#when morning comes

[whatlightdoes]

Well the night she has fallen--she's down on her knees.

Like the moon drunk and calling, I'm calling to sea.

Oh, sweet west wind wash me--my hands are caked and stained.

Won't you lay down beside me; love, I need your pain.

And you know it's going to be alright,

And you know it's going to be alright,

And you know it's going to be alright,

When the morning comes.

[hinamie]

post-graduation trip airport looks

[thehitchhikerguide]

Season 1, Episode 2: When Morning Comes

Well after that first episode, this one was a bit of a disappointment. First of all, nobody was in it. No surprise stars, just actors that were genuinely not very good. The plot did have a twist that I will get into, but again not nearly as interesting as the first one.

The only really interesting thing about this episode was that the Hitchhiker character interacted a lot with the main character. This was especially weird since the version I saw again did not have the original actor (Nicholas Campbell) so it was clearly reshot with Page Fletcher with different lighting.

This episode starts with the main character, an old ugly dude with a bad body named Bob Ames. He's driving, much like the character in the first episode, however this time he actually stops and picks up the Hitchhiker.

Not sure if this shot is Page or if this is from the original version since it's from the back.

They still haven't figured out how to tie this Hitchhiker character into these crazy plots. This time they actually have a conversation and this is where the Hitchhiker learns that this guy cheats on his wife, but she's totally cool with it. I can't even figure out how that came up in conversation because I thought he was just talking about his family at first. You can tell these scenes were filmed separately and they must have really had to do some interesting editing to merge this new Hitchhiker into these scenes with Bob.

Here is Bob from when they first shot it:

And here is when they filmed the new Hitchhiker:

The colors are a bit different even though these scenes occur right after one another.

Then we see some possible foreshadowing...

I wonder why they showed us this sign?

When he drops the Hitchhiker off at, Bob asks him "What are you going to do?" The Hitchhiker says "Hang around see what's happening." This exchange feels weird and his creepy stare as the car drives off is even more unsettling.

At this point I was thinking he might be the bad guy.

But then the episode goes into familiar territory. After we hear more foreshadowing of a killer blonde on the loose through a police radio, Hitchhiker informs us that Bob thinks he's got the world on a string, but the sky is charged tonight which can sometimes boil the blood and fog the mind. What? There is thunder in the background which almost drowns his speech out, so I guess lightning storms can cause evil to happen? I mean I know from the movie Short Circuit it can cause robots to come to life, but I'm not actually sure where he is going with this. I mean, I bet escaped murderers might be a bigger cause for bad things to happen, but what do I know.

It seems Bob was heading to his cabin in the woods. Maybe he told the Hitchhiker this and I missed it? Anyways he sees an intruder is in his cabin when he gets there, so he goes in pointing a gun at whoever is in there. It just happens to be a naked sexy blonde drying herself off with a sheet. He tells her she looks like Bo Derek - wow what a line!

You can imagine where the story goes from here.

For some reason she has sex with this guy, in a very disgusting scene which I will not subject you to. Her sexy talk was very bizarre, mentioning something pretending she was an animal and then something about cutting her hair and pretending to be a boy. He put on some generic fake rock music and proceeds to dis Devo and the Go-Gos. Yeah those trash bands. But wait a minute I think I noticed something else...

Is there a knife missing? That's weird.

The generic fart guitar on the radio gets interrupted by another bulletin about the escaped blonde from the Rawley State Mental Institution. Where have I seen that name before?

Oh, right.

He seems to piece it all together now.

He accuses her, ties her up, she escapes. What follows is a pretty boring chase scene where this supposed lunatic starts hunting him like an animal. The hunter becomes the hunted.

This doesn't go so well as she ends up getting shot by a female cop with really bad line delivery.

Back at his place with the female cop, and Bob uses his famous Bo Derek line. That sly devil. She supposedly calls the police station to come over and collect the body of the escaped mental patient. At this point, I realized what the twist was going to be.

Ouch, a boning knife! And they didn't even get to have sex.

And this is the end. There is just a voiceover from the Hitchhiker while some car drives by saying that Bob used the same line on everyone (oh right him telling them they look like Bo Derek) but in the end death...something the line. I don't know what he says, I can't actually make out the words. Oh look the car at the end is a hearse. What a twist!

