Jamie’s chest fractures.

It’s not like Jamie doesn’t know what bisexuality is. He’s spent enough time around Keeley that it’s come up frequently. But there’s been some sort of block that sounds a bit like his fuck of a dad between him knowing that, and knowing it about himself.

Because he finally gets it, dripping sweat into the dirt in the early summer morning. He is jealous of Roy and Keeley getting back together.

Trouble is, he has absolutely no idea if he’s jealous of Roy for getting back with Keeley, or if he’s jealous of Keeley, for getting back together with Roy.

[bisexualfbiagents]

Well, that's good. I didn't want to have to tell Skinner that his murder suspect was a giant, blood-sucking worm.

THE X FILES | The Host (2.02)

[juricore]

i know there's been a lot of talk over the last six to ten years about how women in anime went from looking like people to looking very chibi-esque and i mean i know cowboy bebop and ive caught a couple gundams and ive seen satoshi kon films so like i thought i knew what people were mourning when they talked about 90s character design but like now i know....now i know.....this is what we lost as a society........