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#god's own country rewatch
prophetictense · 1 year
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It's beautiful here —
God's own country dir. Francis Lee ; The solitude of Night by Li Bai (trans. Shigeyoshi Obata) ; Sanctuary by Jean Valentine ; winter migrants by Tom Pickard ; unknown; Bliss and Grief by Marie Ponsot ; [He is pruning the privet] by Joanne Kyger ; Give me the splendid silent sun by Walt Whitman
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queer-reader-07 · 4 months
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was discussing queer films i've watched with a friend the other day (which is an embarrassingly small amount but i digress) and i was reminded that i have, in fact, watched God's Own Country
and if i'm being honest i don't remember much from that movie other than the fact that the two main guys have unprotected gay sex on the ground, in the dirt, on some farm and how everyone in my Gender in Lit & Film class (because of course i watched this for educational purposes) was like "wait ok pause please. THATS SO UNHYGIENIC AND DIRTY THEY'RE IN THE MUD AND NOT EVEN USING A CONDOM" and my teacher was just like "love that y'all are invested in safe sex practices but can we get back to the movie?"
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wuntrum · 1 year
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thinking today will be a day i watch movies that will make me insane. godbless
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art--harridan · 1 year
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[Image description: A digital painting of Johnny and Gheorghe from God's Own Country. It's only of their faces, with Gheorghe's juxtaposed over Johnny's. Both have blank expression, staring off into the distance as if deep in thought. The background resembles the texture of grass, and has some hastily draw pink flowers over it. The pair have a pink outline around them. Above the paintings, there's a vague neon green gradient that lights the side of their faces.]
Inktober Day 31: Farm
Film: God's Own Country
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pikslasrce · 1 month
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oh the wifi is so bad here..
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comicaurora · 20 days
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Opinions on fullmetal alchemist?
Brotherhood is the best anime ever made.
It's the most tightly-plotted slowburn mystery I've ever seen. Everything ties together. It makes more and more sense the more times I rewatch it, which in a mystery story is goddamn rare. In the very first episode, the filler villain at one point says "You don't understand the shape this country is in!" and that's a completely innocuous thing for this character to say except no it isn't
The magic system is a beautifully hard arrangement that never breaks its own rules, and it effortlessly explains everything you need to know to follow every alchemy-based twist just through the explanation of equivalent exchange and the question "what could equal the value of a human soul?" Alchemy follows equivalent exchange at all points and functions basically like Advanced Chemistry, and whenever it looks like the rules are being broken, it's just because somebody is burning human souls to do it.
The cast is massive, but never crowded. Everybody has a part to play. Even the seemingly-interchangeable minion characters all end up being unique contributers to the plot; there is truly no separation between Main Characters and Minor Characters because at any point anyone can turn out to be suddenly deeply important.
Contains a profound philosophical meditation on how even the most powerful person is not omnipotent, and the purposelessness of a power that can't be used to save the people they love, and this theme culminates in the only instance of the "extremely cool powerful badass sacrifices all their powers" trope that I actually 100% like.
Somehow this slowburn hard-magic mystery builds up to a massive anime confrontation about teenagers using the power of friendship to kill god and it never makes any buckwild leaps to get there. The resolution is emotionally satisfying and ridiculously kickass.
There are stories that I come back to more often, or hit me harder in the moment, or contain higher highs, or had more impact on their genres, but FMA:B is, pound for pound, the best anime ever made. 10s across the board.
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httpdollie · 6 months
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OBSESSIVE FANBOY! CHOSO KAMO X FEM! READER HCS
warning: yandere themes, stalking, dub-con, coercion, breeding, whiny perv!choso, dancer! choso, manipulation, somno, dark content (i’m not responsible for the content you consume)
request are closed for one piece
blank blogs and minors will get blocked ( i check)
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Fanboy! Choso who makes kpop choreo and kpop reaction videos on youtube and has a huge fanbase of his own
Fanboy! Choso who found out about you on kpop stan twitter after your group debuted and blew up after your b-side music video was released
Fanboy! Choso quickly fell in love with your beauty and talent as the center and lead vocalist in your group
Fanboy! Choso who loves how contrasting his grunge aesthetic is compared to the soft colours your wore all the time
Fanboy! Choso who’s very openly obsessed with you, to the point where it annoys his brothers sometimes
Fanboy! Choso who has to hide the fact he’s a solo stan on his youtube but watches fancams and edits of you all the time
Fanboy! Choso who’s dedicated and shows up to every single one of your concerts even if it’s not in his country, when he’s been questioned by a fan once he claimed it cause he was interested in making choreo for the group
Fanboy! Choso who’s has a anon account that has over 16.K followers on kpop twitter for having an insane photo card collection and posting selcas and edited fancams and simply being a fan that knows an intense amount about you (but no one cares cause he also posts hand pics)
Fanboy! Choso who forces his brothers so listen to your group and pick a bias and secretly got annoyed when yuji said he also biases you.
Fanboy! Choso who has fans that feed into the delusion that the two of you are soulmates and make fan edits and fanfiction of you guys ( he reads and watches them religiously)
Fanboy Choso who has every version of lightstick you have, his obsession is so bad he had to make new bookshelves to hold all his stuff (seasons greetings packs , postcards, framed pictures, signed shirts, albums and cd’s)
Fanboy! Choso who accidentally made his way into the toxic side of your fandom and made friends with other stan’s and would highkey be a toxic fan and dox anti’s
Fanboy! Choso who goes crazy when you get asked what your type is said your type was alt guys and dark hair, he immediately tweeted how “y/n literally made that comment about me guys!” not realizing his was on his main account…
Fanboy! Choso who almost died when he realized your group member account liked his tweet
Fanboy! Choso who religiously watches variety show and interviews with you because he adores your voice, mannerisms and personality
Fanboy! Choso who stalks your instagram account daily and rewatches your stories and scrolls through your posts
Fanboy! Choso who loses his shit when your manager reached out to him to make choreo for the title track of your first full album, he plays his cards safe and makes a very cute yet alluring
Fanboy! Choso who’s swears luck is on his side when he sees you moving into an apartment complex after working with you, he spotted with a security moving boxes into a lobby and truly started questioning of god existed
Fanboy! Choso who just happened to move to the apartment complex across from yours, acting surprised when you finally bump into each other, he felt like he was insane for doing it but felt so relieved after he saw how you smiled at him; makes him feel like anything is worth it if it’s for you
Fanboy! Choso almost had a heart attack when you dropped by to give him a welcome to the apartment complex by giving him a cake, and coffee mentioning how you’ve seen a couple of his videos and knows what he likes (he thought his cover was blown and almost started crying and apologizing on the spot until you said you want him to help you with choreo)
Fanboy! Choso who has a album on his phone dedicated to you of videos he took while training without you knowing, specifically pics he took and refuses to show to anyone, including his brother
Fanboy! Choso remembers when his ex said he was very hardworking and how she admired it, and hopes he’s good enough for you
Fanboy! Choso who feels so guilty everytime you post, he can’t help but get a hard on
Fanboy Choso who makes choreo for your group for the second time and feels so guilty about making it more sexual than normal but says it’s for a new “sugar and spice” concept for your comeback
Fanboy! Choso who acts so innocent when he grabs your ass or your tits telling you how he didn’t mean to
Fanboy! Choso who’s guilt immediately washed away when he sees you performing such a sexual dance in frilly form fitting dresses, miniskirts and thigh highs all done up like a doll, he felt zero shame in recording
Fanboy! Choso who made cum tributes to your normal pictures
Fanboy! Choso who dyes the a skunk stripe the same colour as yours every comeback (even if you’re wearing a wig or not) as a way of remind him of you
Fanboy! Choso who buys the perfume you wear, spraying it on dirty clothes of yours he stole to smell while he jerks off to panty shots he took, the second he cums he feels so guilty
Fanboy! Choso who sneaks into your room and jerks off to your pretty face and body while you sleep with your panties wrapped around his cock
Fanboy! Choso who can’t help but feel you up, kissing your neck gently, telling you how pretty you look and how talented and beautiful you are whenever you train together
Fanboy! Choso who tampers with your birth control til it’s ineffective so you go off it not knowing why it stopped working
Fanboy! Choso who loses control after you train in a pink miniskirt and white cami with no bra
Fanboy! Chose who loves using you in your sleep, leaving you nice, full and confused for the morning
Fanboy! Choso who can’t stop apologizing while he has you pressed against the couch, hands pinned together with one of his while the other rubs and caresses your tits and tights oh so gently, kissing your neck softly muttering about how sorry he is when he pressed his bulge against your cunt. whimpering about how warm and pretty you are and how good he wants to make ou feel.
“Oh fuck bunny, you’re so tight.” He groaned loudly, watching your eyes shut tight as he pounded you into your couch. “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t hold back anymore- you look so good in this skirt, and your tits were practically falling out of your shirt like a slut… Ah fuck!” He said, unapologetically. Continuing to slam his thick cock deeper and deeper into you.
You felt your legs tingle as he has them pressed next to your ears, leaning forward pressing a sloppy kiss along your jawline peppering your cheek before kissing your lips, oh so passionately. His eagerness and desire for you practically had you dripping for him when he first lifted your miniskirt.
He picked up the pace, chasing closer and closer to his climax, whimpering and moaning into your mouth. You felt his tip kiss against your cervix, making your toes curl as he reached deep inside your puffy pussy. “I’m gonna cum bunny, fuck! I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy!” He moaned against your lips. feeling you squirm under him squeaking about not being on birth control. Your pushy clenching around him while you panicked, making his heavy dick twitch inside you.
“Choso! Oh my god! Pull out, it’s not safe for me!”
“Oh fuck don’t say that- I can’t stop, baby your practically milking my cock! I’m sorry bunny!” he groaned loudly before pressing his lips against yours, holding you down while his cum flooded your cunt. “I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” he whispered apologetically. Kissing you more tenderly to show his apology. His actions saying otherwise as you felt him get hard again as pushed his cum deeper inside you.
Fanboy! Choso who begs you to go along with a fantasy for weeks before you actually do it because he was so needy, so you finally go stage with a heart shaped plug in you pretty cunt, making sure you keep your cum inside you when you talk to your fans during a fan meet
Fanboy! Choso who exposes his obsession with you after he blindfolded you and took you to his bedroom, he took it off while he was balls deep inside you begging for you to make him a good daddy
Fanboy! Choso who leaks a sex tape of you all fucked out and dripping with his cum so he can have you all to himself…
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staliaqueen · 9 days
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I rewatched The Avatar and the Fire Lord a few days ago, and god, what a good episode. Revealing that Zuko is a descendant of both Sozin and Roku was a genius move (and that's not even getting into the Zuko/Aang parallels of it all). But there's something the show doesn't seem to think of, and that I haven't seen anyone in the fandom discuss either — the fact that Zuko isn't the only one descendant from both these men. Azula is, too.