This ending was not quite as interesting as the last one. Very anti-climatic. However, the next episode is one I remember actually seeing back in the 1990s when the show was in syndication and I know it's great. I cannot wait.

[shushmal]

Steve watched Eddie's van turn the corner and shut the front door, closing himself away from the outside world so none of his neighbors could see him as he rested his forehead against the painted wood.

"I'm not going to cry," he told himself.

He said it even as his eyes began to burn and his face began to twist, teeth grinding and throat closing. He wiped quickly at his face, again and again, as he stumbled to the couch to sit, drying each tear as it rolled down his cheeks, clinging to his jaw.

"I'm not going to fucking cry," Steve choked, and then doubled over into himself, arms around his thighs, and he began to sob.

So what if he was twenty-two, living in his parent's house alone, working the same dead-end job with a sixteen year old manager. So what if all his friends and family were in college, spread out from New York to Chicago to Los Angeles. So what if his boyfriend was moving to Seattle for his band and they broke up, because Steve was never going to be his parents, resenting and being resented for keeping his partner from his dreams. So what if he was too scared to ask Eddie to stay, to ask Eddie if Steve could go with him. So what if everyone moved on and Steve couldn't?

Steve grew up lonely. He could get used to it again.

He didn't realize how hard he was crying until the front door burst back open and Eddie hurled himself at Steve's feet, long limbed and clumsy and babbling.

"Baby, oh fuck, I'm sorry," he said, already untangling Steve from himself, tying all his loose ends back up together with his until they were a knot of their own. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Stevie. I never should have— I wanted to—"

"I'm sorry," Steve sobbed back. He gasped and swallowed it all back down. Eddie had already gotten them raveled up again, it would take forever to pick it back apart. Steve knew it would hurt worse this time. "Fuck, Ed, you didn't have to— I'll be okay, I don't want to hold you back—"

"Come with me," Eddie burst.

And Steve couldn't help himself, and began to sob again.

"Please," Eddie begged over Steve's crying, his voice shaking and his face wet enough to match Steve's. "Please, sweetheart, honey, please just come with me?"

Steve took a shaky breath, embarrassed and now too full of hope and fear. "You sure?" he whispered. He pressed his face into Eddie's neck, breathing him in again for what might be the last time, again. "Eddie, don't—"

"I'm so sure," Eddie said. "I'm so fucking sure, Steve, please."

"Okay," Steve breathed. Eddie had always been the braver of the two of them, especially when it counted. Steve leaned back so he could look at him, red faced and watery eyes. He tried to give Eddie a smile, but he knew it was wobbly and weak. "Okay."

All of Steve's fears meant nothing as he watched the happiness break like dawn over Eddie's face.

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[dailymanners]

If you give someone a ride home, or walk someone home, don't leave or drive away until you see them get inside and close the door behind them. Make sure you see to it that they get fully get inside safely before you leave.

This also applies to temporary residences, such as a hotel, airbnb, dormitories, ect.

Seeing to it that they fully make it inside safely isn't just about fear of something as drastic as an assault or a mugging. It would also be awfully annoying and stressful for them if they lost their key, and before realizing they're locked out their ride or walking companion has already sped off, so now they're stuck outside alone with nowhere else to go, and possibly a dead phone (when it rains it pours). Or maybe there's dangerous fauna in the area. Or maybe the neighbor's poorly trained dog with aggression issues is loose. Or maybe they slip and hurt themselves while walking to the door.

Even if you're absolutely positive they'll make it to the door safely, it's still a kind and thoughtful gesture to let them know that you care enough about their safety to see to it that they make it inside safely.

[crustycrackhead]

I got possessed dude, did a line of flour— some crazy shit anyways… Swampcat

Swampcat, Kremy Lecroux x Morning Frost

They both find each other interesting like anatomy wise, drastically different, some “lemme examine you 🤓☝️”

Kremy slowly blinks and Frost gets flustered… that’s the good shit to me man. Purring, Bellows… I SHOOT THEM TWO WITH MY AMERICAN GUN

[rainesjupiter]

World Friendship Day

[whosectype]

I watched the new Spider-Man across the spiderverse

[hilacopter]