The conclusion of this story that Iroh presents to Zuko at the end of the episode is that he alone — because of his lineage from both men the war was started from — is uniquely capable of cleansing the sins of his family and the fire nation and bringing peace to the world. But, the thing is, there's two sides of this conflict, and therefor two sides to its legacy. The external and the personal. The legacy of the external is the war, but the legacy of the personal is the sibling rivalries that kept repeating through generations of the royal family.
Though Roku and Sozin were not actually related, they were childhood friends as close as siblings and fucking shared a birthday, so the symbolism works. We know very little about Azulon's childhood or if he even had any direct sibling rivalries like this at all, but from what I can find on his wiki page, we know that Sozin favoured him over "other family" (I'm assuming his siblings). What we know very well, however, is what happened in the next generation between Iroh and Ozai. We know Azulon favoured Iroh over Ozai, and that this likely is the initial source of their hatred for each other, which resulted in perhaps the worst sibling rivalry of them all (what with the indirect patricide and throne stealing).
Then we go on to Zuko and Azula, whose upbringing kept going in the same patterns, but the key difference is them being the first ones to both be descendant from the men who started it all. If Zuko having this lineage makes him uniquely capable of ending the cycle of war in his country and restoring balance to the world, shouldn't that mean that both he and Azula having this lineage makes them uniquely capable of ending the cycle of brutal sibling rivalries and restoring balance to their family?
This conclusion I've presented seems to fit perfectly with the lesson Aang draws from the same story as well:
"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves that anyone's capable of great good and great evil. Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance."
I know this is supposed to be foreshadowing to Aang refusing to kill Ozai later, but I can't help but think it's even more applicable to fourteen year old Azula. It's really so ironic that the show runners thought Azula deserved what she got when their own show seems to be telling them that Zuko mending his relationship with her is what he ultimately should've done.
But, then again... that does sort of make her the perfect tragedy.
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I'm finishing up my rewatch of season 3 of The Boys before I begin my SPN rewatch (got 2 more episodes left) and watching Jensen's performance as Soldier Boy just absolutely floors me.
It floors me because I've seen antis time and time again claim that Soldier Boy/Ben was essentially Dean in a superhero suit, that Jensen has one note acting, that he watered down the character by refusing to do scenes that made him uncomfortable (especially by one anti blog in particular who claims to be an acting expert, you know the one), and that his acting is very bland.
But in studying his performance because I'm studying the character (for writing purposes), these people couldn't be more wrong. I will admit that the only time I got a semi-Dean vibe from him was during the scene where Soldier Boy tells Butcher about his father. Which doesn't surprise me because Jensen himself said he leaned into the Dean/John dynamic for that scene.
But otherwise, I don't see anywhere where their claims hold any water. I mean, have you actually watched his scenes?
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This scene is so important. Annie is getting ready to face off with this guy and even though she knows he's dangerous (after seeing he results of one of his explosions up close and personal), but she has no idea how dangerous, not really. This isn't Dean. This isn't Beau. This is the dangerous side of Solider Boy and had Hughie not intervened, there's a good possibility shit would have gone even more sideways. Especially, with Ben coming off of the confrontation with Countess, her hitting him where it hurts the most (meaning she tapped into one of his biggest insecurities. That explosion wasn't an accident (like NYC or even at Herogasm with the Twins). Ben didn't black out here. That's shown to us by there being no Russian trigger, despite him learning that Countess and his team handed him over back in 1984 and didn't even get paid for it.
I mean, look at this expression right here. His body is moving but his eyes don't. He's getting into position, ready to take out the next threat. Only when Hughie steps in and Annie's eyes dim does he step away, assessing her as not a threat. This is the weapon that is deadly enough to take on Homelander and no matter where you stand on Jensen as an actor, he pulls it off here.
The physicality he utilized in this role speaks volumes. And it's not about Soldier Boy being a Supe or being in a suit or having to look pissed off all the time (minus the few times he's amused). It has to do with how he embodies that character, carries him, and if he pulls it off. Spoiler alert: he did.
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This scene exemplifies exactly what I'm talking about. I have watched it countless times and this part of it always sticks out to me every single time. Look at that expression, look at the eyes. Ben is not going all out to sell this belief let's call it to Hughie. He's giving him a look that says "this is the truth and you better believe it or else". He's not smiling for news cameras or doing propaganda or greeting fans of his movies decades prior. He's not selling the Soldier Boy is America's Greatest Hero image here. He's subtly threatening Hughie, and this is where he begins to have an issue with him. Because Ben wants to see himself as the good guy, something Kripke, Jensen, and the cast have talked about in promoting the season. In his own mind, he is the good guy; he's a legend in his own mind so to speak. He's bought the hype about himself. And anyone who doesn't see him that way is an enemy aka a threat.
It doesn't mean he doesn't know he's doing things that aren't right (as we saw in those outtakes of the 'Don't-do-drugs' commercial). He's very self-aware but he justifies it to himself because he's Soldier Boy and almost like Homelander always says, he can do what he wants. Not necessarily that he has a god-mentality that rivals Homelander's but everything is justifiable in his mind because he's a Supe, or more precisely the Supe, and he's protecting his country. And it also keeps that insecurity of being a disappointment at bay that he has from his childhood. It's all layered into his make-up so to speak. So not only is Hughie a threat (not physically obviously but to Ben's image of himself) but is also bordering dangerously close to reminding him of the very thing he hates: a mirror that reminds him that maybe his dad was right about him (not saying he was, I'm saying this is potentially what is running through his mind). So not only does it share a brilliant parallel between Hughie and Annie when it comes to Soldier Boy that eventually plays out beautifully in the Tower Scene in the finale, but it also is sewn into the issue between Hughie and Annie this season in their own relationship.
But the way Jensen plays that scene is phenomenal because if you watch it, you realize if Hughie says one wrong thing, he may be in trouble.
Which is then continued in this scene:
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In this scene, Hughie is mentioning there's a lot of people inside Herogasm and here we get Ben's reaction to Hughie saying that. Then he tells Hughie as long as the people stay out of his way they should be fine. But again, watch how he says it, his expression, focus on his tone, his body movement. He clearly is not happy that Hughie says this (it literally is a continuation from the hotel room scene) and again has that subtle threat vibe, even with Butcher standing there (because let's face it, to him, even with temp V, Butcher is no threat). And of course, we all know the slap scene and the punch scene that happens later. Not only does Hughie get switched out for Ryan later on who Butcher ends up protecting from Soldier Boy, but it all plays out beautifully as all of the connections, overt and subtle, unfold throughout the season.
But back to Jensen's performance. There is so much to appreciate in how he fully embodied this character. And that's not saying it through an AA haze of "omg he's so hawt!" or "omg did you see his ass?" That's appreciating the amount of work that he put into this role when the cameras started rolling. He literally became Soldier Boy and he embodied him even outside of the suit.
As an actor, Jensen is very nuanced. He consistently adds in these little things that help make the character even more multi-dimensional than what is written on the page or what is called for int he scene and how it's blocked. This is why there is a certain small group of people on here that repeatedly talk about Jacting Joices, it's not just related to Supernatural or Destiel or Dean. It's about Jensen as an actor, as a performer, and how much he actually pours into these characters he plays. Whether it be the way he moves (or walks), or the expressions he uses, his eyes (yep, he does that too, see above), with his hands, even down to the way he delivers a line. All actors do this in their own way obviously, lean into physicality as well as their performance, but he definitely has his own unique style that I just don't see anyone else replicating. I think there's a reason so many people say no one else could have played Dean the way he could have for example. And if you watch his characters, really watch them, you'll see what he does each and every time. Even smaller characters like Jason from Smallville or Tom from My Bloody Valentine or Alec from Dark Angel. It's all right there on the screen.
So I guess my whole long point is I don't get why antis rip him apart when it comes to this role of Soldier Boy (other than being antis I guess) or say he can't act or that has no idea how to properly analyze his character because he actually did put a ton of work into this specific character (as well as all the others he's done) and you can clearly see it as you watch his scenes in the show. While I wish we could have seen Homelander and Soldier Boy go at it a bit more, and see Soldier Boy truly unleash that Alpha-ness of being the original Supe like had been talked about in promotions and interviews, it doesn't diminish that this character was fascinating and he brought it to life from the script in a way that complemented his own unique style as a performer.
tl;dr Jensen crushed Soldier Boy and Ben (yes, two different characters to embody actually) and I cannot wait to see more of him in any future Boys-related visual story telling, on the show or others.
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tickle-bugs · 2 months
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Stupid in Love
Summary: Nick Miller is completely, 100% normal about all things Jessica Day. Including her smile, her laugh--ah, fuck. He's doomed. NickJess ft. pining!Nick
Anon: I just saw you write for New Girl! I am in my yearly rewatch of the show so I am so happy you write for it! Maybe the loft gang and CeCe can be playing a game of true American and somehow during the game it comes out that Jess is incredibly ticklish. Everyone is too focused on the game to use it to their advantage at the moment, but nick remembers and maybe later when him and Jess are together, he decided to test his new found knowledge and see just how ticklish Jess really is.
While this isn’t set during a particular episode, I was thinking HEAVILY about s2 ep15, Cooler. One of the greatest episodes of the whole show, hands down. I just wanted to write pining Nick tbh.
True American is the best goddamn game ever invented. It defines a man at his core level. Everything that’s ever mattered to Nick is on the line in this game. His dignity, his pride, his dignity…
He honestly can’t remember what they’re playing for. Something involving the sink. Or a drink? Unclear, but irrelevant. Nick is the king of an aluminum can palace and his citizens will thrive under his leadership. This is his birthright. 
They’re playing True American: Catan Edition tonight. Each player defends their own small nations and attempts to crush the others, throwing their leaders to the molten lava below. It’s the smartest thing Winston’s ever come up with. 
“Duel for my amusement,” Nick slurs, waving his paper towel roll scepter around. The cardboard crown on his head slips down over his eyes. Cece blows a raspberry at him. He lobs a balled-up piece of paper at her. 
Jess plays a fanfare into her backup kazoo—Schmidt threw away her main one—and draws angry eyebrows onto the smiley face of her country’s flag. A declaration of war. 
Sober Jess is all for political progress and human rights, but Drunk Jess? Maniacal, power-hungry, and so very hot.
Focus, Miller. 
“Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate?” Jess climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and puts a colander on her head. A warrior’s helm. Nick smiles at her. 
In their corner of the living room, Winston and Schmidt whisper furiously. At some point in the last hour, Winston had ascended to Grand Advisor of Schmidt’s Creek. Schmidt had lost the ability to speak after can number two, when Cece had flirted him out of all of his natural resources and a third of his land. Nick had been trying to think of how to poach Winston to Nicklandia, but he couldn’t think of a plan that didn’t involve saying ‘please’ until he passed out. 
“Schmidt’s Creek will not challenge today!” Winston crushes his beer can against Schmidt’s forehead. Schmidt doesn’t even blink.
“Ruth Gader Binsburg! I challenge your weird little colony, Jess,” Cece shouts, messily hopping onto the chair next to Jess. They start some combination of swatting at each other and clutching on for dear life. Schmidt looks up at Cece like a drunk, lovesick puppy. Nick rolls his eyes.
Thank god he doesn’t look like that.
Does he look like that?
Shit. He’s missing the game. 
“Yeah? Guess what��” Jess knocks her knuckles against the colander helmet, winces, and then points at Cece— “I’m the Queen of England, bitch.” 
Nick’s not sure what’s elapsed in the apparently three years since he was last paying attention, but he knows by the way that Cece gasps that someone’s dying on the living room and/or kitchen floor tonight. Jess cackles and puts her hands on her hips. They start yelling, but even if they’re saying real human words, which he’s pretty sure they’re not, he’s not processing it. Jess looks so stupid in that little holey hat—someone should invent a word for that thing—and she’s adorable. 
Nick leans his cheek on his palm and smiles wider. Does she know her nose scrunches when she’s annoyed? 
Nick leans a little too far and loses his balance. Half of his aluminum fortress tumbles down. When he looks back up, Jess and Cece haven’t budged. Or blinked. Cece squints at Jess and it’s clear the conversation has ascended to psychic levels that even Drunk Nick can’t access. He tries though. Mostly gives himself a headache. 
Something in their eye conversation must shift, because Cece gets this look on her face. Like pure, concentrated mischief. The aura off of her is so powerful that everyone scoots back a bit. Cece starts stretching and cracking her knuckles. 
“Waitwaitwait, Cece, you don’t have to do this.” Jess holds her hands up in immediate surrender, but she’s smiling hard enough to brighten the room. A little nervous giggle picks up in the back of her throat and she starts to turn pinker than the boxed rosé that forms her section of the living room. 
“Oh, but I do. Surrender. Now.” Cece points to the floor. Which is lava. Cruel way to go. 
Jess looks at her best friend with the kind of profound resignation only possible when piss drunk. She sighs deeply, staring at the floor…
And then launches herself at Cece with a war cry. 
Cece doesn’t even flinch. She catches Jess, smirks, and starts tickling her sides with vicious precision. Jess lets out a giggly shriek and crumples, sinking right down into the lava. The colander tumbles off of her head and rolls into Nick’s fortress. 
The sound worms itself into Nick’s brain, taking up residence alongside all the other little Jess things that drive him nuts. It distracts him hard enough that by the time Winston arises as Supreme Leader of the Loft, Nick can’t even trace the path of his defeat. 
………
Even when sobriety beats them over the head the next morning, Nick can remember nothing but the sweet music of Jess’s laugh. And the shape of her smile. 
God he’s hopeless. 
The slow march of the week brings some relief in the sense that a) Nick remembers that he really doesn’t do the whole ‘feelings’ thing and b) alcohol makes anyone look like an angel walking the earth. He is a grown ass man and Jess is an annoying little craft goblin. He can be normal. She’s normal. No need to get worked up over her.
“You look like Mr. Rogers’s grumpy cousin.” Jess snickers, fiddling with the sleeve of Nick’s hideous cardigan. 
“You done? You finished?” He pulls his sleeve away from her. It’s really Schmidt’s, which she very well knows. Nick’s only wearing it because Schmidt’s being weird about Cece again, and the only way to survive that is to bend to his will. Schmidt’s already dehydrated himself twice this week trying to show off his muscles more, Nick doesn’t want to add to that by making the guy cry. He’d never stop.
Jess, however, doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of this manly sacrifice. She’s too busy laughing at him. 
“Mmmm, no, I don’t think I am. You look like a Muppet.” She pinches his cheek. He rolls his eyes. 
“Well, that’s just a compliment.” 
“No, no. You look like the bird. The bird with the eyebrows—“ Jess pauses as her giggles overtake her— “You look like Sam the Eagle.” 
Jess folds over into his shoulder with laughter and smacks his chest. The warmth of it almost distracts him from the comment. 
Almost. 
“Yeah, laugh it up, Jess. C’mere—“ He drags her across the couch by the ankle and latches onto her sides. She makes that adorable sound again, that giggly shriek, and flails like a worm on a hook. She tries to push his face away. He swats her hands aside like it’s nothing. When reaches for him again—futile, really—he snatches her wrists in one hand, pins them down, and tickles with the other. 
Her whole face burns. He chooses to ignore it for both of their sakes. 
“Let me know when you’re ready to apologize. Take your time.” He does a little pinchy thing with his fingers and Jess lets out a high-pitched mess of syllables. She throws her head back and cackles, arching up into him. 
“Hmm, yeah, see none of that sounded like ‘You’re the best, Nick Miller’. Try again.” He pokes all over her torso, fast and wild. He lets go of her and adds his other hand into the mix. Every time she tries to talk, he speeds up, making her laugh at his silliness along with his hands. She kicks her legs and lets out a little giggly growl. Nick smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. 
“Nick!” She grabs his wrists but doesn’t stop him. His stomach flips. She’s so overwhelming. 
“That’s my name.” He skitters his fingers up her ribs to distract himself from the lump in his throat. 
Jess flails and nearly takes them both off the couch and into the next life. Nick catches himself before he collapses on top of her, but it puts their faces mere inches apart. The space of a breath. He can see the faint freckles across her nose, all brought forth by the pink flush down her cheeks and neck. As she catches her breath, lips parted, her laughter simmers low in her chest. He brushes her hair out of her face. His hand lingers on her cheek. 
Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. Does she know that? 
Nick gets the deep, burning urge to kiss her senseless. To download all these embarrassing, vulnerable thoughts from his brain to hers. To show her how deep this goes. To drink of her like the wine at restaurants he can never afford. 
No. Not like this. She deserves better than this.
Than him.
He starts to pull away, awkwardly clearing his throat. Jess surges forward and Nick’s stupid little monkey brain gleefully claps its hands together, shouting this is it! It’s happening! Nick’s brain activity screeches to a halt. He stares at her mouth and freezes. 
Jess flips them over and starts tickling his ears like some kind of insane supervillain. 
“No! Jessica!” He turtles and attempts to fling himself to safety. All he accomplishes is hanging off the back of the couch, leaving his knees in reach of Jess’s evil nails—
One day he will be smart about Jessica Day, but he concedes that it won’t be today. But as she destroys him and Schmidt’s stupid, hopefully inexpensive cardigan, he secretly hopes the day never arrives. 
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polyklok · 7 months
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Movies I think Dethklok members would really like
No this is not based on anything I’m just in a mood™ rn
Nathan Explosion
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Mad God
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So, no, I did not have any ounce of an idea of what this movie was about when I originally watched it, and I’m still not 100% sure tbh but an hour and a half of these pure vibes would totally be up Nathan’s alley. The post-apocalyptic setting, all the gore, the details of the various monsters, and I think he would just really appreciate it from an artist’s standpoint as well. This movie would just resonate with him, even if he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what was going on the whole time.
Mary and Max
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I’m, personally, a bit on-the-fence about this movie, but it is undeniably sweet and I headcanon Nate to be on the spectrum so 🤷
This would be, like, his guilty pleasure film. The movie he knows is for kids and is totally not brutal but he loves it anyway. The, “I do not feel disabled, defective, or a need to be cured” really hits for him every single time. He rewatches it at least once every few months, especially when he’s in some sort of emotional slump.
Mandy
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Another one that just like, like, big Nathan energy, you know? He just seems like a guy to really love loose plots with trippy visuals and strong emotions attached to them. Also, this movie is so completely badass, it is certified metal in his book. He also finds the story incredibly tragic; having the love of your life stripped away from you in such circumstances really tugs at his heartstrings, but in a way that gets him pumped up rather than sad. This is probably his go-to when people ask, “what’s your favorite movie?”
Pickles the Drummer
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Son in Law
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Okay this is my guilty pleasure movie. I usually don’t like stoner-comedy from the 90s, but this movie hits different. Maybe I just find Crawl hot. Anyway, I’m projecting that onto Pickles. He honestly probably finds a lot of crappy comedies to be peak film, and this is no exception. Pauly Shore pretending to be a country boy for a whole movie? Hells yeah. Pickles would watch while high off his mind, laughing his butt off and going to town on some cheez-its or something. And you know what? He deserves it.
Opal
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I’m counting short films because I feel like Opal is the movie for Pickles. He’d watch it on a whim, because these are not usually the types of things he enjoys, and then he’d in tears over the emotional rollercoaster he did not agree to go on. Like, he grew up in a neglective household with authority figures that were overly-selfish and projected their own problems onto the youngest one in the house, to which he had to hide within his own brain more often than not just to properly function. And then he just…watched it happen all again in the hypnotic style of Jack Stauber. The Mom’s song had him in gasping tears for a while, the way you get when a movie somehow perfectly captures your own trauma right in front of you. And the ending??? Ugh. Go watch Opal, guys, it’s on YouTube.
Nathan and Pickles both get very emotional about certain stop-motion films, isn’t that crazy?
House
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Thank you to Lucy for this Letterbox review that I think he would write
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Anyway-
This movie is actually so insane. It’s not scary in a horror-movie way, like it meant to be, it’s scary as in ‘What the hell is happening and why do I understand it?’ Pickles doesn’t like most traditional horror films, as the long, quiet suspense bores him and the sudden jumpscares freak him the hell out way more than they should. But he loves the campy-wacko-type horror that they were apparently making in 70s Japan. It’s just scary enough to get his heart pumping, but the pure silliness of it all overrides that, getting him in a giddy mood and excited to see what happens next.
(No I am not done but tumblr won’t let me add more pictures)
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I Am All In Rewatch - Episode 1x15
I thought he lived above the diner, why was he walking in the early morning and opening up the place?...You know, maybe  it was an early morning walk...Maybe he was coming from Lorelai's house where he was in the bushes... I thought it worked for the scene for sure...Why is he walking on down the boulevard, keys swinging his keys? [Am I messing this up or was there a scene where you were waiting for her?] At night? [Yeah, outside your own diner.] Yeah, what's that about?  That's very dramatic..becuase it gave me the opportunity to act this finality of that moment and sort of go in and give up and lock the door. So that was more important than nosy continuity annoyers. You know... [And how did you feel when you realize she painted the whole place?] He had already figured out that they had done the deed right. She's already told him that.[In not such a direct way. But that was when she was in the pajamas.] He put two and two together. That's a that's a tough one. I mean, yeah, I recall really struggling with it because it's like, and you know, I mean, you talk about being at the bottom of of your feelings, there in a situation. Mean, good God, how devastating that you know he came back and they slept together and he knew it, and it's just...[Yeah, it's rough because it was right as Luke and Lorelai were having that that moment] And then and then he comes in. It's painted or halfway or three quarters painted, and it's maybe all done.... Yeah, I had to play all that stuff. So it's like grief and devastation to acceptance to.. It's like I had to go through the five stages, but it's like in reverse, like, hey, there's there's there's still some hope here, I mean, poor guy...But now he's got to deal with the fact that she she went there with him, you know, so there's that the residual effects of that that are you known, have to clean up that mess because that's going to psychologically be I mean, it's devastating. It'll take a while to get back to you know. Now now I think it puts her on different footing where it's like, okay, you know, this train was going in in the right direction and it stopped and now it's going backwards, and maybe it's the train is taken out of service using a train analogy. I swear I won't use a tunnel. There won't be a tunnel on this analogy. [She says when she's there in the pajamas, we had a date, and Luke says, it wasn't a date, it was it was just a thing.] He's he's downplaying it already. It wasn't ... The walls going up. ...And I also think he's it's like, you know, he's judging. He's being hard on himself too, because like, guy, get in the fight, get in there and get with her, close the deal. What do you know she's moving fast with like all these guys, get in there, you know, be meaningful in her life, be impactful. So it's like it's it's it's yeah, I'm sure he's hurt, but it's I think it's really a wake up call. It's like, this is life and it's moving a little faster. And she's from Hartford and she's a country club chick and you know she wants more than I have. You know that I have to offer maybe, so it's like, get in there and fight for her. -Scott
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I only got into true detective about a month ago and I'm happy to find people in the same boat; if you don't mind could you share some of the deeper thoughts you've had about the show? Your interpretations/headcanons?