I think one of the major reasons the goyische left is falling fast down the Jew-hate rabbit hole recently is that they know antisemitism is bad, but not the how and why besides Discrimination Is Bad And Also The Holocaust Happened. Unlike with other minorities who's history and culture they actually give a shit about, they've never really bothered with learning ours. They don't know the history of pogroms, they don't know the timeless pattern of Jews being the scapegoat, they don't know of Jewish history in the levant and the middle east, they just don't know their shit when it comes to us since let's face it, we've never mattered as much to them as other minorities. And that's how we get a new wave of antisemitism, tropes and conspiracies galore, but with a progressive coat of paint. Replace Jews and Judaism woth a couple of buzzwords and you're fine! Because what is antisemitism? It's hating Jews, there couldn't possibly be more to it. You don't hate Jews on a conscious level, do you? Then you're not antisemitic, congratulations! Actually bothering to learn our history and culture would hit them with the hard truth that antisemitism doesn't just come out of nowhere in the 1930s and it isn't just nazi germany or the white supremacist who lives down the street, but rather the most timeless, subconscious and insidious form of bigotry that no one, no one is immune to.

[writtenonreceipts]

I’m sure it comes as no surprise when I say that the conclusion of When Morning Comes will not be out tonight.  If it is a surprise, need I remind you that I am the worst? Here’s a snippet:

“Mom,” Aelin says.

“I thought you might be hungry.” Evalin is quick to the words, acting as though if she doesn’t get them out Aeln will immediately dismiss her. “Lysandra informed me of what you prefer, but I thought that buying mounds of pizza and wine, as therapeutic as they might be, are not what you need right now.”

Aelin isn’t sure about that.  But then again, it has been a while since she last ate something other than coffee and toast.

“You could have called,” Aelin says.  She’s still wondering about closing the door and pretending this never happened.

“I have been calling,” Evalin replies. “You haven’t answered.”

True enough.  

[temeyes]

when will my big skull man come back from the war,,,,,,,,,,

[dayurno]

it’s fucked up that some of kevin’s descriptors in-book by aftg narrators include words like unparalleled, brilliant, beautiful, disorienting and that riko thought kevin was smart and sharp-tongued and could see potential from a mile away and that every conversation at the winter banquet stopped as soon as kevin day walked into them. my brother you are a force of nature

[naffeclipse]

naff plz, I'm weak and and I hunger 👀

Turns out I am too. This was supposed to only be 500 words. Now we're here smh

Minnow

Reader x Shark!Eclipse

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You have a problem on your hands.

Sitting on the edge of a sea-salt slick rock in your dark wetsuit, the ocean breeze sweeping your hair into tangles, you stare. A whale carcass sits heavy and rotting. The edges of the waves roll up on the flat, tan sand of your seaside home and tug at the giant, dead beast, but one fin is only loosened slightly before the water returns without its passenger. The scent of a festering body hangs in the air and coats the back of your throat.

A sharp fin cuts through the wave farther from shore. You glance at it, but whatever fish swims near dives below, out of sight.

You turn back to the very big problem. It will ruin the beach for the tourists. You’re a council member only in name—more of a glorified intern, despite your best efforts to not only fetch coffee. Whenever there’s a job that doesn’t involve sitting inside around a table, away from the heat and humidity of a summery, oceanic day, it’s pushed into your lap to fix.

You have no idea how to remove a 40-ton whale from the sands.

Your right leg slips off of the rock and your foot splashes into the sea. Before you can fix your stance, tug your knees up to balance on the rock while the tide splashes at the base of your little watery perch, a clawed hand seizes your ankle.

A sharp gasp rips from you. Ripped downwards, you brace yourself, screwing your eyes shut as the ocean water rushes up your body, but something plants itself on either side of you. Pinned to the rock, you shiver at the fresh touch of the sea lapping at your ribs. Your feet barely find the purchase of sand. A shadow falls over your eyelids, and a soft hum spins through the breeze.

“Hello,” a voice growls deep, rumbling through the air and brushing against it. “Might I ask why you’re frowning so much?”

You slowly pry open one eye, then the other before your jaw loosens in wonder and fear. 

A creature looms above you. His head is wide and flat, colored a dark gray. Strange cartilaginous fins frame his head in a crown of sharp, red, and black spikes. The moment you gawk, he flashes a dangerous row of curved teeth with serrated edges. The very breath catches in your throat while his arms, sleek and barred with burnt red stripes, hold you against the sleek rock. 