Fuck yes I can, goddamn I'm so excited
First, I think the first and fourth seasons are perfect reflections of one another. If you haven't watched S4, many apologies for spoilers. I highly suggest sucking it through a straw.
I’ve been reading the book Dancing in the Flames: The Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Consciousness by Marion Woodman and Elinor Dickson
In which, the philosophical concepts of self and universal consciousness are analyzed through the framework of the divine masculine and divine feminine. I believe this plays into the themes of both Season 1 and Season 4 of True Detective.
Nic Pizzolatto has expressed that Marty and Rust were written as men he could easily see himself becoming (How I Wrote True Detective - Behind the Curtain, particularly his statement at 3:20), which in essence, is an exploration of how masculinity manifests in different contexts. These are men whose flaws render them incapable of living 'normal' lives, yet enable them to demonstrate bravery in situations where most would not.
There is a lot of gendered discourse around Season 4 that I won't get into. Ultimately, I think it does a wonderful job of presenting the flip-side of the unbalanced masculinity in Season 1 by showing us unbalanced femininity. The women centered in Night Country are imperfect; they struggle with close relationships, with demonstrating faithfulness in relationships, with maternalistic nurturing, with regard for victims, etc.
So, both seasons together really solidified my understanding of the overall story. I'll be using balance, gender, time, and death as the themes here.
There are a few lines in Dancing in the Flames that stuck out to me:
“The psyche, as a self-regulating system, yin and yang in perfect balance, is a vision that historically has yet to be realized. […] In history, as in marriage, or in the individual, when a balance becomes stagnant, one or other of the energies moves out to new adventures. The spurt forces the complimentary energy to move also, until a new balance is found. So the spiral moves.”
It's kind of funny that I picked up this book right after my second rewatch of season 4. I'm big on synchronicities, just seeing shit that plainly ain't there. But here we go,
The imagery presented in Season 1 of True Detective appears to be inspired by some iteration of Cernunnos, a Celtic God of fertility, power, & blessings/weath; "god of beasts and wild places." Further, Cernunnos is the God of the Winter Solstice; the Dark Months (re: the significance of Season 4 Executive producer Mari-Jo Winkler saying, “Let’s look at season one of ‘True Detective.’ Hot, sweaty, male. We wanted to do [the] complete opposite. Dark, Ice, Cold.” in the True Detective: Night Country Podcast). "Cernunnos is the antlered god, part man and part stag. He is born on the darkest day of the year, winter solstice, and marries the goddess of spring, Beltane. About six months later, on summer solstice, he dies.
Among pagans, he is considered the god of fertility, animals, and wealth, and the underworld—sometimes he carries a purse filled with coin, for wealth. This connection to wealth and gold coins is found in the myth about Pluto (Hades), the god of the underworld, from which all wealth comes. Indeed abundance comes from what is deep in the earth and deep in our own psyche.
He is born on winter solstice and dies on summer solstice. This suggests his association with the rise of energy, augmentation, the increasing of light, lengthening of the day and peak experiences. He is a god associated with the potency and power of male sexuality, but not its completeness. Falling on the ground, broken, limp, is just as important an experience of the male psyche as standing erect. Also, the fact that he dies at the peak of light, the second half of the seasonal cycle brings, means that he does not hold the introspective qualities that the harvest brings and the completion of the diminishing of light.
Perhaps Cernunnos is balanced somewhat by his marriage to the goddess of Beltane. She is celebrated in a time when blessing comes from rubbing yourself with the dew of early May morning to soak in the blessing of Spring. Helen Chantler, the designer of our company, remembers watching the horned man in the forest on her BBC television growing up. It was an image that conveyed guardianship and the protector of the forest. Yet this image of the antlered man, so powerfully associated with Celtic myth and lore, has been widely depicted and enacted across indigenous cultures for thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands of years. Iconography of an antlered man, standing, have been found in French Paleolithic cave paintings" (reference).
Full disclosure, I am not learned in Celtic myth or any such topic. I don't know if this was the intended reference material for Season 1's Big Bad Spookiness, but I think thematically, this explains the unexplained in both S1 and S2.
I randomly picked up this book I hadn't yet read, which I bought at random in a used bookstore probably 5 years ago, flipped through, and landed on this picture.
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Synchronicities dawg.
Woodman and Dickson have this to say:
"This is Cernunnos, Lord of the Animals. It is Shiva, or Dionysus archetypal energies long repressed by Christianity. Repression turned the Horned God into the Horned Devil, the root of all evil. [...] The Horned Devil is energy that is so repressed and cut off from the earth that it is best symbolized by Mephistopheles, the light and airy creature that floats above the earth. The Horned Devil is the disembodied spirit that manipulates, usurping situations for the gratification of its instinctual desires for domination-- sexual or otherwise. The Horned God, as Gary Lingen points out '...is a positive model for male power--free from the patriarchy and all other authoritative models--as he grows and passes through his changes during the wheel of the year, he remains in relationship to and not separate from the prime life and nurturing force--the Goddess.'
The Horned God, moreover, is an archetypal figure quite unlike most masculine images as they appear in culture. He is difficult to understand because he does not fit into any of the expected stereotypes, neither those of the "macho" male nor the reverse-images of those who deliberately seek effeminacy. He is gentle, tender and comforting, but he is also the Hunter. He is the Dying God--but his death is always in service of the life force. He is untamed sexuality--but sexuality as a deep, holy, connecting power. He is the power of feeling, and the image of what men could be if they were liberated from the constraints of patriarchal culture."
It's possible that Pizzolatto merely modeled the Big Bad Spooky Scary in Season 1 with paganistic imagery for fearmongering purposes, but I choose to believe that Childress, the Tuttles, and unnamed counterparts were worshippers of some bastardized version of Cernunnos.
It is indicated many times in both S1 and S2 that symbology associated with the murders is 'old', 'archaic', and looks like cave drawings. I believe the nature of the belief system associated with the Big Bad is transactional, given that it precedes Semitic religions.
What do you pray for when your primary goal is to live another day? You pray for abundant harvest, you pray for fertility, you pray for the sun to return.
What do you pray for when society becomes more collective? You pray for a bigger hut than the next guy, you pray for blessings.
What do you pray for when buildings scrape the sky? You pray for wealth, you pray for power.
I think the Tuttles and their counterparts belonged to a small group of worshippers who retained archaic beliefs and practices, which they attributed to the wealth or power their group amassed. Thus, they continued worshipping.
However, we only see the masculine aspects of this worship in Season 1. We see the vulnerable (women and children) victimized by physically and/or socially powerful men. We see this vulnerability overpowered through ritualistic abuses and murders, which demonstrates that the Big Bad have devolved to, or perhaps have always been, negligent of the inherent role of the divine feminine (Beltane, in this case, as the counterpart to Cernunnos). Thus, the Tuttles represent unbalanced masculinity, where they seek to overpower others in the name of worship. In reality, they are simply indulging in animalistic, individual desires. Truly, they may be neglecting and/or attempting to dominate the divine feminine out of innate fear.
"What is the way to appease the Great Mother, to keep her as Protectress and prevent her wrathful Vengeance? Give her what she demands-- blood! And likewise, invent a precise way to do it-- ritual! Thus, the first great ritual was a ritual of blood sacrifice, offered to the Great Mother-- to Mother Nature-- in a bartered attempt to quench her desire for blood. [...] Blood is indeed bodily life, and if you want to purchase life, you purchase it with blood. So goes paleologic; like magic, it works in partial truths; and like magic, since it is unable to grasp higher perspectives or wider contexts, it arrives at barbaric conclusions." - Marie-Louise Von Franz, Golden Ass of Apuleius: The Liberation of the Feminine in Man
Whatever, I won't get distracted by analyzing the psyche of side character antagonists. I won't! What I'm trying to say is:
They're worshipping an old religion, which requires blood sacrifice. This blood may be literal (murder), or symbolic (sexually abusing the innocent, i.e. symbolic blood of menstruation or deflowering).
As with all things, there is no inherent evil in worship, but this manner of worship represents a stark lack of balance. These are not praying men-- these are men attempting to manipulate nature, life/death, and femininity to their egoistic desires. Thus, they create imbalance.
This imbalance, in True Detective, is a microcosm representing greater imbalances of energy. Imbalance in society, in the universe, and in individuals. We are shown this lack of balance through complex characters.
Two characters, specifically, show us the energy required to correct universal balance; Rustin Cohle and Evangeline Siqiññaatchiaq Navarro.
I also won't get into the Messiah archetypes of these characters. I won't (I probably will).
This fucking long form analysis is going to be a bitch to read and is also a bitch to write, I'm struggling to collect my thoughts well enough to not communicate like we're playing Word Associations.
Okay. So. Rust = Divine Masculine. Evangeline = Divine Feminine. Hold onto that for later.
In the Southern states of America, such as Louisiana where the Tuttles have historical roots, power and wealth are generally understood as God’s Blessings. The Christian God. Which explains why the Tuttles used Christianity as a mask for their true beliefs and practices. Additionally, the immutable power of organized religion allowed the Tuttles and their associates access to vulnerable individuals to prey upon.
While the Tuttles practiced their underlying beliefs in secret, I believe Errol Childress’s murder of Dora Lange indicated his sentiments of rejection from his bloodline. Where the proper Tuttles secured social and financial power, Errol was essentially a grunt, despite enabling and participating in the ritualistic abuse and murder. He might have developed a coping mechanism of believing himself a profit. Frustrated that in the ‘real world’ the power and virility he exercised in private was not respected, he made a ‘show’ of Dora Lange’s murder. This could have been motivated by the following: - A rejection of the Tuttles secretiveness. We should be proud of our practices. Look, we’re untouchable. I won’t live in the shadows
A warning or punishment of the Tuttles. By displaying his practices proudly through Dora Lange’s presentation, Errol Childress places the Tuttles at risk for exposure. 
A personal demonstration of elevated dedication to his ‘god’, i.e., an attempt to prove he is more faithful than those who practice in secret. Errol was showing the world his power. 
I believe the Tuttle’s practice of murdering and abusing innocents in the name of a, conceivably, pagan god, is due to a bastardized interpretation of the god’s power and purpose. If we consider that Cernunnos alone is the divine masculine, incomplete/imbalanced without the feminine counterpart, we see the space where men may lean into this lack of balance as an opportunity to enforce patriarchal dominance over the divine feminine. By abusing the divine feminine (women and children), the interpretation of Cernunnos becomes a rat-race of man’s most basic pursuits; power, wealth, and death. They lord over the divine feminine by sacrificing its counterparts (women and children) to Cernunnos. In a patriarchal interpretation (cisgender, heterosexual) of nature, men cannot create as women can, so the most they can achieve in the way of god power is taking life. 
Then comes the spiral. In the first season, it appeared to be representative of the Nietzschean circular time theme. Given the events of Season 4 as a continuation of the spiral imagery, I have deduced that the S1 spiral is another perversion of old beliefs that the Tuttles have bastardized.
Rather than being a symbol of Cernunnos (real quick: peep Cernunnos vs. Carcosa?? 'He who eats time?' and absolutely chooooke on this interpretation) I believe the spiral represents his ‘wife’ or divine feminine counterpart– Spring. Or rather, Life. And thus, She is Time itself. The Tuttles pray to something that, again, EATS TIME. I'm sorry I keep saying this, but they only worship half of nature. It's a perversion. It's wrong. It's empty. S4 gives us the other half of the story.
In Season 4, the supernatural force, or ‘god’ is referred to with feminine pronouns: ‘She is awake, she is coming, she is here’. More on this later, but I think the spiral represents a larger concept than Cernunnos/Carcosa; Balance. Eternity. The Universe. I believed initially that the spiral was jagged, as opposed to the ‘perfect’ golden ratio, because it would have been carved or drawn with rudimentary objects by prehistoric humans. Looking at the galaxy in which earth exists (and others like it)-- I mean :/ I'm no science guy, but... come on now.
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(cr. NASA / STScI)
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(cr. Gabriel Pérez Díaz, SMM (IAC).)
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(cr. Fibbonacci.com)
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COME ON NOW.
Back to Cernunnos, he is the god of Darkness, and dies when Spring comes. However, he and his divine feminine counterpart never cease existing. They are married; opposite sides of a coin, constantly flipping; inextricably bonded. They are the same thing—and separate—and the same; flat time. (Side note: also found out the universe itself is 'flat' to our perception. I'm absolutely wrecked by this)
As Rust says, “Time created Death to grow the things it would kill.” So, from hereon, I will refer to Cernunnos’s counterpart, represented by the spiral symbol, as Time.
She is the spring, where life grows. In Season 4, we may assume that she eats in the winter. Despite the spooky Big Bad, overcoming evil, vibe of Season 4, it’s important to note that there is no inherent good or evil in the universe. There's just balance. While Navarro refers to the supernatural force as a “curse” that takes her people one by one, we must acknowledge that Death is the certainty of Life. Both states are suspended within time. Circular. Cyclical. Spinning. A spiral.
Ennis is a land of extremes, where Time and Existence appear to be a more ancient/raw form (prehistoric ice and such, significance of magnetic poles, idk I'm not a science guy).
As Time’s presence in Ennis is generally acknowledged by the indigenous people, it could stand that the descendants of those who existed on this land in prehistoric times would have a more innate connection to Time. On that land, where Time has more power, occurrences such as “the dead don’t stay dead” implicates that the laws of humanity are bent in favor of the unknowable reality of time. 
Whereas the Tuttle’s represent unbalanced patriarchal masculinity, i.e., acknowledging ‘old gods’ and worshiping them for self-serving gain, demonstrated by their social powers and abuses– the Iñupiaq people exhibit instinctual balance and reverence for the old ways.
The Tuttles and counterparts mark victims with the spiral, almost as if to attract the acknowledgement of their god, whereas the Iñupiaq people mark the spiral as a warning of her presence. It is stated that ‘she’ exists where the ice is thin over the sea. To me, this indicates that ‘she’ is somewhat synonymous with the sea, or the ground beneath it, as, in the prehistoric time (where her power would be more observable) the water level would've been lower (idk, I'm not a science guy). Basically, I think ‘she is awake’ indicates that she has gone dormant/is hibernating under the ice.
Thus, Time calls the Iñupiaq to areas of thin ice in order to ‘eat’ them. This practice is representative of a balance. She is existence in perfect balance. She is life and death. In her presence, time becomes nonlinear (i.e., the visions experienced by the characters in S4). Time becomes a flat circle.
The Tuttles presence in Ennis via the mine has disrupted the circle. The softening of permafrost due to the mine's pollution has both awoken her, and disrupted the balance of her domain. Life and Death. Rather than taking her justified ‘fill’ of the dead, pollution has caused an unnatural rise in deaths, exampled by the stillbirths. The Iñupiaq stillbirths represent the inherent interruption of natural course. Thus, she is not just awoken, but angered. She's PISSED.
This explains why the events in Season 4 unfold as they do. In the last episode, an Iñupiaq auntie explains that ‘she (Time)’ was responsible for taking the Tsalal men or releasing them. She chose to take them, and ‘eat their fucking dreams’.
This statement reminded me of the theme of dreaming in Season 1. A theoretical physicist, Fred Alan Wolf, claims that “dreaming is vital to our survival as a species and a necessary ‘learning laboratory’ wherein the self and the universe evolve. In brief, matter evolves through dreams.” In the book Dancing in the Flames: The Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Divine Consciousness, “the unknowable mystery we sometimes call God” can only be understood through finding individual and communal balance, which is historically and presently impossible due to patriarchal systems.
The significance of this, I think, is the overarching theme in both seasons: Time as an insurmountable force that weighs on the characters. Past, present, future are flattened and defined by suffering. We see the mostly faceless antagonists attempt to gain unnatural power over time– in Season 1, the Tuttles (and their counterparts) actions implicate a desire of procuring power and wealth through sacrificing innocent youth (balanced time), and in Season 4, they are searching for a microorganism that could provide insight into immortality, or at least further their material wealth and power– ultimately creating the imbalance of essential, unknowable truths: Time, Life, Death, and Dreaming. We also see the protagonists struggle under the weight of Time in a more intimate, consumable capacity.
The imbalance of energies is a human fault. This human fault, likely, has no true power in the universe. It is simply a disruptor, which will ultimately be self-corrected, as “the spiral moves.”
We see this correction in the form of an unlikely savior. In Season 1, this is Rust. In season 4, this is Navarro. They are both plagued with an undefined but obviously overwhelming burden of Time, and an innate connection to the unknowable.
While neither understands how or why, they have been called to a life which seems to deny human nature. Isolation, reluctant power (being a fuckin cop), and the responsibility of bearing witness to the soul-crushing examples of human failure. However, their actions and insight are ultimately the antithesis of the antagonists perversions of Life and Death. Both Rust and Navarro, though somewhat unwillingly, are called on to correct Time.
Their circular patterns become enlightened. They prevail. They balance the divine masculine and divine feminine.
I think this is most apparent in Navarro’s character arc. Particularly her statements, and the many examples of her being ‘called’ by Time. Her displacement from the community of people who share her blood, and thus her connection to the land, is significant because it has potentially inspired her to become a protector. With the social power of law enforcement, and the dual-perspective of those who perpetuate disbalance of time (cops, who ultimately are tools for high-level antagonists like the Tuttles), and those who keep it (the indigenous people), she is the perfect blend of energies to correct the balance. I think she was beckoned back to the land by Time specifically, (evidenced by her visions, like “listen”), with divine purpose. Her Inupiaq name meaning the sun’s return from darkness in itself is evidence of that. Her compassion for Annie K. has greater implications on the story than our understanding of justice. 
If she was called to the land by Time, presented with the murder of Annie K. as motivation to expose Tsalal, thus exposing the mine, and ultimately the Tuttles, Navarro restores the balance of Life and Death, and ultimately Time, to the land. Her personal journey reflects the initial disbalance, the unknowable forces at play, and ultimately the correction of both. She encompasses universal truths.
God calls from places where the ice is thin.
God is talking to Evangeline directly.
In the spiritual statements that tell Evangeline to “listen”, as well as the many visions in which an individual (conceivably possessed by spiritual forces) points at her, God orders her to bear witness, which is also the purpose that Rust Cohle assigned to his existence in Season 1.
Like Moses and the burning FUCKING bush, Evangeline is plagued with visions; and is called to carry the burden of guiding others into the light. 
As Rust said in the first season, “it’s the oldest story there is. Light vs. Dark” and “if you ask me, light is winning.”
Okay, that's all I have for right now. Sorry for using this as my excuse to go apeshit in the way I've been meaning to for weeks. If you'd like specific character headcanons or anything, let me know! Rust Cohle rents an apartment in my head and it fucking stinks in there.
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slutforsilverfoxes · 2 years
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OH MY GOD can you please write sierra six smut i will literally pay you
Here at the house of slutforsilverfoxes, your pleasure is our payment 🫡
A/N: I am so sorry this took 84 years to write but I hope it lives up to expectations. I rewatched the movie for the third (!) time last night and this man makes me absolutely feral. I hope y'all enjoy 🥰
Tags: @buckysboobs
___
You strolled rather leisurely down the streets of Prague, admiring the orange hues painting the sky from the setting sun, the slight spice of smoke and cannabis pervading your senses and reminding you of home. Or rather, what you once considered home. Did people in your field really have a place they called home?
Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you deftly hopped over the wrought iron fence of your target's overly expensive mansion, making quick work of the hedge maze you had memorized the night before courtesy of aerial recon. You watched from the shadows at the entrance to the maze as, like clockwork, the evening protective detail swooped in to replace the day team. You had told Denny you'd take this op under one condition: the target's wife and child had to be out of the country. Less guards, less collateral. You may have given up your life and body to the CIA, but you would cling to your own perverse sense of morality until your dying breath.
Even if you were still tying up loose ends from the shitstorm Denny and Suzanne had let wreak havoc across Europe over a year ago.
Approaching the measly crew guarding the maze under the cloak of falling night, you slipped your trusty weapon from its holster, screwed on the silencer, and fired two shots within the span of mere seconds, the sound of thudding bodies overlapping as the guards dropped lifelessly to the pristinely trimmed grass. Confident that the coast was clear and the rest of the protective detail were at their stations inside the mansion, you glided across the expansive yard, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the cursive letter mowed into the lawn. You would never grow used to the hubris of men like this target, who wanted to remain quiet oligarchs but lived in the biggest houses with the most ostentatious gardens and obnoxious (read: ugly) artwork and enough money to brand their grass with the first letter of their last names.