Your eyes fall down his body. His lithe frame melts from a very human torso into the body of a predatory fishtail—a shark. His underside is pale gray while his back is dark, bearing a wicked dorsal fin with the same barred patterns down his sides in burnt red. Just below the surface, you catch a swishing of a caudal fin. Long and pointed, it cuts through the ocean as if it were mere seafoam.

“What—who are you?” you sputter. Your hands hold defensively to your chest while you return to his unearthly but memorizing face. His eyes burn low in a sharp orange light. 

“I am Eclipse.” He lifts one hand from the rock. A dark talon tips his long, thin finger before he hooks your chin, tilting your head up. The sharp edge teases your skin with how easily it can slice you. You swallow apprehension. His eyes fall to your throat, his teeth flashing in the sunlight. “And I asked you a question.”

Your pulse picks up in your ears, beating double time against the tide. What did he ask you? The echo of his words returns. You slowly form an ‘O’ with your lips.

“I’m not, um, frowning?” Certainly not now, if the terror you hide behind says anything. You curl your fingers into tight balls. “Were you watching me?”

The strange man-fish chuckles a low sound—as if you’re very silly. “I was. You’re quite a lovely sight, perched on this rock like a seabird. But you seemed troubled. You still do.”

He slowly forces your head to tilt this way and that, moving you under the sunlight while he examines you with his piercing gaze. You let him, utterly, horribly confused about how this all came to be. Does he intend to devour you like a tiger shark? Or is it a very strange ‘hello’?

A hum of satisfaction arises, but he is no less intrigued by what he’s captured in his hand. You try to turn away but he holds firm and clicks his tongue.

“There is still something vexing you” he concludes, “Tell me, so I might make it right.”

You almost level a look at him, as if the very interesting occurrence of a fish-man grabbing you and pulling you into the water isn’t vexing enough, but mind your manners. His claws press along your mouthbone. Your heart beats heavy in your chest, against the splashing waters, but your eyes flick towards the beach. Eclipse follows your gaze with narrowed eyes.

“Dead whale,” you say, hoping he doesn’t decide to cut your face with his claws, “I need it off the beach, but, um, I’m not sure how to do that.”

“Oh,” he laughs, and you stop to soak in the echo of his shoulder, melodic and growling. “Is that all? A simple solution, minnow, but I do ask for a small token in return for my help.”

You stiffen. A skip in your chest sends a coldness into your legs and fingertips. You look down, staring at the thin corded strength of his chest, the lissom power of his tail, and how easily he could drag you out to sea should you not give an answer he wants to hear.

How could a herculean task be so easy in his eyes? You almost don’t believe him.

“Minnow,” he rumbles softly and forces your head up higher to capture your gaze. You shiver in the brine. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. I will help you, and you will give me what I desire.”

Desire can be very, very dangerous.

“I’m not giving you people’s souls or whatever,” you say firmly, even if your eyes grow wet with terror. 

Eclipse swipes a thumb along your cheek, wetting it with sea salt and foam. His grin stretches wide until you see into his massive jaws.

“What use would I have of souls?” His tongue swipes over his row of serrated teeth. “No, I want something much more tangible.”

He squeezes your mouth softly until your lips are pushed into a pout, and realization jolts straight into your stomach. A dreaded blood rush fills your cheeks. You burn. Eclipse tilts his head, his eyes widening, flashing with the hunger of a shark in the depths.

“What do you want?” you whisper, your eyelids trembling as you nearly squeeze them shut again.

He leans in closer. You smell the sharp tang of iron and salt upon his breath.

“Seven kisses.”

Your eyes fly open, relieved and mortified. Unfurling your fingers, you try to shake your head but your jaw remains caught in the vice of his grips.

“Seven?” You sputter before spewing, “That’s—that’s a lot!”

“It’s a perfectly natural amount for the task I will undertake for you.” He draws the pad of his finger down the line of your jaw. A shiver overtakes your shoulders as you close your eyes for a heartbeat.

“And if I say no?” you ask quietly, watching him in the way you fear a minnow might watch a shark. 

He leans back. The corners of his mouth pull down.

“Then we shall both be disappointed, and I will leave.”

Your mind whirls at the thought—an easy ‘no’, but you don’t know if you trust him. Why would he do such a task? Why kisses of all things? Will he turn you into a fish after the seventh one? Will he devour you when you get too close? 

“How do I know you’re not going to eat me or down me or something?” you ask, pushing past the rattle in your throat.