Perhaps you were bitter, or perhaps they were compensating. Creeping along the exterior of the house, you decided both scenarios were equally likely.
A curse fell from your lips as the lights went out, cloaking you in complete darkness. Snagging the windowsill above you, you pulled yourself up to see that the interior lights were out as well, save for a measly glow in the nearby hallway presumably powered by a generator. You could hear shouting in the distance, your target’s security detail assessing the impending threat and gathering to protect the man who signed their paychecks.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end alerting you to a presence at your six. Either this person was shit at their job or they were a friendly. Letting your body drop to the ground as you whipped around, you hissed out, "Who are you?," gun trained on the spot dead center between a pair of striking eyes that, had you not been working an op, would’ve stolen the very breath from your lungs.
"That’s a loaded question. Who are any of us real-"
The man merely blinked as a bullet whizzed by his ear. Glancing at the chunk of wall gouged out inches from his face and then back at you, the ghost of a smirk flitted past his features. "So I should change our relationship status to It’s Complicated I take it."
"It’s only fair for me to inform you that I don’t give second chances. Who are you?"
"Consider me the cavalry. I support you on this op, you get the collar, take the credit, we never see each other again. Job well done by all parties considered."
You cocked your head to one side, your gun mimicking the angle. "You’re Sierra." It was a statement, not a question.
"Once upon a time," he conceded nonchalantly. Realization dawned on you and your eyes flashed with recognition. Sierra Six. The silent assassin. The Gray Man. Every agent had heard whispers of his infamy despite the fact that the Sierra program, let alone the man standing before you in the flesh, simply did not exist.
"They let you back in this city after the international stunt you pulled last time?" you asked wryly, one eyebrow raised.
"You think they know I’m here? You wound me." He had an easy way about him that was equal parts unsettling, given your shared line of work and his supposed nonexistence, and incredibly attractive. "So now that we've been acquainted-"
"Hardly," you interjected with a slight smirk of your own.
"-what's your plan to breach, Agent Y/L/N?"
"You’ve done your homework," you nodded appreciatively, your playful banter coming to a dead halt as his words soberly reminded you of the task at hand: assassinate the target, collect the drive, and eliminate anyone standing in the way of priorities one and two.
You explained the layout of the mansion to him, detailing the number of entries and exits, hidden corridors, and possible ambush sites. Deciding that you would begin in the east wing and gradually make your way across the mansion, Six eased his magazine into his semi-automatic with a satisfying click as you slid your knife out to play.
The two of you approached the nearest entryway, your back to his as he expertly picked the lock. The door swung open with a soft creak and you tapped his shoulder twice to signal you were ready to breach. "I’ve got your six," you muttered, trying and failing to hide your cheeky tone.
He threw a look over his shoulder and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face at his silent confirmation of your earlier deduction before you followed him down the hall, light on your feet.
You moved in a silent dance, perfectly choreographed without having to so much as make eye contact, his movements sharp, yours fluid, his bullets flying, your knife singing. It was complementary and harmonious and downright beautiful how your bodies morphed into a single killing machine. Within minutes, you had reached the opposite end of the villa and effectively incapacitated the entire peripheral security detail. Crossing back into the heart of the building, you flanked the large wooden doors leading to the massive study, your target’s home headquarters and his current hiding spot from the mayhem.
Swiping the flat of your blade across your thigh to remove the evidence of your previous triumphs, you smiled at your impromptu partner. "Ready for round two?"
He shot you a wink in response. "Let’s get loud."
The doors simultaneously flew open with a bang as your feet made contact with the heavy oak. A series of shouts, muzzle flashes, and expertly placed cuts later, your first task was complete.
Nonchalantly stepping over the bodies littering the floor, you asked, "So what inspired you to leave the glorious Cunt Incapacitators Anonymous?" You snapped a picture of your recently departed target for your employers’ confirmation, thumbs flying across the screen to encrypt the image.
Six quirked an eyebrow at you, the corner of his mouth imperceptibly matching its angle in amusement. "You’ve gotta workshop that one, kid."
"You understood what I meant so it’s not that bad," you rolled your eyes. "And don’t dodge the question."
"Palm trees," he answered simply, rifling through paperwork scattered across the desk before you.
You huffed in annoyance at his measured response. "Seriously? Clearly you haven’t retired."
"What is this, Y/L/N, twenty questions?" The rebuke was enough to have your mouth sheepishly snapping shut. "I’ll check his body while you scan the furniture."
"Hey," you grabbed his wrist as he reached for the breast pocket of the target’s suit, the juxtaposition of the rough fabric of his glove and his surprisingly soft skin sending a jolt of electricity through your body, "don’t forget this is my op. You’re the self-proclaimed cavalry."
He stepped away from the body with his arms out in front of him, "We’ll switch then, Your Highness."
You offered a satisfied nod before beginning your thorough search, unfurling pockets, checking for custom made hiding spots, patting down to feel for items tucked away from plain sight and prying eyes.
"Unremarkable on my end," you called out. "Got a fancy pen that’s probably worth more than I have in savings, some mints, and a family picture," you dumped the items on the desk in front of you as you listed them.
"Didn’t peg him for the sentimental type," Six shrugged, popping up from his evidently uneventful search of the drawers. "No false bottoms here, either. Where next, my liege?"
"Oh, shut the fuck up," your eyes rolled on instinct to join your biting comeback, missing the way his jaw ticked in response to your bratty display. Following the deceased’s line of sight to a painting on the wall opposite his desk, a catlike grin spread across your face as you stalked towards the art. "Only one painting in this big ass room? Rookie mistake." You turned back to Six and dramatically swiped at the frame behind you. "Is there a safe? There’s a safe, isn’t there?"
The sliver of moonlight streaming through the window offered you a glimpse of what you presumed to be a visage of respect.
"Don’t be too impressed, I do have three years of this under my belt," you teased, attaching a device to the electronic lock that offered hassle free entry.
"Three years? You’re like, twelve."
"I know you’ve read my dossier," you retorted as you triumphantly pulled the drive from the safe and placed it in a special containment setup with a faraday cage, "and I know you know I’m twenty-five."
"That’s quite the talent, managing to make me feel old in a mere four syllables."
You turned to answer him and felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked up to find his sharp gaze trained on you. With the small bit of light the moon was offering, you could see now that he had several fresh cuts and scrapes dotting his cheeks and chin, a deeper gash on his forehead. Had he come straight from another op to help you? Swoon. Physically shaking your head to keep that train of thought at the station, you let the playful lilt return to your voice, coming off much more grounded than you felt at present. "Well it’s nice to see you can still move, old timer."
You both turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows of your target’s study at the sound of approaching sirens interrupting your banter, faint blue lights dancing across the floor. "I’m guessing getting arrested by the Czech police isn’t covered in your exfil, Y/L/N."
"How astute of you, Six," you snorted, moving to the adjacent bookcase and running your fingers along its shelving for a hidden latch. "Come to think of it, should I still call you that?"
"You get us out of here without the Hansen special of blowing up half the city, you can call me anything you like."
Smiling triumphantly, you tugged on the bookcase and revealed a hidden hallway. "Anything?"
Your eyes widened as a glint of metal whistled past your face into the dark hallway behind you, just shy of the apple of your cheek. Turning, you found your knife- when had he taken it from the strap on your thigh?- embedded in the forehead of the last guard standing whose hands were still raised in a width that you suspected matched that of your neck. "Nearly gave me a haircut there," you joked, bending down to wrench your blade out before returning it to its rightful sheath on your dominant leg.
"Nah," he gently tugged at a strand framing your face, "it’s nice at this length."
A faint blush dusted your cheeks at the unexpected compliment and you were suddenly very grateful that Six had cut the power earlier.
You cleared your throat and stepped into the cramped tunnel, "So revisiting this whole ‘Anything’ concept before we were so rudely interrupted…"
He shrugged easily in response, following you into the dark space before swinging the fake door closed behind you, the inky black darkness swallowing you both immediately and blocking out the heavy footfalls infiltrating the mansion. "What can I say," his smooth voice oozed over your skin like warm honey, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine, "I like a bit of adventure in my life. Don’t you?"
"Six," his pseudonym tumbled from your lips in a whisper. You couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black tunnel, but your every sense was heightened to his presence. His smell. His stature. The power radiating off of him that had the air positively crackling with charged energy, a current flowing between your bodies just daring one of you to act on it.
So you did.
Down there in the dark, the full force of the Czech police mere feet away from you cordoning off the crime scene, you kissed the Sierra Six like you were drowning in an endless ocean and he was beckoning you up to the surface, up to the light. Your hands snaked their way into his blonde locks as his fingers pressed into your hips, backing you up, deftly stepping over the guard’s limbs until you crashed against the crude tunnel wall, his mouth greedily swallowing down your moans.
Feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen and his heady kiss, you reluctantly pulled back to suck some air into your lungs. His forehead pressed against yours, warm breath fanning over your face, arms protectively locked around you. "Can we- Should we- ugh," you groaned softly at your own hesitation. Your body count was more along the lines of murder than sex, and a sudden bout of nerves trapped the words in your mouth until you felt gentle pressure against your hips, spurring you on. "Can we spend the night somewhere, pretend to be normal people for once?"
"Like we didn’t just commit multiple counts of homicide?"
You merely grunted in response, taking his remark to be a rebuff of your offer.
"Hey," he laughed softly, gently removing your dominant hand from his hair and shaking it in his own. "I’m Court." His voice had a harshness to it as he said his name- his real name- aloud for quite possibly the first time in years.
You pressed your lips back against his, your mouths curving upward in twin smiles. Barely pulling away from him, you offered in kind, "Y/N."
———
You leaned leisurely against the doorway of the small hotel bathroom, arms crossed as you drank in the sight of Six-no, Court- shirtless, scrubbing the blood of the day from his palms and underneath his fingernails. You could think of no better word to describe him than beautiful, his blonde locks catching the light just so, his big, broad, purely masculine shoulders tensed with the weight of the day, the muscles in his arms rippling with the repetitive movements, the artwork adorning his upper body, the light smattering of hair along his abs that teased you with the promise of more beauty to unearth just below. He was a brute, an expert killing machine, a wall of pure muscle, yet goosebumps erupted over your skin at the memory of his gentle hands caressing your curves in the darkness during your hidden tryst.
His gaze met yours through the mirror and heat bloomed across your cheeks knowing that you had been caught blatantly ogling his body. But then his eyes scanned from head to toe and back again, systematically assessing your figure, clad in only shorts and a sports bra after your post-mission shower, in the dim hotel light. His lips, still a shade darker than their normal tint from your earlier assault, quirked upwards in a smile- you were even now.
You watched as he plucked his previously discarded shirt from the countertop and ran it under the faucet before wringing it out and bringing it to his face to address his most recent wounds. Pushing yourself off the doorframe, you ran your fingers along the mottled pink flesh on his shoulder, following in their wake with butterfly kisses. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you reached into the shelf beneath the sink and pulled out a fresh towel. His eyes tracked your every move as you draped the fabric over his hand and instructed, "Use this like a civilized human being."