Eclipse chuckles but there’s much less mirth in the echo, and your gut twists within you.

“If I wanted to take a bite out of you, I would have forgone the introductions.” His smile spreads wide. 

A cold, unflinching intuition within you agrees.

“Got it,” you murmur. “Just, uh, no biting, okay?”

He looms over you. His claws take you by the shoulders and hold you tighter to the rock. Your lungs freeze. Your rapid pulse fills your head in the same way you hear ocean waves when you hold a seashell up to your ear. 

“Minnow, do you accept my price?” Eclipse’s thumbs rub circles into your wetsuit.

He did not agree to your no-biting rule. Still, you swallow roughly and try to find some sensibility in agreeing to give a fish man kisses. The dead whale will be gone if Eclipse is true to his word. And it’s only a kiss—seven of them.

You press your lips together and close your eyes.

“I do,” you say. You open them again. “How do you want to do this? All at once or—”

A sharp flick of a tail pushes Eclipse against you. A bleeding blush takes over your face, pinned between him and the rock as he gathers your face in his hands. He holds your gaze, orange eyes blazing like a sunset. Your chest heaves. Water laps up against you as his pinky finger brushes against your throat. 

“Slowly,” he answers, voice lowering into a husky growl, “One by one.”

Your insides bubble at the sight of his teeth. A tumble of your heart knocks into your ribs. He lowers himself closer until you close your eyes. The ocean tugs at both of you but he keeps you firmly in place. His lips touch yours. A taste of something sharp and brackish spills into your mouth and you make a soft sound in the back of your throat. He purrs. The vibration touches you before he gently pushes and pulls against your lips like the tide. He gives and he takes, swallowing your affection. A hungry touch of his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth. You find your hands falling to his shoulders and holding on as if upon a lifesaver, lost out at sea.

Then he unhooks his jaws and frees you. A taste of sea salt remains on your tongue. You gasp softly, realizing how much fresh air you crave after his kiss. Your head falls back against the rock as your lungs heave. He still holds above you, tall and towering, but content.

Eclipse's eyes are half-lidded, gentle in his gaze as his claw gently brushes your bottom lip. His tongue swipes back over his own teeth as if savoring the taste of your flesh.

“Thank you for the kiss,” he rasps. “The whale carcass will be gone come morning light.”

“Okay,” you give, still lost in the salty haze the impression of his mouth left on you, “What about the other kisses?”

“Soon, minnow,” he gives with a sharp grin. “I will call upon you soon.”

He takes you by the hips. You gasp, your hands flying to his arms as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water and sets you back upon the rock. You sit, dripping in your stupor, eyes wide at how easily his palms fit over your waist. He rests his talons on the slick edge. His orange eyes upturn as he smiles one last time.

“Goodbye,” he growls gently. His teeth flash as he slips down, and you catch the full length of his impressive tail and sharp, pointed fins. A sharp flip of his body turns him in an instant, the water bending to his whim, and he slowly swims. The tip of his dorsal carries over the waves until at last, he disappears into the depth.

And you are left sitting with a pink heat in your face and a ghostly tang behind your teeth. His kiss leaves you spellbound.

You have an entirely new problem on your hands.

[kaizsche]

GLEN POWELL in CHAD POWERS HULU

[the-golden-weapons]

I’d like to think Jay and Nya are very funny because they are both mechanics, but in entirely opposite ways:

Nya has all her tools in proper order. In her workshop, there is never any scrap part going unused. Any notes and blueprints since the ripe age of 12 have been carefully stored and saved, no matter how much she cringes when looking back on them. The Samurai X designs and revisions have their own file cabinet as well as digital backups. Her measurements are double and triple checked, even though she probably had it right the first time. Every choice she makes is calculated and buffed out, from the interlocking gears to the paint job. She prides on her work on being practical and aesthetic, thank you very much.

Jay, meanwhile, is the definition of fuck around and find out. Blueprints? Who needs em, anyways? The only thing vaguely resembling “notes” in his work area are scrap pieces of paper with the most round-about mathematics ever (complete with indecipherable short-hand and a stick figure drawing of Jay holding a blowtorch, naturally.) He will change up plans on the fly and casually stick his hands in very sharp moving parts like there is no tomorrow. Safety equipment? He grew up in a junkyard. He had a wrench in his hand before he could walk. Yeah, no, he’s pretty sure he’s fine, thanks.