"What part of this," his eyes flitted down to his body decorated with scars and a rainbow of bruises, "says civilized?"
You merely chuckled in response, relenting and tossing the towel aside before hopping up to perch on the sink counter. You slipped his black tee from between his fingers and delicately touched the cloth to the inch-long gash on his forehead as he smiled down at you, amused. "What?" you mumbled, tongue peeking out between your lips as you concentrated intently on cleaning the wound without applying too much pressure.
"I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me like this." His voice was low, almost haunted, and you found yourself wondering which tragic backstory the CIA had plucked him from. Collecting kids from broken homes or prison seemed to be their preferred modus operandi.
"When’s the last time you let them?" you challenged softly, daring to sneak a peek at his stormy grey-blue eyes and finding them already trained on you.
His nimble fingers, roughened by callouses from years of grueling combat, gently wrapped around your wrist, dwarfing your hand in his. He moved your arm from its spot between the two of you, then released your wrist and let his thumb come up to rub over your bottom lip as you splayed your hands across the taut muscles of his back, closing your eyes and trying to memorize the hard planes of his body.
"Court," you breathed out, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Not Six, not Agent, not You’ll Kill Who I Tell You To Kill Because That’s All You’re Good For, but Court. No one had ever said his name like that before.
Your nails gently scraped down the stubble dotting his cheeks and his eyes flew open. "You still with me?"
He nodded almost imperceptibly before surging forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss, his teeth tugging harshly along your bottom lip and eliciting a wanton moan from the very depths of your soul. For the second time that night, your arms wound around his neck to pull him closer to your body, fisting your hands in his hair as you shamelessly rutted against his quickly hardening length. His hands slipped under the curves of your ass, lifting you off the countertop and massaging your flesh through the thin fabric of your shorts as he walked you to the bed before gently laying you across the mattress. He stood at the edge of the bed, his glistening chest rising and falling as he watched your mirrored breaths almost reverently. You beckoned him down to you and he kneeled in the space between your legs, ever so slowly lowering his head to press kisses along your stomach. Gradually moving upward, he paused at your sports bra, tucking his fingers into the elastic band. "Can I-"
"Please," you cut him off with a whine, desperate to feel the roughness of his beard against your sensitive skin. The fabric was up and over your head within seconds, his mouth working on one breast while his hand massaged the other before the soft thud could even alert you that your clothing had landed on the other side of the room. The feeling of his lips and teeth and tongue and beard was absolutely sinful, causing you to involuntarily arch up into him and gasp at the size of him.
"Now I see why you’re so casual with big guns," you mused with a grin, your comment causing him to pause in his ministrations and smirk up at you.
"You handle them pretty well yourself," he countered, thumb lazily brushing over your nipple.
"Yeah but," you pushed at his shoulders until he fell onto his back beside you, offering you leverage above him, "I like my knife," you flicked open the button of his pants, "because it offers," you pulled the zipper down, slipping your hand inside to stroke his cock, "close contact."
"Fuck," he hissed out between gritted teeth, the single syllable causing liquid heat to pool between your thighs. You slid back off the bed and tugged his pants and boxers down with you, sitting up on your knees to press kisses against his thighs. Leaning up on his elbows, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head. "You don’t have to-"
With a quick swipe of your tongue, you stole the words from his mouth. "Consider it a thank you," you muttered between kisses along his length before taking him fully in your mouth.
The strangled groan that left his lips was raw and guttural and quite possibly the most incredible sound you had ever heard. You wanted to hear it over and over again, so you hollowed your cheeks and took him even deeper until the tip of his cock was pressing against the back of your throat. He growled out your name as you eased back up, gentle and torturous, heaven and hell. You gradually worked your way up to a steady pace, one hand coming up to stroke the base of his cock, the other scratching lines into his thighs as he shivered under your touch. You could easily overpower a man twice your weight and a foot taller than your small stature, but nothing would ever make you feel as powerful as reducing this archetype of masculinity to putty in your hands.
You felt his fingers work their way into your hair, gently tugging you off of his cock. You sat back with a whine and he simply winked in response, moving to switch spots with you. He slid your shorts and panties off your legs before gently taking one foot in his hands to kiss your ankle, his beard deliciously scraping against your skin as he worked his way up your calf until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. You arched your hips upward, hoping to entice him to put his mouth where you so desperately needed his attention, but he placed one firm hand against your stomach, holding you down, taking his own sweet time working his way towards your core, your eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation.
"Y/N," he growled softly, deep voice bringing you out of your reverie. You picked your head up to find his gaze locked on yours, the sight of his lust blown pupils and reddened lips causing your breath to come out in sharp pants. "Eyes on me."
Your mouth fell open emitting a high pitched keen at the command seconds before his tongue slipped past your folds, forcing you to bite your lip to stay alert and obey him. "Fuck, Court," you moaned unabashedly, fisting your hand in his hair and trying to bring him impossibly closer.
"That’s my good girl," he praised softly as his fingers replaced his tongue and his lips moved to suck on your clit, the heady combination of his words and the way he was expertly working your body causing you to clench around him. The pads of his fingers gently massaged your walls as his tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves, your fingers sharply tugging at his short strands of hair in response to his assault of your senses. You called out his name in a whine as the familiar promise of ecstasy bloomed in your lower stomach, your legs beginning to shake with the pressure of trying to hold back your impending orgasm.
"Stop fighting it," he mumbled against your clit, the rumbling vibration of his voice sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. "You’re safe with me, you can let go." A single tear trickled out of the corner of your eye at the intensity of it all and the force of his words; you couldn’t remember the last time you had let your body relax, let your muscles unwind, let yourself simply feel.
You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, and Court allowed his thumb to take over for his mouth so he could kiss you freely. Maintaining a steady pace with his fingers as his thumb languidly circled your button, he brought his other hand up to grip your chin, swallowing down your moans as you scraped your nails along his back and finally gave yourself permission to let go.
Stars exploded behind your eyes and you pulled back to catch your breath as Court gradually slowed his movements, drawing out your orgasm. Cupping his cheeks between your hands, you pulled him down so you could trail your teeth up his throat and along his jaw, ending with a searing kiss. 
Letting your leg slide off his shoulder, you patted the space next to you to indicate he should lie down. The head of his cock brushed against your still sensitive pussy as he shifted his weight back and you whimpered at the contact. Unwilling to wait any longer, you straddled his lap and ground your hips down against his as soon as he was settled, his thick cock easily sliding through your slick folds. "Y/N," he gritted out, curling his fingers around your throat and squeezing ever so lightly causing your eyelids to flutter shut, "don’t tease."
You lifted your hips just enough to guide the head of his cock to your entrance, then lowered yourself inch by inch, allowing your body to adjust to his size. Your head fell back, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut at the exquisite stretch, just on the border between pain and pleasure. You rested your palms against Court’s pecs, grounding yourself in reality and feeling his hands come up to cover your own. He squeezed your hands gently and you opened your eyes to find his locked on yours, his cheeks flushed, lips parted letting out soft pants of air. Beautiful.
The blush decorating his cheeks darkened and he mumbled, “You think so?”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled in response, the vibration rumbling from his chest through his body to where you were intimately connected, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath at the sensation.
You leaned down to kiss each of his tattoos, then his burn marks, then his scars, and finally his lips as you lifted your hips before dropping back down, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he moaned.
His lips curved upward in a smile at your little power play which ended as soon as his fingers worked their way around your throat once more. He swallowed your high pitched whine as he won the battle for dominance, mapping out the sensitive areas of your mouth as he planted his feet on the bed and rocked his hips up against you. His grunts and your mewling blanketed the sound of skin slapping skin as you met him beat for beat, his heart steadily thrumming under your fingertips as you clawed at his chest.
His pace became almost brutal as he fucked up into you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. For once, you welcomed the bruises that you would no doubt wake up to tomorrow.
"Court," you panted, feeling him twitch inside you and sensing that he was close, "I want you to cum inside me."
"Y/N-" he began protesting, ever the gentleman despite the way he was absolutely ravaging your body.
"Please," your voice caught as his head brushed against your cervix, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Remind me that we’re still human, that we still have feelings," you begged, leaning down to mark his neck so that he, too, would have a reminder of you in the days to come.
Your teeth grazed against his pulse point, causing his hips to stutter and pushing him over the edge as he called out your name, his hand splaying across your belly so that his thumb could rub your clit and send you hurtling into oblivion right behind him.
You kept your hips moving as you kissed him again, neither of you wanting or willing to move.
He brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead, smiling at you as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck. "Was that enough feeling or do you need more? Cause we’ve got all night."
You snorted out a laugh against his skin, his fingers trailing along your spine and his warm chuckle like a blanket on a cold winter’s night.
Not one to back down from banter you countered, "Give me some more feeling and I’ll make a shirt- I survived sex with Sierra Six!"
"Smartass."
"I win," you hummed contentedly, running your nails along his beard as you pressed gentle kisses to his jaw.
Your phone buzzed nearby followed by a string of incessant notifications on his own device, effectively breaking your spell. With his lips against your forehead he mumbled sadly, "Duty calls."
You checked your new assignments and dressed in silence, the two of you slinging your go bags over your shoulders before walking to the door. He stopped with his fingers on the handle, catching you by surprise with one last sweet kiss. You let your thumb trace along his lips, committing them to memory before you both crossed the threshold of your sanctuary, returning to the real world.
After parting ways at the end of the hall, you abruptly turned on your heel and called out, "Court?"
He looked over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, eyebrow raised in question.
"What if I need my cavalry again?"
His eyes lit up and his mouth morphed into a familiar smirk. "I’ll find you."
"I could be halfway across the world tomorrow, how will you even know where to look?"
"Trust me, I’ll find you."
Satisfied with his response, you indulged in a smile. "Be careful out there, old timer."
He winked at you in return. "Make sure to watch your Six."
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whatsyourcolor · 9 months
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Psycho-Pass Providence - My thoughts
Hello everyone, yesterday @jediofbooksandsnacks and I went to watch Psycho-Pass Providence. We went to watch the dubbed version which got cancelled, so we ended up watching the subbed version.
Here are my thoughts about the movie:
(SPOILERS)
The Plot I had already watched the movie in Japan without understanding a lick of dialogue. Some things were inferred from what was happening, but dear lord, with an anime like Psycho-Pass, you really need subtitles if you want to understand what's happening.
There's a lot of plot, but below is the basic gist. In fact, there are things I still don't understand. I may have to rewatch it to fully grasp some things. Basic plot is the MOFA was fucking around abroad and they found out. It's this ministry that created the Peacebreakers who got out of control and turned against the ministry and against Japan. One of these guys has a device called a "Divider" which when implanted in someone's brain causes them to be possessed and easily manipulated. It's called a divider because it splits the animalistic from the rational in the human mind. The villain (Tomami, I think was his name?) utilizes religious frenzy (lots of interesting quotations from the Bible) and the divider to control other peacebreakers. His aim is to declare his own rudimentary Sibyl system in the Kuril Islands at the North of Japan. To fully succeed, he needs the Stroyanka papers, which --from what I understood-- outlines the weaknesses of the Sibyl system and apparently can end wars or make them worse. I guess they are some type of predictive device, like a war AI that can analyze circumstances and tell you what to do in order to win or destroy an enemy.
The Stroyanka papers are somewhere in Dejima, which is where they hold all refugees who have not passed an immigration exam. This is where Maiko and Kei live in Providence. The only person who can open them, supposedly, is Saiga Joji. So off go the SAD and parts of Division 1 (Akane, Gino and Sugo) with Saiga to retrieve the papers.
The Call I really loved the dialogue between Kogami and Saiga when they're alone and begin talking about the case and quoting the Bible. Religion and Gods seem to be the theme of Providence, which is apt, since Providence is such a biblical word.
Kogami tells Saiga that him being a hermit reminds him of St. John and then reproaches him a little about working with the MWPSB. I love that Saiga tells him he is working with Tsunemori Akane. I simply adore how much Saiga dotes on Akane and how much she's definitely his favorite from all his students (take that, Kogami and Frederica).
Saiga warns Kogami about being nothing more than a killing machine. He tells him that it's up to him to be more than that and tells him that Akane is not a saint or a buddha and that he should apologize while he got the chance.
So Kogami makes the call and is unable to apologize. The next day Saiga takes a quick look at Akane and tells Kogami something along the lines of: "So you couldn't do it, huh?" to which Kogami replies "I don't know what you mean." Kogami comes off not only as a coward but as a stubborn mule who pretends not to know what Saiga is referring to. Maybe he doesn't like Saiga prying in their relationship. But I do think Saiga knows (I mean, he's Saiga) that their bond is important to the two of them.
Here's the vid of the call:
youtube
Kogami: "I've killed hundreds of men, walked seven countries by foot, raised a little girl for a month, starved in the wilderness, survived millions of explosions, but somehow telling this cute woman to forgive me for all the shit I have caused is the most difficult thing I have had to do."
The SAD Sucks The minister of foreign affairs and Frederica know that the papers are not in Dejima, but they go on this mission to use Saiga as bait to bring out all the Peacebreakers. Once they are there and Saiga opens the box only to find a cracked mirror, Frederica lets them know the truth and promises to protect Saiga's life. I love Kogami telling her: "So you would lie to the professor?" Frederica makes a face of contrition like "I'm soooorry guysss." But I like that Kogami calls her out. It makes me think their relationship is closer than that of boss and rabid killing dog.
Well, that doesn't go as planned. Apparently, the strategy of MOFA and Arata Shindo is to leak intelligence to follow the steps of the Peacebreakers and I guess predict their next move? Either way, it was a messy mission that ends up with Saiga dying, Akane broken down, and a lot of dead SAD men. Akane complains to Frederica and Kogami says that blaming Frederica won't fix anything (like man, let my girl rant because your team lied to her and got her father figure killed).
There's a scene with Kogami and Akane in an elevator where she's crying and angry. She blames herself for bringing Saiga out there to die. Kogami tells her that anger is fine, but that now is not the moment. That they need to complete the mission and then she can cry. She agrees, wipes her tears and follows him.
Akane's First Date This is a little bit of a joke, but Arata Shindo tells Akane to come with him to Kei and Maiko's wedding. I swear to god this is probably the closest thing Akane has had to a date. So yeah, Akane's first date is with Arata's dad and he ends up killing himself after giving a speech, so I guess... horrible first date? Lol.
On a serious note, he probably invites her because he knows he's going to kill himself. Chief Kasei gave him a gun, thanked him for his service, told him to put two and two together while waggling her eyebrows implying "time to take yourself out."
Kogami and Akane's Boring "Platonic" Relationship Many things happen, but at the end Akane gets shot twice by Tomami, then they end up debating why the law is important. On the crucial moment when he's about to kill her, Kogami shoots him down and says that he agrees with the dude he just killed. The law is not necessary and that basically, humans suck and are horrible. He tells her: "But I believe in you, who's trying to do the right thing."
So Akane recovers and Kogami goes to jail. She tells the Sibyl system that she'll take Arata Shindo's place as a politician and in her exit ceremony shoots Chief Kasei in front of everyone. She's sent to jail and Kogami comes out. Then, finally, once she's done what she had to do, Akane can fully cry.
I was telling Jedi that it bothers me how emotionless Kogami is throughout this whole thing. In the PP Movie their encounter was so intense, from them fighting, to not being able to sleep because there were too many questions, too many things to be said. Akane had grown and learned from him. He observes her, he's curious about her, he wonders what she thinks about him. It bothers him that she compares him to Makishima and is about to open up when she tells him that he would never try to control anyone's heart. If you are expecting frank moments like that in Providence, you won't get them. But for some reason, when you have dreamed so much of these two together, finally seeing them in the same place is exciting and I can't deny I left the theater a little high on shinkane. Kogami looks absolutely hot and Akane looks beautiful in many scenes.
Gino is Hot This one is obvious, but it needs to be said: Gino is hot. Passionate, sensitive, loyal team player. He saves Sugo, he saves Frederica, he consoles Akane, he thanks Mika when she gives him an obscene dominator. He yells at Kogami. He forgives Kogami. He wants to see Kogami regret what he did like Akane does. He gets a little bit further than Akane in that aspect.
I think at some point they try to play off Kogami and Frederica, and Ginoza and Frederica. Maybe they're showing that they would both work well with her. In our perverted fandom's mind I'm sure we're all thinking these professional agents would probably sleep with each other no feelings involved.
Frederica Has the Hots for Her Boss This is my own view, but the few times Frederica shows emotion is when it comes to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. She really appreciates him. At some point he's kidnapped and tortured by Tomami. When they rescue him (or rather, when Akira brings him to them), she's more concerned with his health than with Akira's statement which she assigns to Kogami. When the minister gets "possessed" and breaks down, she's locked in an elevator or a room, banging her fists against the door helplessly. I can't recall if she cries. But she wasn't crying when Saiga died, lol.
Final Verdict I think Psycho-Pass Providence was a good movie. Definitely better than Season 3 and First Inspector. This is a piece of media that I can respect. It's not great, it's not fantastic. It's more of the same in many aspects, it doesn't advance some things, but at least it doesn't feel cartoonish and stupid at points. Seems like the writers are definitely sticking to their strategy of showing explosions, fights and larger and less practical guns instead of writing an emotional buildup to the dramatic beats. The dominator has always been cool. They overdo these new dominators, making them look ridiculous and impractical.
However, Akane shooting Chief Kasei to get back at the system, exposing the contradictions of Sybil and forcing the public to wonder why her hue is clear when she shot someone in front of everyone, is pretty badass. She's willing to pay the price for what she did and goes to jail. Kogami promises that he'll do anything he can to get her out of there. Mister, where was all this resolve when you had the time and space to talk to her? He just doesn't learn. Ugh.
Either way, we know why Akane did what she did, but the interesting thing is that in the world of Season 3 nothing much has changed. Did Akane go to jail for three years for nothing? If there's a new season, I hope that she has at least inspired other people to question the system. Who knows. The writers seem stuck on their ambiguity in regards to everything.
4/5
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gloriousburden · 4 months
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though im also critical of it, ragnarok is one of my favs especially cus it endeared me with brodinson interactions (shoutout elevator scene) but after that, i didnt like future loki portrayals. it somewhat flipped loki's aspirations, although i liked how he really seemed a god of mischief i wished for more digging into that. if i said "country boys make do" and did what what i could, then i look at loki betraying thor once more as his warped way of saying "we've come to deeper understanding of e/o more and idk how to be your brother but i want to, this is all i know." (i imagine his ass is that type in fights "IDC! LEAVE! *wants them to stay* i feel frigga was the only person who saw that in him growing up and was there).
coulson did say to him "you lack conviction"; loki's always kind of struggling with himself to find his genuine purpose whether w/ being a king or a brother.
after that though i didnt care for loki they just took his popularized character traits and made him shout them out every second "hehe thats just what loki does!" and things i wanted delved into weren't addressed, or when they were it was poorly. i only seen season 1 but its loki content i just distance from
personally, i liked loki's personality shining in ragnarok. but like this time tom hiddleston said "loki should be an entertaining character but also that there should be a shred of truth" thats how i feel. about all future loki. i think they saw the numbers that loki did in ragnarok, and then on fucked up portraying him, and his depth
hi i sincerely apologize for seeing this so late 💔
personally, during my initial mcu watch, i did actually kind of enjoy ragnarok. although i did realize it’s issues such as pretty much everyone’s characterization (but especially loki’s), the way odin’s death was… Not as serious as it should’ve been, the way everything was too Haha funny joke, korg, the racist thor/bruce joke (which i will actually make a post about eventually), etc…
i did think it was a fun movie. it wasn’t until i rewatched it for a second time, after rewatching the thor movies/avengers 2012 that i realized.. yeah, this isn’t really that good and the earlier movies featuring thor, loki, or asgardians in general really were better.
personally, i prefer the humorous side of loki’s personality more in the dark world over the one in ragnarok. he was being funny and joking around, but it didn’t feel forced. it still felt like loki. in ragnarok, to me at least, it felt very forced and off for loki’s character. in the dark world, they didn’t necessarily have to belittle loki’s character and make him the laughing stock of the movie to make him funny. in ragnarok, they did.
and of course we see that continue a thousand times worse in the s*ries.
you are so right about the popularized character traits point. it’s like when people gossip about something, and as the word gets out to more people, it loses context and only leaves the very basic details of the gossip in the first place. that’s what they did with loki, pretty much. but that a thousand times over if this analogy even makes sense.
honestly do not even bother watching season 2 if you already know about the ending. i actually do think it was a little better than the first season. it was a little more interesting as well. but loki’s characterization was still HORRIFIC. there’s this interrogation type scene with one of the newer characters, this guy who works at the tva, and i guess they tried to make loki seem as though he’s still mischievous and working on his own accord instead of a goody two-shoes, pushover or whatever. idk man. whatever it was, it didn’t work.
and also they put this scene where he’s basically crying over mobius and various other tva workers to sylvie saying that he misses his friends (the friends in question being mobius and the most random tva workers ever) ??? 😭😭😭 i really do not believe that his ass was that devastated over these random ass characters who did not care about him…
basically, his personality was still more that of a silly little english man (not in a good way, trust me.) who works in a cubicle rather than a literal god/prince who speaks very eloquently and in old english. (taking this as an opportunity to say that i miss the old english/shakespeare in the park-esque way he and thor used to speak 😔 it was so fun.)
anyway this is very all over the place and i’m probably missing a few things but thank you so much for the ask!!! it was interesting to read.
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